502 South Main Street, Gretna VA

Church #160 was such a blessing to attend online. The First Baptist Church of Gretna made such a special impression on me, and it was exactly what my heart needed to hear in this season. I am still not prepared to step back into church physically just yet as I continue to mourn the recent loss of my mother, so being able to join online in a way that still felt welcoming meant more to me than I can fully put into words.

One of the things I appreciated most was how this church truly invites guests into the online service. I loved that they showed the congregation in worship. Especially when you are not quite ready to walk back through sanctuary doors yourself. It was a kindness to my spirit.

It was so evident that this is a loving and friendly group of people who truly desire to honor, follow, and serve Jesus Christ in all things. Before the sermon, a beautiful prayer was spoken, and it settled my heart. Then Dr. Jim Hewitt delivered a powerful prayer and a powerful sermon rooted in Luke 24:13-35, the road to Emmaus. And I will say, this passage feels like one that has been replaying in my life lately. Over and over again. As if the Holy Spirit keeps bringing me back to it because there is something there my heart needs to keep learning.

In this text, the disciples are walking. Not running. Walking.

And that detail stood out to me so much, especially because Pastor used Forrest Gump as an example, talking about running. I thought that was such a strong contrast. In the passage, we do not find disciples sprinting with confidence or rushing ahead with excitement. We find them walking, carrying grief, confusion, disappointment, fear, and shattered expectations.

And if I am honest, that is where I have been, too.

The disciples were walking with each other, full of heartache, trying to make sense of what had happened. They had hoped. They had believed. And now everything felt broken. They were moving, yes, but they were moving under the weight of sorrow.

That hit me so hard today.

Because a walk can be healing. A walk can be good for the mind. A different setting can be good for the soul. Sometimes movement helps us process pain. But I also know this, sometimes we keep moving because we do not want to stop long enough to feel what is really happening inside us.

And that is where this sermon met me today.

Because I have been running and running and staying busy, trying not to sit still long enough for the grief to fully catch me. I think sometimes when your heart is overwhelmed, you convince yourself that if you just keep moving, you can outrun the pain. If you stay productive enough, focused enough, useful enough, and distracted enough, maybe sorrow will not get the final say in the room.

But today, I had to stop and let it all in.

Today I went through photos of my sweet mother. I had not been able to bring my heart to do that until today. I was not ready. And when I finally did, the memories and the grief were overwhelming. It all came flooding in at once. My spirit feels broken. There is no pretty way to say that. It just does. But even in that, I know God is holding me. Always.

That is one of the reasons this passage means so much to me right now. Because the disciples on the road to Emmaus were walking with sorrow so heavy that they did not even recognize Jesus when He came near.

And hopelessness can do that, can’t it?

Despair has a way of closing our eyes. Grief has a way of narrowing our vision. Pain has a way of making everything feel dim. Everything seemed so hopeless to them that they did not even realize they had been talking to Jesus the whole time.

How often do we do the same? How often are we so crushed by disappointment that we miss His presence? How often are we so slow of heart that we cannot recognize Jesus walking beside us?

Are we being slow of heart? And I do not ask that from a place of condemnation. I ask it from a place of humility. Because I know what it is to be slow of heart. I know what it is to love Jesus and still struggle to see Him clearly through tears. I know what it is to believe in Him and still feel swallowed up by grief. I know what it is to walk with Him and still ask questions I do not have answers to.

So today I found myself asking…

Am I missing Jesus in this grief?
Am I remembering that Christ is still with me, even here?

Luke 24 reminds us that Jesus does not abandon us when we are confused. He does not walk away when we are grieving. He does not leave us to figure it all out alone. He comes near. He listens. He asks questions. He walks with us.

What tenderness there is in that.

Jesus could have rebuked them from a distance. Instead, He walked with them. Jesus could have left them in their confusion. Instead, He came near in it. Jesus could have demanded immediate clarity. Instead, He patiently revealed Himself.

I am learning that grief is not just sadness. Grief is disorientation. Grief is exhaustion. Grief is looking at familiar things and feeling like they have changed forever. Grief is knowing Jesus is Lord and still feeling like your heart is moving slower than your theology. And yet Christ still comes near.

That is the hope. The disciples were not strong or discerning. They were not spiritually sharp in that moment. The hope is that Jesus came to them anyway.

And that is the word I needed most today.

I was also so moved by the reminder that God will not forget the love we show. We do not serve for applause. We do not love for reward. We do not show grace and humility because it earns us something. We do it because God first loved us, and because when you have really encountered the love of Christ, it changes the way you live. We are called to serve with love, with grace, and with humility.

And in my opinion, that matters now more than ever. The world does not need louder religion. It needs truer love.

That is what this sermon brought out in me today.

As I mourn my mother, I am learning that grief is not something to conquer quickly. I think sometimes we are tempted to run because we are afraid that if we stop, the sorrow will swallow us whole. But maybe healing begins when we stop running long enough to recognize that Jesus has been beside us the entire time.

I thank The First Baptist Church of Gretna for such a powerful sermon today. Thank you for making space for online guests in such a meaningful way.

And as I continue this journey, still grieving, still healing, still learning how to stop running from sorrow and let God meet me in it, I am grateful that the Holy Spirit knows exactly what message to place before me at exactly the right time.

I cannot wait to see where the Holy Spirit leads next.

If your heart is heavy, keep walking. If your spirit feels broken, keep walking. If grief has dimmed your vision, keep walking. The road will not be easy, but Jesus is on it. And you will never walk alone.

Love you all,

Annie Stewart Lambert