219 E Washington Avenue, Vinton VA

Today, church number 151 didn’t happen in a pew once again. I tuned into the livestream from Vinton Baptist Church, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the gift of online worship when you need to stay home. There are seasons when God calls you into a sanctuary… and seasons when He calls you to sit still and listen right where you are.

And today, He met me here.

A beautiful prelude from Wanda Melchers opened the service, gentle, reverent, refreshing. It settled my heart. On the screen behind the choir were the words: Love. Follow. Build.

And I thought, yes Lord… that’s it. That’s the whole journey.

I also enjoyed learning about their story. In the early 1890s, under W.J. Goggin’s leadership, eighteen faithful people organized what would become this church. Eighteen. They called Rev. W.W. Hamilton as their first pastor. They met in vacant stores and lodge halls until a simple frame building was erected in 1894.Vacant stores. Lodge halls. Small beginnings.

Doesn’t that sound like the Kingdom?

From there, pastor after pastor, generation after generation, they built, not just buildings, but faith. Sanctuaries too small. Temporary structures seating 600. A new sanctuary in 1922. Another in 1962 seating 875, sometimes over 1,000. Ministries buildings. Education wings. Properties paid in full. Sister churches supported. Nearly 2,000 members now.

But what struck me most wasn’t the numbers. It was the faithfulness.

From eighteen to thousands.
From borrowed spaces to a full block.
From scarcity to abundance.

And isn’t that the rhythm of God?

The choir sang with such joy. You could hear it. That singing that lets you know it only comes from people who believe what they’re singing. And the piano solo of How Great Is Thy Faithfulness… I have heard that hymn many times, but today it felt personal. Almost like the Lord whispering, “Annie, I have been faithful in every season.”

Then Rev. Dr. Travis Russell preached from 1 Kings 17:8–16, Elijah and the widow.

And I needed that Word.

He spoke about spiritual rhythm. You could call it discipline, but rhythm feels more alive he noted. There is a rhythm to walking with God. A rhythm to listening. A rhythm to generosity. A rhythm to trust.

When we are walking, talking, loving with God, we know the rhythm. And when we get out of it, we feel it. We know what we need to return to.

In the passage, a famine has struck the land. Scarcity. Hunger. A widow gathering sticks. Preparing her final meal. Watching her son starve.

Can you imagine the weight of that?
The fear of looking into your child’s eyes and knowing you cannot provide?
The ache. The helplessness.

And while many of us sit comfortably reading this story, nearly three million children still die each year from hunger and malnutrition.

Elijah asks her for water. She goes without hesitation. Then he asks for bread. And she says what any mother would say:

“This is all we have. We are preparing to eat it… and die.”

We need to feel that.

And Elijah responds: “Do not be afraid… but first make a small cake for me.”

First.

That word catches in my throat.

Because that is the spiritual rhythm of generosity. Not giving from overflow. Not giving when it feels safe. Giving first.

Not because we know we will have enough,
but because we trust God who does.

This was not prosperity preaching. This was so raw and real. God did not promise luxury. He promised provision. The jar of flour did not run dry. The jug of oil did not empty. Not once. Not for many days.

Enough.

That’s the miracle.

It instantly reminded me of the boy with the loaves and fishes, as the Pastor mentioned. He didn’t give part of his basket. He gave all of it. His willingness became the conduit for multiplication. His trust became the doorway for abundance.

The widow’s obedience did the same.

Do we trust God enough?

Do we trust Him enough to give when we don’t know what tomorrow holds?
Do we trust Him enough with our resources, not just our words?
Do we trust Him enough to live aligned, time, talent, treasure… surrendered?

The Bible never tells us to live foolishly or above our means. But it does teach that giving is an act of trust. It is a declaration that our security is not in what we hold, but in God, who holds us.

God does not need our money. He wants our hearts.

Generosity is one of the most spiritual rhythms because it forces us to rely on Him beyond ourselves. It exposes what we truly believe.

The widow chose trust.
She chose obedience in fear.
And she experienced the sustaining goodness of God, not just once, but over and over again.

That message ministered to me today.

Because life has seasons of famine. Seasons where you look at what’s in your hands and think, this is not enough.

But God’s rhythm says,
Trust Me. Give. Follow. Build.

From eighteen members in vacant stores to thousands in a thriving church.

From one widow’s last meal to unending provision.

From a living room livestream to a heart stirred again.

Church #151 may have been online. But the Spirit was present. The Word was alive. The rhythm was restored.

Thank you, Vinton Baptist Church, for inviting me into your story. For loving, following, and building faithfully. For preaching the truth. For reminding me what it means to trust.

And now I wait, expectant, to see where the Holy Spirit leads next.

Because whether in a pew, a sanctuary, or a living room,

We are the church.

And the rhythm continues.

Love you all,

Annie