Lynchburg, VA, My City, My Loving Community

Today marks church number 150 on this journey God called me to, visiting churches across our city, listening, learning, worshiping, and watching how God moves in different spaces.

But today… there is no sanctuary.
No pews.
No worship band warming up.
No bulletin in my hand.

Today, church is happening in my home as we care for a sick family member.

And honestly…
It feels exactly like church.

Because the Bible has always reminded us that the church was never meant to be confined to a building.

In Acts 2:46, believers met from house to house, breaking bread together, caring for one another, sharing life.

Church looked like kitchens, living rooms, hospital bedsides, dusty roads, prison cells, and borrowed upper rooms.

Jesus never said, “They will know you are My disciples by your church attendance.”
He said in John 13:35:
“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Love.
That’s the evidence.
That’s the church.

I had imagined this milestone differently.
Maybe a packed sanctuary. A celebration. A sense of arrival.

Instead, it’s quiet. Tender. Beautiful in a different way.

But I keep sensing God whisper:

“I didn’t call you to a place. I called you to a people.”

Sometimes church is a sermon. Sometimes it’s a song.
And sometimes it’s sitting beside someone who is hurting, bringing love, offering comfort, holding a hand when words don’t come.

Romans 12:15 says:
“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

That’s church. That’s ministry.
That’s love lived out.

This church-visiting journey hasn’t been easy or smooth or without difficulty. There have been beautiful moments, yes, but also heartbreak, exhaustion, questions, and seasons where I wondered if I could keep going.

Yet through every high and low, one message keeps rising to the surface,

Love one another.

Not when it’s convenient. Not when it’s easy. Not only when people deserve it.

Just… love.

1 John 4:7 reminds us:
“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.”

If it comes from Him, then it isn’t limited by circumstances, buildings, or comfort zones.

Caring for someone who is sick doesn’t always feel spiritual. It can feel tiring, messy, and emotional.

But Jesus said it very clearly in Matthew 25:40:

“Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

When we care for the vulnerable… when we show up for the hurting… when we choose compassion over convenience…

We are ministering directly to Christ.

Suddenly, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

God keeps teaching me this…

Church isn’t where you sit.
It’s how you love.

It’s forgiveness when it’s hard.
It’s showing up when you’re tired.
It’s choosing kindness when you’ve been hurt.
It’s staying soft in a world that tries to make you hard.

And sometimes, it’s simply being present.

Today my heart is full, not because everything is perfect, but because God is faithful.

Faithful in the sanctuaries.
Faithful in the hospital rooms.
Faithful in the quiet homes.
Faithful in the messy middle of life.

If this journey has taught me anything, it’s this,

Where God leads you, that’s church.
Who God places in front of you, that’s ministry.
How you love, that’s your testimony.

So wherever you are today,

If you’re in a pew, love someone.
If you’re at home caring for someone, you are the church.
If you’re walking through hardship, God is still present there.

And if your heart keeps hearing that gentle nudge to love one another…

Listen.

Because that voice?
That’s Jesus.

And loving like Him will always, always build the church!

Love you all,

Annie Stewart Lambert