"Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world.
All things break. And all things can be mended.
Not with time, as they say, but with intention." — L.R. Knost
There are times in history when it becomes painfully clear that we are standing at the edge of something. One story is dying. Another is being born. We find ourselves here, somewhere in between.
The age we are leaving has been defined by extraction, domination, and the pursuit of control. It taught us to measure success by how much we could consume, how high we could climb, how efficiently we could exploit what seemed to be endless resources. It gave us grand narratives of conquest and triumph, wrapped in myths of innocence and progress. For a long time, we believed those stories—because they promised safety, superiority, and clarity in a chaotic world.
But now, the consequences of that age are everywhere. The planet is warming. Trust is eroding. Entire communities are being displaced, devoured by systems designed to take rather than tend. Rather than gently letting go, this old story, best illustrated by the MAGA movement in the US, is fighting to survive. It’s loud. Defensive. Cruel. It feels like life, but it’s really just momentum. A system running on habit and fear.
It’s easy to confuse that kind of noise for power. But what we’re actually witnessing, I believe, is the death rattle of a story that has run its course.
Just beneath that crumbling surface, something else is beginning to stir.
It’s quieter. Harder to name. It doesn’t yet dominate headlines or campaign platforms. But it’s present—in small communities rooted in care, in movements guided by relationship rather than rivalry, in rituals that honor the Earth as teacher, not resource. It is a way of being that does not put humans at the center, but sees us as part of an intricate, sacred web. It values reciprocity, humility, and interconnection. It listens more than it speaks. It asks not, What can I take? but How can I be in right relationship?
To live in this in-between moment is to develop a new kind of spiritual skill. We have to become people who can hold grief in one hand and hope in the other. Who can recognize what must be laid down—not in bitterness, but in truth. And who can also sense what is just beginning to take root, and guard it with tenderness.
That means naming the illusions we’ve outgrown.
It means giving up the idea that we can live with clean hands—that we can be ethical without being entangled, or good without being implicated.
It means letting go of our need to be the saviors of every story, the protagonists of every plotline.
It means examining the ways we’ve cloaked control in spiritual language and asking whether we’re still willing to listen to a God who doesn’t always speak in certainty.
And then, it means paying attention to what might be carried differently.
What if prayer is not about asking for outcomes, but learning how to be still long enough to hear the pulse of the world?
What if salvation isn’t an escape, but a deeper descent into solidarity—into the complexity, the pain, the beauty of shared life?
What if the question is not just What do I believe? but What does the way I live say about what I believe?
These aren’t questions we can answer overnight. But they are the ones that guide us through this passage. We won’t always know which story we’re in on a given day. Sometimes we’ll feel torn between them. Other times we’ll feel like we don’t belong to either. That’s okay. The task isn’t to resolve the tension. It’s to remain present within it. With compassion. With discernment. With a willingness to be shaped by something truer than what we’ve known before.
The old world is ending.
The new world is not yet fully here.
But the way we live now will determine what grows next.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
What are you beginning to see with clearer eyes—about yourself, your community, or the systems around you?
Are there beliefs, habits, or roles you’re being invited to release, even if they once felt essential?
Where are you catching glimpses of a different way—something gentler, more honest, more whole?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer for Living Between Stories
God of the threshold,
We are standing in the doorway
between what has been and what could be.
The old ways are still clinging to power,
and the new ones are barely a whisper.
Teach us to walk with humility,
to listen with tenderness,
and to live in a way that makes space
for the future to root in us.
May we be brave enough to let go.
May we be gentle enough to begin again.
Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Listening to the In-Between
This week, carve out some intentional time for stillness—not to find answers, but to listen for what is shifting beneath the surface. Go for a walk in a place that feels a bit untamed—a trail, a city park, a neglected garden, even a stretch of sidewalk that shows signs of wear. As you walk, resist the urge to organize your thoughts or plan your day. Instead, simply observe. What is falling apart? What is sprouting or holding on in quiet resilience? Let the land—or what’s left of it—mirror the state of your inner world.
When you return, take a few minutes to reflect. Ask yourself:
What in me feels like it’s reaching the end of a story?
What am I clinging to that no longer makes me whole?
What new awareness or desire is beginning to take root—even if it still feels small, unformed, or uncertain?
Next, light a candle. Write a word or phrase that names what you’re ready to release, and another that gestures toward what you hope to grow. Fold the paper and place it under the candle’s light—not to fix or finalize anything, but to acknowledge that this is sacred work. The work of endings. The work of beginnings.
As you close your time, speak this blessing aloud:
May I release with reverence.
May I welcome with wonder.
May I walk in humility,
between the dying and the becoming.
Return to the candle later this week. Let it remind you that even when you feel suspended between what was and what could be, there is still light. There is still warmth. And there is still a story being written in you, even now.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
NEW!!! On June 4, 2025, from 7-8pm ET, join Brian McLaren, Matthew Fox, and me for an exploration of “In the Midst of Doom: Facing Our Moment and Finding Our Way” inspired by Brian’s latest book. In an age of climate crisis, political unraveling, and societal collapse, many are asking: What now? What’s worth doing when the systems around us are failing? How do we find meaning beyond hope as we’ve known it? Join us and we will explore together. Register here.
June 4, 2025, 12pm ET - Jeff Chu has written a new book on a topic close to my heart: Soil! The title is “Good Soil: The Education of an Accidental Farmhand.” I am so pleased to be interviewing him. Together, we’ll explore what it means to cultivate “good soil” in our lives, our communities, and our spiritual practices. I hope you will register. Your registration includes a copy of his new book.
July 20-25, 2025 - The Art of Wilding: A 5-Day Expedition in Wyoming for Women Leaders. Click here to learn more.
August 11, 2025, 2pm ET - Dr. Andrew Root and I will be hosting a 6 part series on Spirituality in the Secular Age based on his research. The dates are August 11, 18, September 8, 15, and October 6, 13. Mark your calendars! More on this soon.
September 4, 4:30pm ET - I will be collaborating with the Anderson Forum for Progressive Theology to host a conversation with Thomas Jay Oord on Open and Relational theology. It’s a FREE event. Register here.
October 15-18, 2025 - Converging 2025: Sing Truth Conference (all musicians invited!) at Northwest Christian Church in Columbus, OH. Register here!
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
I am stunned by the depth and clarity of your perception. And from the depth of heart I say thank you. I will stand in that doorway, with all the gentleness and compassion I can, letting go of the past, my past, our past, and nurturing the seedlings of what is to come.
Sadhana Brent, Napa CA
Thank you Cameron, lately I have felt like life is overwhelming, and beating me down. I know our country must and is changing. My prayer is we find the right direction and find a new place for everyone not just the power people.