On this, the last day of my 37th year, I’m gathering together a list of all of the albums that I’ve listened to over and over again in the last year. I’ve listened to lots of music over the last year, but this is what has stuck with me and climbed into my heart, marking important lessons, changes, and seasons. Everyone one of these albums is tied to such a feeling of gratitude.

In no particular order, my 37th year playlist:

When We All Fall Asleep – Billie Eilish

The Weatherman – Gregory Alan Isakov

Words I Never Said – Ella Vos

Lemonade – Beyonce

Phase – Jack Garratt

Shake the Spirit – Elle King

Delta – Mumford & Sons

Cuz I Love You – Lizzo

Vide Noir – Lord Huron

Lover – Taylor Swift

Awaken, My Love – Childish Gambino

A Moment Apart – Odesza

Everything is Love – The Carters

Pink Moon – Nick Drake

III – The Lumineers

And I’m never not listening to:

The Head and the Heart

and everything by Jay-Z

It’s been raining. Everything is turning green and my lilacs and apple trees are right on the verge of blooming. I’m one cup of coffee into my weekend morning ritual of drinking coffee by the open window, wrapped up in the first quilt I ever made, listening to the birds chirp whenever the rain breaks, focusing on the things for which I am so very grateful.

It’s Easter. The Super Bowl of Christianity. Churches all over have hustled hard to bump up attendance so they can share crackers and grape juice with the lost souls of our communities. Yesterday was Passover and I miss that ritual. The rich history of wine and herbs and unleavened bread broken with loved ones. Why does it seem like modern-day Christianity cheapens everything that was once holy?

I feel such a complicated mixture of emotions when I think of Christianity—the tradition from which I once drew my identity. When I consider this religion, I think of guilt and foreboding, fear so strong that it prompts people to disown their loved ones, friendships where worthiness comes from bible study attendance, a bible that’s used as a weapon, and the Christian Republican Party who elected, and loves, Donald J. Trump. (Are you angry? I’m angry.)

While this all but ensures I’ll never attend church again, I also know church has nothing to do with the Divine. So I try hard to see past this religion that has caused so, so much damage. I think about this: How I’ve had to lose my life to save it. The many times I have I risen from the ashes. If there is a hell that we’re rescued from, it’s the one here on earth that we make for ourselves and each other. And whatever or whoever God is, he is the one who is always, always with us.

Maybe today, for me, is about remembering the resiliency of the human spirit—our ability to rise from the dead again and again. Isn’t that such a miracle? And maybe it should be a celebration of this one wild and beautiful life—this magnificent gift we’ve all been given and the only chance we know we’re guaranteed. So let’s take this one chance and squeeze every last drop out of it.

Happy Easter