475 Westfield Road, Charlottesville, VA

What a blessing it was to join Center Church for their online service this week as Church #162 on this journey. The service began with beautiful worship music and the reminder that everything that has breath should praise the Lord, and that alone ministered to my heart.

Sometimes you do not come into a service with strength. Sometimes you come in carrying sorrow, questions, and heaviness. And yet, the call remains the same, praise the Lord.

I am here another week, still not ready to step back into the sanctuary just yet.

And this week, that ache felt especially sharp. It is Mother’s Day weekend, and I find myself carrying a new kind of sadness with the recent loss of my own mother.

There are some griefs that do not fully make themselves known all at once. They unfold. They deepen. They show up in waves, in ordinary moments, in holidays, in songs, in memories, in the sudden realization that this is the first time you are walking through something without the person you love.

This first Mother’s Day without my mother is harder than words can say.
I miss her.

And while I know the butterfly release ceremony at Virginia Memorial Park will be beautiful, I also know it will be difficult for my heart.

Beauty and sorrow can sit side by side like that. Grief has taught me that. Something can be meaningful and painful at the same time. Something can be lovely and still break you open a little more.

I have never experienced this kind of grief before, not like this, and I am learning that there are no good sentences for a broken heart.

But I do know this for certain…

Jesus is holding my broken heart.

That truth has become less of a pretty phrase to me and more of a lifeline. Because when grief introduces you to a pain you have never known before, you find out very quickly what you truly believe. And what I believe is that Christ is still near to the brokenhearted. He is still faithful. He is still gentle. He is still present. He is still God, even here.

The sermon was exactly what I desperately needed to hear. The title was “Not By Chance” and it focused on the story of Ruth and the providence of God. Pastor Jose Concepcion, who leads the college ministry, shared a message that met me right in the middle of loss, transition, and all the places where life has not gone according to plan.

And that question was at the center of it…

What do we do when things do not go according to plan?

What do we do in hardship?
What do we do in loss?
What do we do in transition?
What do we do when life takes a turn we never would have chosen?

That question has lived close to me lately.

Because so much in life can change in what feels like a moment. One phone call. One diagnosis. One death. One season ending. One door closing. One grief arriving. And suddenly, the life you knew is standing in a different light.

I think that is one of the reasons the book of Ruth is often used in our sermons. It is not just a story about romance and redemption the way people sometimes reduce it to. It is a story of grief, displacement, widowhood, hard decisions, faithfulness, and the mysterious providence of God working in places that looked empty.

That word providence matters so much.

Pastor spoke about how God’s providence means that He is intentionally involved in our lives. I love that. Intentionally involved. Participating. Working. Leading. Sustaining. Providing. Ordering things in ways we often do not recognize until much later.

And I think many of us tend to fall into one of two unhealthy ways of thinking when it comes to God’s providence. Either we act like God is not really in control, so we scramble and strain and try to force everything to go our way, or we act like God is so in control that our choices do not matter at all. But I do not believe either of those views reflects the full beauty of biblical truth.

In my opinion, the story of Ruth shows us something richer and more honest than that.

Yes, God is sovereign.
Yes, God is in control.
Yes, God is intentionally involved.
And yes, our choices still matter.

Because sharing the gospel matters.
Sharing our testimony matters.
Sharing love matters.
Obedience matters.
Kindness matters.
Faithfulness matters.
The steps we take matter.

Ruth chose to stay with Naomi. Ruth chose faithfulness. Ruth chose to glean in the fields.

Boaz chose generosity. Naomi chose to guide Ruth. None of those choices were meaningless.

God’s providence did not erase human responsibility. It worked through it.

Ruth did not know when she stepped into that field that she was stepping into a providential setup by God. To her, it may have looked ordinary. It may have felt like survival. It may have felt like simply doing what she had to do to make it through another day.

And isn’t that so often how God works?

He works in the ordinary.
He works in the unnoticed.
He works in the hard places.
He works in the fields we never would have chosen.

The book of Ruth begins with famine, loss, and emptiness. Naomi loses her husband. Then her sons. Ruth loses her husband. They are left vulnerable, grieving, and heartbroken. And yet God is already at work in the middle of the ruin. That is the kind of biblical providence that steadies me. Hardship will never outrun the hand of God.

That is what I needed to hear.

Because when you are grieving, you can be tempted to think everything is shattered beyond use. You can be tempted to believe the story has been overtaken by loss. But Ruth reminds us that even when life feels bitter, even when our arms feel empty, even when the future feels unclear, God is still writing. God is still providing. God is still participating in the details.

And one thing that stood out to me so strongly is this: God’s providence often provides for the undeserving.

That is the gospel, isn’t it?

Ruth was a Moabite. An outsider. Naomi was bitter and broken. Boaz was simply being faithful where God placed him. None of them were earning grace. Grace by its very nature cannot be earned. God’s providence keeps showing up for people who do not deserve such goodness, because that is who God is. He is merciful. He is generous. He is kind. He is the God who makes room for outsiders, the God who covers the vulnerable, the God who writes redemption into places of loss.

And as I write this, I need that kind of God.

Not a God who only moves when I have it all together.
Not a God who only shows up when I am strong.
Not a God who only provides when I deserve it.

I need the God of Ruth.
The God who works in famine.
The God who works in grief.
The God who works in hidden fields.
The God who works when life does not go according to plan.

That is one of my deepest convictions. I do not believe God wastes anything. I do not believe sorrow gets to write the ending. I do not believe heartbreak means God has stepped away.

I believe He is intentionally involved even when I cannot see the whole picture. I believe He participates in the story even when all I can feel is loss. I believe He is still providing, still guiding, still holding, still redeeming.

I needed to be reminded today that my life is not unraveling at random. My grief is not unseen. My sorrow is not beyond God’s reach.

This first Mother’s Day without my mom feels impossible in places. It feels cruel in places. It feels quiet in places. It feels loud in places. It feels like my heart is learning a language it never wanted to know. But even here, God is still God.

Even here, it is not by chance.

Not by chance that Ruth ended up in that field.
Not by chance that Boaz noticed her.
Not by chance that redemption came from devastation.
Not by chance that Jesus came through that family line.
And not by chance that this message found me exactly when I needed it most.

I miss my mom’s hugs, her nearness, her being here. There is no replacing a mother’s love. But my prayer is that for anyone else wrestling with heartbreak, loss, or grief, Jesus would lift you up. I pray He would meet you right this moment. I pray He would remind you that your story is not abandoned. I pray He would show you, even in little ways, that His providence is still at work.

Thank you to Center Church and to Pastor Jose Concepcion for such a timely and powerful message. Thank you for the worship, for the Word, and for the reminder that even when life does not go according to plan, God is still intentionally involved. He is still working. He is still providing. He is still writing redemption into the places we thought were only loss.

And as always, I cannot wait to see where the Holy Spirit leads next.

But right now, the thought closest to my heart is this,

When life breaks your plans, it does not break God’s providence.
When grief empties your hands, it does not empty God’s goodness.
When the road turns where you never wanted it to turn, God is still on it.

Love you all,

Annie Stewart Lambert