What do you think?
Rate this book
Don't Forget We're Here Forever: A New Generation's Search for Religion
Bloomsbury presents Don't Forget We're Here Forever, written and read by Lamorna Ash.
*A 2025 HIGHLIGHT Telegraph, Financial Times, New Statesman , Irish Times , Elle and GQ *
'Spellbinding. An incredible exploration of how young people are navigating the complex world we find ourselves in today' Katy Hessel, author of The Story of Art without Men
'A book of rare quality. Ash is a writer of exceptional grace and energy' Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury
Why are young people in Britain today turning to faith in our age of uncertainty?
Lamorna Ash was raised with about as much Christianity as most people in Britain these a basic knowledge of hymns and prayers received via a Church of England primary school education; occasional brushes with religious services. But once she started writing about her two friends’ unexpected conversions, she began encountering a recurring in an age of disconnection and apathy, a new generation was discovering religion for itself.
In Don’t Forget We’re Here Forever, Ash embarks on a journey across Britain to meet those wrestling with Christianity today. Through interviews and her own deeply personal journey with religion, and from Evangelical youth festivals to Quaker meetings, a silent Jesuit retreat along the Welsh coastline to a monastic community in the Inner Hebrides, she investigates what drives young people in the twenty-first century to embrace Christianity. Written with lyrical beauty and sensitivity, this is a reminder of our universal need for nourishment of the soul.
*A 2025 HIGHLIGHT Telegraph, Financial Times, New Statesman , Irish Times , Elle and GQ *
'Spellbinding. An incredible exploration of how young people are navigating the complex world we find ourselves in today' Katy Hessel, author of The Story of Art without Men
'A book of rare quality. Ash is a writer of exceptional grace and energy' Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury
Why are young people in Britain today turning to faith in our age of uncertainty?
Lamorna Ash was raised with about as much Christianity as most people in Britain these a basic knowledge of hymns and prayers received via a Church of England primary school education; occasional brushes with religious services. But once she started writing about her two friends’ unexpected conversions, she began encountering a recurring in an age of disconnection and apathy, a new generation was discovering religion for itself.
In Don’t Forget We’re Here Forever, Ash embarks on a journey across Britain to meet those wrestling with Christianity today. Through interviews and her own deeply personal journey with religion, and from Evangelical youth festivals to Quaker meetings, a silent Jesuit retreat along the Welsh coastline to a monastic community in the Inner Hebrides, she investigates what drives young people in the twenty-first century to embrace Christianity. Written with lyrical beauty and sensitivity, this is a reminder of our universal need for nourishment of the soul.
Audible Audio
Published May 8, 2025
99 people are currently reading
1691 people want to read
About the author
Lamorna Ash
3 books70 followersLamorna Ash is the author of Dark, Salt, Clear, a BBC Radio 4 'Book of the Week', and Somerset Maugham Prize winner in 2021, and Don’t Forget We’re Here Forever, 2025. She is a freelance journalist writing for the Times Literary Supplement, Financial Times, Vogue and the Guardian, as well as a columnist at the New Statesman.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 93 reviews
July 10, 2025
(3.5) I was intrigued to read a young and (initially) secular person’s thoughts about the state of Christianity in Britain and hoped to gain some insight into why some Millennials / Gen Z are being drawn to religion, especially in its more traditional forms. Ash is certainly not someone you’d expect to become a Church of England congregant: a 30-year-old queer woman in a polyamorous relationship. I’d skimmed her previous book, a nature/travel memoir about life in Cornwall, when it was longlisted for the Wainwright Prize. In both works, she demonstrates her journalistic bona fides, with a talent for setting scenes and crafting pen portraits.
Here she gives what feels like a fair assessment of modern Christianity at its best and worst. Starting with the latter… she goes deep with Evangelicalism through a Christianity Explored course (similar to the more famous Alpha course) and a visit to YWAM (Youth with a Mission). She rightly diagnoses these as being complicit with the damaging forces of individualism and capitalism, relying on manipulation and propaganda, and not truly caring about people’s unique lives and doubts.
Once you’re inside the Christian bubble, it’s hard to see it clearly, or acknowledge the validity of what’s outside it. So it’s worthwhile to have Ash’s perspective, especially on how alien the obsession with sexual morality was to her – of YWAM she writes, “I had never talked about sex so much with strangers before. This vast, mysterious religion, and none of us could stop going on about our own bodies.” The strictness and insistence on impossible standards of personal behaviour are basically inviting hypocrisy, as with the Soul Survivor sexual grooming scandal, which Ash mentions. I also had to laugh at this encounter, so hokey and so true to how blithely born-again Christians claim to be a mouthpiece for the divine:
Monasticism and mysticism are, to Ash, better expressions of Christian tradition. She makes a pilgrimage to the abbey on Iona and visits Walsingham Catholic shrine and St Beuno’s Jesuit retreat centre. She also repeatedly attends Quaker meetings, drawn to the principles of silence, uncertainty, and valuing others. Her discussions of the Bible and history are generally at a good level, though I would have been happy with having more of the footnote material included in the text for a deeper analysis. (The only point where I thought her investigation was lacking was when she’s querying how the virgin birth came to be such an important doctrine. Here, translation issues are important to bear in mind: “maiden” / “young woman” didn’t necessarily mean the same thing as “virgin” in its original context.)
The profiles of young religious converts are well crafted, but might be better incorporated into the chapters instead of mostly separated off into their own section. Ash achieves more sexual variety (e.g. interviewing a trans man who’s embraced Catholicism) than ethnic. Within the confines of what she set out to do, this is an engaging and important piece of work. However, I did keep wondering if it would be more natural to either a) recount her own spiritual journey, with some asides about fellow seekers she met along the way; or b) feature young people following any religion in Britain, which would give more of a holistic and diverse picture. (Godstruck by Kelsey Osgood did this well, with seven young women’s conversion stories covering Orthodox Judaism and Islam as well as various forms of Christianity including Mormonism.)
Fortunately, encounters with Evangelicalism didn’t turn Ash off completely. By the book’s end, she’s regularly attending a liberal Anglican church in London and has decided that Christianity helps her mental health and gives her a sense of heritage and community. It allows her to contemplate the personal (her mother’s dementia) and collective (climate breakdown) challenges of the future. “I know you don’t need religion to keep awake, or to be a good person – often the opposite is true. But I think I might need it for that. I think I might need the ritual of Sunday worship to discover the courage to become the version of myself I would like to be,” she writes. The blessing, as she quoted early on from Harold Bloom, is that of “more life.”
It’s refreshing that she doesn’t use a personal conversion as an excuse for an absolutist outlook. She appreciates Christianity symbolically rather than literally and takes a pragmatic view: no, Julian, all shall not be well, but for as long as humanity lasts, religion will help us to stand firm and keep looking after each other. I would add that many other charitable ventures or secular community groups can do the same, but so long as a Christian church is doing practical good in the world, it can indeed be part of that solution.
The title is a Simpsons reference, but that doesn’t reflect a low/pop culture tone throughout. For instance, the book ends with a meditation on Sir Jacob Epstein’s Jacob and the Angel sculpture – a nice full-circle gesture given that Ash also opened with the story of Jacob. While this book isn’t comprehensive or learned enough to be anything like the final word on young people’s experience of Christianity, let alone religion in general (though “Religion” is the word used in the subtitle), in Britain, it offers a meaningful set of stories that reflect universal longings and widespread experiences. Whether you’re in the fold or on the fringe, I predict you’ll find it interesting.
[Note: The book has been very poorly served by the editing process. In the finished hardback I counted several dozen remaining errors that any proofreader should have caught, ranging from “Iron Bru” and “Alcoholic Anonymous” to missing prepositions and repeated words. It certainly wasn’t a good sign that “writingj” made it through onto page 1!]
Here she gives what feels like a fair assessment of modern Christianity at its best and worst. Starting with the latter… she goes deep with Evangelicalism through a Christianity Explored course (similar to the more famous Alpha course) and a visit to YWAM (Youth with a Mission). She rightly diagnoses these as being complicit with the damaging forces of individualism and capitalism, relying on manipulation and propaganda, and not truly caring about people’s unique lives and doubts.
Once you’re inside the Christian bubble, it’s hard to see it clearly, or acknowledge the validity of what’s outside it. So it’s worthwhile to have Ash’s perspective, especially on how alien the obsession with sexual morality was to her – of YWAM she writes, “I had never talked about sex so much with strangers before. This vast, mysterious religion, and none of us could stop going on about our own bodies.” The strictness and insistence on impossible standards of personal behaviour are basically inviting hypocrisy, as with the Soul Survivor sexual grooming scandal, which Ash mentions. I also had to laugh at this encounter, so hokey and so true to how blithely born-again Christians claim to be a mouthpiece for the divine:
“A teenager in tie-dye skipped over to where I stood rudderless before the stage. ‘I hope this is OK to say and not weird,’ she said, ‘but Jesus wants me to say something to you.’ ‘OK,’ I sighed. ‘He wants to say how brave you are to be here and he’s proud of you for reading the Bible and that he’s open to you.’ ‘Oh, thanks,’ I said. ‘Welcome,’ she said, and danced away”
Monasticism and mysticism are, to Ash, better expressions of Christian tradition. She makes a pilgrimage to the abbey on Iona and visits Walsingham Catholic shrine and St Beuno’s Jesuit retreat centre. She also repeatedly attends Quaker meetings, drawn to the principles of silence, uncertainty, and valuing others. Her discussions of the Bible and history are generally at a good level, though I would have been happy with having more of the footnote material included in the text for a deeper analysis. (The only point where I thought her investigation was lacking was when she’s querying how the virgin birth came to be such an important doctrine. Here, translation issues are important to bear in mind: “maiden” / “young woman” didn’t necessarily mean the same thing as “virgin” in its original context.)
The profiles of young religious converts are well crafted, but might be better incorporated into the chapters instead of mostly separated off into their own section. Ash achieves more sexual variety (e.g. interviewing a trans man who’s embraced Catholicism) than ethnic. Within the confines of what she set out to do, this is an engaging and important piece of work. However, I did keep wondering if it would be more natural to either a) recount her own spiritual journey, with some asides about fellow seekers she met along the way; or b) feature young people following any religion in Britain, which would give more of a holistic and diverse picture. (Godstruck by Kelsey Osgood did this well, with seven young women’s conversion stories covering Orthodox Judaism and Islam as well as various forms of Christianity including Mormonism.)
Fortunately, encounters with Evangelicalism didn’t turn Ash off completely. By the book’s end, she’s regularly attending a liberal Anglican church in London and has decided that Christianity helps her mental health and gives her a sense of heritage and community. It allows her to contemplate the personal (her mother’s dementia) and collective (climate breakdown) challenges of the future. “I know you don’t need religion to keep awake, or to be a good person – often the opposite is true. But I think I might need it for that. I think I might need the ritual of Sunday worship to discover the courage to become the version of myself I would like to be,” she writes. The blessing, as she quoted early on from Harold Bloom, is that of “more life.”
It’s refreshing that she doesn’t use a personal conversion as an excuse for an absolutist outlook. She appreciates Christianity symbolically rather than literally and takes a pragmatic view: no, Julian, all shall not be well, but for as long as humanity lasts, religion will help us to stand firm and keep looking after each other. I would add that many other charitable ventures or secular community groups can do the same, but so long as a Christian church is doing practical good in the world, it can indeed be part of that solution.
The title is a Simpsons reference, but that doesn’t reflect a low/pop culture tone throughout. For instance, the book ends with a meditation on Sir Jacob Epstein’s Jacob and the Angel sculpture – a nice full-circle gesture given that Ash also opened with the story of Jacob. While this book isn’t comprehensive or learned enough to be anything like the final word on young people’s experience of Christianity, let alone religion in general (though “Religion” is the word used in the subtitle), in Britain, it offers a meaningful set of stories that reflect universal longings and widespread experiences. Whether you’re in the fold or on the fringe, I predict you’ll find it interesting.
[Note: The book has been very poorly served by the editing process. In the finished hardback I counted several dozen remaining errors that any proofreader should have caught, ranging from “Iron Bru” and “Alcoholic Anonymous” to missing prepositions and repeated words. It certainly wasn’t a good sign that “writingj” made it through onto page 1!]
April 15, 2025
This is a truly remarkable book. In a lyrical and expertly crafted narrative that is both personal and universal, Lamorna Ash explores the reignited interest in Christianity in Britain today, taking testimony from people of all denominations and expressions of faith, while navigating her own personal journey with religion, belief and all the various forms those things can take.
This is a story of faith for everyone, regardless of whether you’re religious, religi-curious, atheist or just don’t know what you believe; it’s a story of faith in humanity, and of finding hope and community in an increasingly fractured and divisive world.
Thank you to Bloomsbury for the advance reading copy.
This is a story of faith for everyone, regardless of whether you’re religious, religi-curious, atheist or just don’t know what you believe; it’s a story of faith in humanity, and of finding hope and community in an increasingly fractured and divisive world.
Thank you to Bloomsbury for the advance reading copy.
May 8, 2025
I came to this book with a certain amount of interest but also of detachment. Interest because I am - and have been - a Christian for 42 years. Detachment because, despite being still utterly compelled by the life and times and the afterlife of Jesus the Christ, I am - and have been - deconstructing for a number of years.
Lamorna’s writing drew me in immediately. From the opening paragraphs about Jacob wrestling with the angel, through her exploration of various different outworkings of Christianity, through to her gently arrived at conclusion (and I won’t spoil it), I felt as though I was truly accompanying her on her explorations.
This book might bring you to (Christian) faith, it might turn you away from it. It might confirm what you already think, or it may raise new questions and stirrings within you. But whatever else it does, it cannot fail to make you look, and to think, and to ponder, the mystery of faith.
Lamorna’s writing drew me in immediately. From the opening paragraphs about Jacob wrestling with the angel, through her exploration of various different outworkings of Christianity, through to her gently arrived at conclusion (and I won’t spoil it), I felt as though I was truly accompanying her on her explorations.
This book might bring you to (Christian) faith, it might turn you away from it. It might confirm what you already think, or it may raise new questions and stirrings within you. But whatever else it does, it cannot fail to make you look, and to think, and to ponder, the mystery of faith.
June 7, 2025
Lamorna Ash has written a beautiful book trying to understand why many of her friends and contemporaries have become Christians. I don’t think that Ash really understands the faith of the people that she interviews, especially those who are evangelical, and I’m not sure that at the end of the book she is quite as changed as she thinks she is.
August 2, 2025
A work that's part a work of anthropology, part memoir, exploring expressions of Christianity in the UK - especially amongst younger adults. As other reviewers have said, Ash doesn't always demonstrate a grasp of others' beliefs, perhaps especially those of evangelicals. But I think this remains an important perspective to imagine, not least as unchurched people - many of whom will hold similar assumptions as Ash - have contact with our churches.
May 30, 2025
finished this while eating a plate of salty cucumbers and crying some tears. all should be well. like ash on her journey, I wasn’t really sure why this book meant so much to me, just that I kept coming back to it. this honest grappling (wrestling, like Jacob) with todays currents of faith and religion and why a new generation might be turning back was simply beautiful.
with fear of evangelizing (literally), I can’t help myself tell everyone to read it because I think it’s exactly the kind of book we need right now. maybe to build a little empathy with other ways of seeing, and to understand a bit more how even rigid and unyielding belief systems can serve a purpose for so many. and maybe, that there is room for all of us.
with fear of evangelizing (literally), I can’t help myself tell everyone to read it because I think it’s exactly the kind of book we need right now. maybe to build a little empathy with other ways of seeing, and to understand a bit more how even rigid and unyielding belief systems can serve a purpose for so many. and maybe, that there is room for all of us.
June 19, 2025
3.5^4 stars. This isn’t really a satisfying study of why young people might be turning to religion (nor does it convince me that this is actually the case — the few stats quoted are not that robust). However it is a very beautifully written memoir-ish collection of stories/interviews with people of all kinds of Christian denominations. I knew so little about Christianity before reading this and although I don’t think I’ve come away with a huge amount of historical/theological knowledge, it’s definitely opened my mind to belief systems that I am too easily dismissive of. I felt like above all else, this book is an argument for humility, for listening to contradictory opinions, taking others’ belief seriously and being willing to change — refreshing !!
July 18, 2025
This is a brilliantly written and profoundly thought provoking book. On the one hand it finds something of the complexity and variety of faith in this country right now, particularly for younger people, and on the other it is an account of genuine transformation from curiosity to belief written in a profoundly moving way, which I think it would be impossible not to raise questions in one's mind. Beyond its narrative of conversion, what makes it so moving is its profound kindness, even when writing about people she fundamentally disagreed with there was a genuine attempt at real understanding.
July 1, 2025
First off, if Lamorna is reading this: I have a massive crush on you.
Secondly, this book is so unique. A non-evangelical cultural anthropology of Christianity from a person who started out with a curiosity and a repulsion towards faith. Her journey into belief weaves herself into the questions we all ask, and as a gen-z writer, is uniquely speaking to the shifting tides of our generation's search for meaning. Aside from her speaking into my niche, I wouldn't be surprised is Lamorna doesn't become one of the most important non-fiction writers of our generation, as she is able to investigate subcultures with full sincerity, deep curiosity and generosity, and brings us along using the most dynamic, poetic, and vivid language.
This is now on my required readings list. I'm certainly going to revisit in a month or two.
Secondly, this book is so unique. A non-evangelical cultural anthropology of Christianity from a person who started out with a curiosity and a repulsion towards faith. Her journey into belief weaves herself into the questions we all ask, and as a gen-z writer, is uniquely speaking to the shifting tides of our generation's search for meaning. Aside from her speaking into my niche, I wouldn't be surprised is Lamorna doesn't become one of the most important non-fiction writers of our generation, as she is able to investigate subcultures with full sincerity, deep curiosity and generosity, and brings us along using the most dynamic, poetic, and vivid language.
This is now on my required readings list. I'm certainly going to revisit in a month or two.
May 19, 2025
A young journalist raised with very little exposure to religion hears about two friends of hers, both of whom have converted to Christianity and are training to be priests. Curious, she spends over a year investigating their stories, and this sets her on the trail of the broader issue: why are Gen Zers converting to Christianity? By the end of the book (a year or two later), she herself is definitely on the road to faith, although hers is a questioning, ambiguous, lots-of-grey-areas sort of faith—not at all the sort of thing you’d find on an Alpha Course or ‘Christianity Explored’.
The book divides roughly into three parts. In the first, she investigates people who have converted to conservative forms of Christianity, whether Catholic, Orthodox or Evangelical. In the second, more liberal/progressive converts move into the spotlight: the Quakers, the folks at the Iona Community and so on. In the final third, she investigates deconstructors and reconstructors—people who have left one form of faith and (in some cases) are moving into another.
I was moved by Lamorna Ash’s willingness to struggle with forms of faith she herself did not find naturally attractive. At the same time, learning to pray, being surprised by the narrative grittiness of the Bible, and finding a local church that offers both structure and the support of a community have obviously become precious gifts to her. In a day when we’re being told repeatedly that young people have lost interest in organised religion, Ash offers a more nuanced story. I found this a very hopeful book. Oh, and by the way, her writing style is gorgeous! Five stars out of five.
The book divides roughly into three parts. In the first, she investigates people who have converted to conservative forms of Christianity, whether Catholic, Orthodox or Evangelical. In the second, more liberal/progressive converts move into the spotlight: the Quakers, the folks at the Iona Community and so on. In the final third, she investigates deconstructors and reconstructors—people who have left one form of faith and (in some cases) are moving into another.
I was moved by Lamorna Ash’s willingness to struggle with forms of faith she herself did not find naturally attractive. At the same time, learning to pray, being surprised by the narrative grittiness of the Bible, and finding a local church that offers both structure and the support of a community have obviously become precious gifts to her. In a day when we’re being told repeatedly that young people have lost interest in organised religion, Ash offers a more nuanced story. I found this a very hopeful book. Oh, and by the way, her writing style is gorgeous! Five stars out of five.
September 5, 2025
A book about the faith journeys of young people in the UK. Lamorna Ash talks with evangelicals, Quakers, nuns, priests, liberal Christians, and conservatives. All the while, she explores her own faith, attending spiritual retreats, Quaker meetings, and Anglican services, and reflecting on what faith has meant in her life and in the lives of others.
This was a really beautiful, touching book. Lamorna does such a great job of putting into words everyone’s faith journey and the winding, personal paths young people take to God.
4.5
This was a really beautiful, touching book. Lamorna does such a great job of putting into words everyone’s faith journey and the winding, personal paths young people take to God.
4.5
July 20, 2025
Ganz große Leseempfehlung. Mir fehlen die passenden Worte für dieses sprachlich filigran-ausdrucksstarke, emotional-abholende, Lebensgeschichten-einblickgebende und nicht zuletzt tief persönliche Meisterwerk.
June 1, 2025
there’s so much I could say. Reading this book felt like having a friend come to stay and then really not wanting them to leave.
I found it challenging yet deeply healing and thought-provoking. Lamorna Ash is a beautiful writer and has a beautiful mind.
I love the suggestion that ran through the book that everything in this world is meaningfully connected. The church should not be about rules and exclusivity - there should be no ‘us’ and ‘them’ when it comes to faith- but rather everything and everyone is connected and part of each other.
This world is a painful place but connection, prayer and being a part of a deep love that we can call God, seeks to brings us closer and hold us in our sorrow.
I found it challenging yet deeply healing and thought-provoking. Lamorna Ash is a beautiful writer and has a beautiful mind.
I love the suggestion that ran through the book that everything in this world is meaningfully connected. The church should not be about rules and exclusivity - there should be no ‘us’ and ‘them’ when it comes to faith- but rather everything and everyone is connected and part of each other.
This world is a painful place but connection, prayer and being a part of a deep love that we can call God, seeks to brings us closer and hold us in our sorrow.
September 8, 2025
Honest and illuminating account of Lamorna’s journey through the various embodiments of the Christian faith across the UK.
Read
September 9, 2025Occasionally, I come across a book that I don't feel I can rate for one reason or another.
For this book, I will start with the positives. This was a well-written, well-narrated piece of work. The narrator spoke clearly and it was easy to understand. The author has a clear passion for the subject matter, which is evident in every part of the book.
However.
While there is the facade of open-mindedness, and in certain chapters this appears to be true, I cannot help but notice a few things.
Firstly, the author claims to have attempted a fully-rounded picture of Christianity, but I would argue that this is not quite true. Yes, there were a wide range of Christian and Christian-esque events and meetings the author attended (and to her credit, she was upfront from the beginning that she was just there as a writer), but at no point did I get the impression that she was challenged about her own sin. In fact, the topic of a sinful humanity in need of God's mercy seemed to be avoided entirely.
'For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God' - Romans 3:23 KJV
'For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.' - Romans 6:23 KJV
Aside from one or two individuals she mentioned, every person and institution she encountered appeared to be completely permissive of each and every life choice. Now, to get a full view of the various branches of Christianity, I think the author could have gone to a couple more churches in between the silent nuns and the liberal churches.
Additionally, the author claimed to recognise the sacred nature of taking communion, yet continued to take it anyway despite her lack of faith.
Belief in the general existence of a God does not equal Christian faith.
'Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.' - James 2:17 KJV
I say this not to be harsh, mean, or overly critical- as I said, I think the author seemed to be very honest and genuine in her approach to these different churches and meetings- however her conclusions drawn were incredibly disappointing.
How can somebody learn, in such depth and with such genuine passion, about the Saviour, His perfect life and loving sacrifice on the cross- and yet draw no conclusions about their own life? How can you learn about His sacrifice and not understand that part of true Christian faith is sacrifice? There is no understanding evident in this book that faith sparks change.
'Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.' - 2 Corinthians 5:17 KJV
Ultimately, the author of this book has a whole lot of well-crafted head knowledge (flawed and borderline-blasphemous in some parts, but let's not get into that), but the love of her life/sin (and she admits this) prevents her from translating any of that into heart knowledge and true saving faith in Christ.
'Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' - James 4:17 KJV
While I appreciated the insights this book provided, I am not sure I can recommend it.
For this book, I will start with the positives. This was a well-written, well-narrated piece of work. The narrator spoke clearly and it was easy to understand. The author has a clear passion for the subject matter, which is evident in every part of the book.
However.
While there is the facade of open-mindedness, and in certain chapters this appears to be true, I cannot help but notice a few things.
Firstly, the author claims to have attempted a fully-rounded picture of Christianity, but I would argue that this is not quite true. Yes, there were a wide range of Christian and Christian-esque events and meetings the author attended (and to her credit, she was upfront from the beginning that she was just there as a writer), but at no point did I get the impression that she was challenged about her own sin. In fact, the topic of a sinful humanity in need of God's mercy seemed to be avoided entirely.
'For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God' - Romans 3:23 KJV
'For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.' - Romans 6:23 KJV
Aside from one or two individuals she mentioned, every person and institution she encountered appeared to be completely permissive of each and every life choice. Now, to get a full view of the various branches of Christianity, I think the author could have gone to a couple more churches in between the silent nuns and the liberal churches.
Additionally, the author claimed to recognise the sacred nature of taking communion, yet continued to take it anyway despite her lack of faith.
Belief in the general existence of a God does not equal Christian faith.
'Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.' - James 2:17 KJV
I say this not to be harsh, mean, or overly critical- as I said, I think the author seemed to be very honest and genuine in her approach to these different churches and meetings- however her conclusions drawn were incredibly disappointing.
How can somebody learn, in such depth and with such genuine passion, about the Saviour, His perfect life and loving sacrifice on the cross- and yet draw no conclusions about their own life? How can you learn about His sacrifice and not understand that part of true Christian faith is sacrifice? There is no understanding evident in this book that faith sparks change.
'Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.' - 2 Corinthians 5:17 KJV
Ultimately, the author of this book has a whole lot of well-crafted head knowledge (flawed and borderline-blasphemous in some parts, but let's not get into that), but the love of her life/sin (and she admits this) prevents her from translating any of that into heart knowledge and true saving faith in Christ.
'Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin.' - James 4:17 KJV
While I appreciated the insights this book provided, I am not sure I can recommend it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 31, 2025
5/5
“I choose to hold my nerve. I choose to become a Christian with my scepticism about organised religion intact, the way it institutionalises hierarchical systems of power which are so easily and often corrupted, with my awareness of the fact it has never done enough to protect its congregations against such abuses. I believe I come closer to knowing something of God in my interactions with other people, the people I love, the strangers I meet. It’s not a thin place. It’s my church, in my city and I want to stay here, where heaven is right in reach. I tried to make that true by writing it down. I believe that the God of the religion which is my heritage might have come down to earth as a man 2000 years ago to walk alongside us and help us with our terrible pain because I can’t think of a more beautiful story for how God might behave. My belief is not founded on certainty, and I don’t want to persuade anyone else of it. My desire for a more certain faith doesn’t mean I’ll ever get there. But I’ll limn the waters anyway. I’ll try to sing in tune with my cracked voice. I’ll pray for my mother. I’ll pray for the world. I’ll call those prayers acceptance, and I’ll try to turn such acceptance into courage, into action.
I haven’t found any answers. I’ll go on looking.”
“I choose to hold my nerve. I choose to become a Christian with my scepticism about organised religion intact, the way it institutionalises hierarchical systems of power which are so easily and often corrupted, with my awareness of the fact it has never done enough to protect its congregations against such abuses. I believe I come closer to knowing something of God in my interactions with other people, the people I love, the strangers I meet. It’s not a thin place. It’s my church, in my city and I want to stay here, where heaven is right in reach. I tried to make that true by writing it down. I believe that the God of the religion which is my heritage might have come down to earth as a man 2000 years ago to walk alongside us and help us with our terrible pain because I can’t think of a more beautiful story for how God might behave. My belief is not founded on certainty, and I don’t want to persuade anyone else of it. My desire for a more certain faith doesn’t mean I’ll ever get there. But I’ll limn the waters anyway. I’ll try to sing in tune with my cracked voice. I’ll pray for my mother. I’ll pray for the world. I’ll call those prayers acceptance, and I’ll try to turn such acceptance into courage, into action.
I haven’t found any answers. I’ll go on looking.”
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 12, 2025
Extremely well written account of the British gen Z’s grappling with religion. How non-fiction should be written. Maybe I enjoyed it more as it aligned quite closely with my outlook on faith and religion.. and sympathised with the author’s visiting the Quaker’s for example. It’s an invitation to consider religion and faith, which often left me exhausted with thought - just like a good book should.
June 3, 2025
Listened to this book in two days straight! Was very relevant to me, an English writer my age exploring how young people are turning to religion. It was so good!
June 22, 2025
I liked the message of having faith but without the confines of picking a side, being indoctrinated to rules. it's important to have a sense of connection, community and faith in yourselr and others without having to abide by doctrime that is archaic and isolates those most vulnerable.
August 4, 2025
A honest and moving piece, one which feels like a more accurate image of how wrestling with faith and Being manifests today.
August 19, 2025
Beautifully written.
September 11, 2025
So incredibly moving and thought provoking, would recommend to anyone - religious or not
May 28, 2025
would have loved to have ridden shotgun in her rickety little car.
July 10, 2025
3.5 stars - loved the beginning and some really interesting topics. Learn lots about different types of christianity and very beautifully written. The end left me a bit flat
July 28, 2025
Reaaally enjoyed this book, beautifully written, but sticking to 4*
August 6, 2025
I agree with Lucinda - the musings on love in the middle were really beautiful / nice
Description of her friends wedding
Description of ‘mutual love is a leap’
Description of her friends wedding
Description of ‘mutual love is a leap’
August 3, 2025
really uplifting and powerfully touching
June 25, 2025
loved this beautiful, personal exploration of modern faith
July 18, 2025
So interesting, beautiful, extremely close to home. Felt so nice and new to read a book which encapsulates the hope and peace found in my own religion, coupled with the discomfort and anger of the questions I have about it too.
I've asked the same questions as the author and those in the book, but felt a new love for my faith finally seeing someone talk about it positively and really taking the time for it.
I've asked the same questions as the author and those in the book, but felt a new love for my faith finally seeing someone talk about it positively and really taking the time for it.
July 26, 2025
Lamorna Ash has written a deeply important and timely book—one that I believe every Christian, especially those in leadership, would do well to engage with. Don't Forget We’re Here Forever isn’t just a personal memoir; it’s a mirror held up to a generation, and to the Church.
At its heart, the book helps us understand the deep and often unspoken spiritual hunger among Gen-Z. Lamorna’s exploration of faith is not casual or flippant—it’s searching, sincere, and, at times, raw. If you want to understand why so many young adults are still drawn to the Christian faith, and yet often hesitant or even resistant to walking through the church doors, this book offers some vital clues.
One of the central tensions Lamorna unpacks—gracefully but firmly—is the difficulty queer people face in engaging with evangelical Christianity. Her own experience is presented not with bitterness, but with honesty. She doesn’t caricature or vilify, but she does name the hurt and confusion that can come from encountering a version of faith that, to her and many others, feels closed off and conditional. It's not just about disagreement; it's about the possibility of fully belonging.
This is also a book that gives valuable insight into how evangelical expressions of Christianity can be perceived from the outside—how they can feel, how they can land, especially to someone who wasn’t raised in those spaces.
If Lamorna’s voice is representative of her generation—and I think it is, in many ways—then some evangelical communities have serious generational issues to face. And in my view, part of that reckoning involves a greater openness to difference, especially on secondary matters. These are not just theological abstractions; they are lived realities for people seeking Christ.
Lamorna’s reflections also provoke a broader question: is what we call “evangelicalism” today actually a relatively recent, 20th-century phenomenon—an expression of Christianity whose cultural momentum has carried it through the early decades of the 21st century? And if so, how much longer can that inertia last before meaningful reformation is needed? Can it still speak meaningfully to people like Lamorna—people who are spiritually hungry, but not prepared to settle for—at times—shallow certainties, guitars, and strong personalities?
In contrast, her time with the Quakers, offered rich reflections on the power of silence and community. But I found it telling—and deeply important—that Lamorna ultimately found herself frustrated by the lack of clarity. Gen-Z isn’t satisfied with a vague spirituality or mindfulness in a community hall. They want depth. They want substance. They want to know what the Church believes—and why.
I was also struck by Lamorna’s respectful engagement with the Catholic tradition. As someone raised in Protestantism, it opened my eyes to aspects of that tradition I hadn’t fully appreciated. There’s something humbling and hopeful about a young seeker drawing from multiple wells—looking for truth, beauty, and grace wherever they can find it.
That said, I didn’t find the book quite as gripping as some of Lamorna’s podcast interviews around the launch, where her spoken voice and storytelling instincts seemed even more vivid. But perhaps that’s just me. Regardless, the book remains a thoughtful, moving, and necessary contribution to our current moment.
What I hope more than anything is that evangelical Christians—especially leaders—don’t dismiss Lamorna just because she’s gay. That would be a tragic loss. If reading this book makes you feel uncomfortable, then I’d gently suggest that Lamorna’s generation will likely feel equally uncomfortable in your church. That should give us pause.
So, thank you Lamorna—for your courage, your honesty, and for sharing your journey. Don't Forget We’re Here Forever is a challenging read, but a valuable one. It asks us not only to listen, but to reflect, and perhaps even to change.
At its heart, the book helps us understand the deep and often unspoken spiritual hunger among Gen-Z. Lamorna’s exploration of faith is not casual or flippant—it’s searching, sincere, and, at times, raw. If you want to understand why so many young adults are still drawn to the Christian faith, and yet often hesitant or even resistant to walking through the church doors, this book offers some vital clues.
One of the central tensions Lamorna unpacks—gracefully but firmly—is the difficulty queer people face in engaging with evangelical Christianity. Her own experience is presented not with bitterness, but with honesty. She doesn’t caricature or vilify, but she does name the hurt and confusion that can come from encountering a version of faith that, to her and many others, feels closed off and conditional. It's not just about disagreement; it's about the possibility of fully belonging.
This is also a book that gives valuable insight into how evangelical expressions of Christianity can be perceived from the outside—how they can feel, how they can land, especially to someone who wasn’t raised in those spaces.
If Lamorna’s voice is representative of her generation—and I think it is, in many ways—then some evangelical communities have serious generational issues to face. And in my view, part of that reckoning involves a greater openness to difference, especially on secondary matters. These are not just theological abstractions; they are lived realities for people seeking Christ.
Lamorna’s reflections also provoke a broader question: is what we call “evangelicalism” today actually a relatively recent, 20th-century phenomenon—an expression of Christianity whose cultural momentum has carried it through the early decades of the 21st century? And if so, how much longer can that inertia last before meaningful reformation is needed? Can it still speak meaningfully to people like Lamorna—people who are spiritually hungry, but not prepared to settle for—at times—shallow certainties, guitars, and strong personalities?
In contrast, her time with the Quakers, offered rich reflections on the power of silence and community. But I found it telling—and deeply important—that Lamorna ultimately found herself frustrated by the lack of clarity. Gen-Z isn’t satisfied with a vague spirituality or mindfulness in a community hall. They want depth. They want substance. They want to know what the Church believes—and why.
I was also struck by Lamorna’s respectful engagement with the Catholic tradition. As someone raised in Protestantism, it opened my eyes to aspects of that tradition I hadn’t fully appreciated. There’s something humbling and hopeful about a young seeker drawing from multiple wells—looking for truth, beauty, and grace wherever they can find it.
That said, I didn’t find the book quite as gripping as some of Lamorna’s podcast interviews around the launch, where her spoken voice and storytelling instincts seemed even more vivid. But perhaps that’s just me. Regardless, the book remains a thoughtful, moving, and necessary contribution to our current moment.
What I hope more than anything is that evangelical Christians—especially leaders—don’t dismiss Lamorna just because she’s gay. That would be a tragic loss. If reading this book makes you feel uncomfortable, then I’d gently suggest that Lamorna’s generation will likely feel equally uncomfortable in your church. That should give us pause.
So, thank you Lamorna—for your courage, your honesty, and for sharing your journey. Don't Forget We’re Here Forever is a challenging read, but a valuable one. It asks us not only to listen, but to reflect, and perhaps even to change.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 93 reviews