Camping Fails Again: Non-Rapture, the Sequel

Several months ago, an ancient, crusty dude named Harold Camping made headlines worldwide with his bold prediction that the world would end on May 21. I wrote not one, but two blogs about it while interning with Revelife that spring — and here I am again, writing about the same ancient, crusty dude five months later.

This time, for the last time.

(Assuming he doesn’t roll out yet another doomed prediction.)

In case you missed what happened after his failed May 21 call, Camping went radio silent for a couple days before resurfacing with an explanation: the judgment had apparently happened — but invisibly. A “spiritual” event. No fireworks. No vanishings. Just … missed it, I guess.

He then followed that up by saying the world would officially end on October 21.

For real this time.

Well … probably.

Yes — he actually used the word “probably.”

Well, it’s now October 22. And as best I can tell, the world’s still here. The 5 a.m. garbage truck is rumbling outside my window right on schedule. Christians are still here. Everyone else is still here. Their mamas too.

Who knows what the explanation will be this time — or if there will even be another prediction after going 0-for-2 this year and, well … 0-for-everything.

But honestly, I don’t want to pile on Camping more than the internet already has. (Though I will admit — some of those parody videos were gold.) After this, no more Camping cop-out jokes.

As a self-proclaimed restless wanderer, I often find myself quietly yearning for the end.

Not in a dark, hopeless way — but in a things-will-be-better-than-this kind of way. A heaven-leaning kind of way.

If I’m being honest, there was a small part of me that hoped that maybe — just maybe — this ancient, crusty dude had somehow cracked the code. That he’d stumbled upon some hidden equation, or that God had decided to whisper the timeline to him of all people.

Because if that were true, I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.

No more wondering about the future.
No more navigating uncertainty.
No more trying to figure it all out.

But it’s October 22.

And life goes on.

God isn’t taking cues from human calendars or predictions. He has His own timeline — one that isn’t ours to decode. But with each passing day, we are moving closer to whatever that day will be.

I still long for the end sometimes.

But I’m learning — slowly — to live in the middle. To stay present. To make something of today.

God was in my past.
He’ll be in every tomorrow.

But He’s also here — right now.

And I lose sight of that more often than I’d like to admit.

So if it takes a couple failed doomsday predictions to remind me to actually live the life in front of me…

Then I guess — strangely enough —

Hooray for ancient, crusty dudes.