There are seasons when words flow freely—and seasons when they don’t.

This is one of those seasons for me.

If you’ve noticed fewer blog posts or podcast episodes, I want to offer a simple and honest update about why. Not as an exhaustive explanation of everything happening in my life, but as a way of being transparent with this community I deeply value.

Since December, I’ve been engaged in counseling and therapy at The Refuge Center. This has been an important part of my ongoing healing journey as I continue to process past trauma and pursue greater wholeness. It is steady, intentional work that requires time, honesty, and emotional presence.

In February, I entered the editing phase of Jubilee’s book while also starting her nonprofit (more details to come). These are sacred responsibilities to me, and they deserve thoughtful attention as these efforts begin to lift off the ground.

In March, I stepped into a new Accounting Manager role with Rural Health Redesign Center. It has been a meaningful professional transition, but also one that requires focus and adjustment as I learn new rhythms and responsibilities. Around the same time, I began a two-month mental health evaluation as part of Vanderbilt’s VUMC Studyfinder program, which confirmed my ASD diagnosis earlier this month.

Alongside these transitions, my roles at The Gate Church and Messenger Fellowship have also shifted. Instead of focusing on admin and tech support, I’m beginning to move more into my wheelhouse—spiritual formation and education. This work has been deeply life-giving, though more inward-facing.

Most importantly, I’m doing my best to be fully present for my kids and support them as they finish their school semesters strong. That responsibility remains one of my highest priorities.

All of these pieces together have created a season in which I simply do not have the same capacity for consistent blogging and podcasting as before.

This is not a step away from this space, but rather a recognition of the season I am currently in.

I still believe in the value of storytelling, reflection, and honest conversation. I still care deeply about this community. And when the time and capacity return, I look forward to engaging more regularly again.

For now, I’m grateful for your patience, your understanding, and your continued presence here.

Thank you for walking with me.

— Cameron

Cover graphic creds: Center for Grief Counseling