Insurance Examination, Lynchburg, Virginia

Church #183 was wayyyy different this weekend. Once again, no pews. No choir. There were study materials. There were practice questions. There were hours and hours and HOURS of reviewing information until I was pretty sure my brain had reached maximum capacity.

And then there was a testing room.

This weekend was spent studying, preparing, and taking my Virginia Life, Health and Annuities exam, and let me tell y’all something right now, that test is NO JOKE.

I spent so many hours studying with my daughter, going over information, working through scenarios, trying to remember what applied where, and praying.

And…

I PASSED.

THANK YOU, JESUS!!!!!!

And somewhere in all of this studying, testing, exhaustion, sacrifice, and relief, God preached a sermon straight back to me. Preparation is part of the calling. We love talking about calling when it sounds exciting. We love talking about purpose when somebody is standing on a stage telling us God has something amazing planned for our lives. But we do not talk nearly enough about what happens between the calling and the walking in it.

Sometimes there is a whole lot of studying in between. Sometimes there are long nights. Sometimes there are sacrifices nobody sees. Sometimes there are tests. Sometimes there are moments when you stare at something wondering if your brain has room for one more piece of information. Sometimes obedience looks incredibly ordinary. And sometimes faith looks like studying one more chapter when you would much rather close the book and go to sleep.

Colossians 3:23 tells us, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.”

We often apply it to the work we are already doing, but I think it applies to how we prepare for the work God has given us too.

If I am going to serve people during some of the most important, difficult, emotional, and sometimes heartbreaking days of their lives, then I want to know what I am doing. I do not want to know just enough. I want to understand the things that affect the families sitting across from me. I want to be able to explain things clearly when someone’s mind is already overwhelmed by grief. I want to become as knowledgeable as I possibly can so that when somebody trusts me to help their family, I can honor that trust.

That is why this exam mattered to me.

Yes, I am a Family Service Counselor, and I absolutely love helping families. But since stepping into this role, something has grown inside of me that goes beyond simply doing my job. I want to become better equipped to serve.

I have already become a certified death doula and a grief coach specialist, pursuing those on my own time and with my own resources because I believe the people God places in front of me deserve my very best. My next goals include becoming certified as a cremation specialist and working toward licensure in funeral directing.

Not because I need more letters behind my name. And certainly not because I think a title makes somebody important. I want the knowledge because people matter.

That IS the SERMON.

When somebody is standing in front of me on one of the worst days of their life, I want everything I have learned, every hour I have studied, every experience I have gained, every prayer I have prayed, and every ounce of compassion God has placed inside me to come together and help me serve that person well.

Because excellence can be ministry too. Preparation can be ministry. Education can be ministry. Discipline can be ministry. Sacrifice can be ministry. Humility can be ministry. And yes, even sitting down and taking a state exam can become church when the reason behind it is, “God, prepare me to better serve the people You place in front of me.”

Proverbs 22:29 asks, “Do you see someone skilled in their work?” and goes on to describe the opportunities that skill can bring. That verse reminds me that there is nothing unspiritual about becoming excellent at what God has placed in your hands. Faith does not mean we sit around waiting for God to do everything while we refuse to prepare.

Noah still had to build the ark. David still learned how to use the sling. Joseph had to learn how to administer resources before he was placed in a position to help preserve lives during famine. The disciples had to walk with Jesus, listen, learn, fail, ask questions, be corrected, and grow before they carried the Gospel into the world.

Preparation matters. And sometimes the preparation feels nothing like the promise. Somebody needs to hear that!!!!! Sometimes God gives you a glimpse of where He is taking you, and then instead of immediately placing you there, He puts you in a season where you have to learn. And stretch. And study. And wait. And work. And trust.

We want the promised land, but we do not want the wilderness. We want David’s crown, but we forget about the field where he learned to fight lions and bears. We want Daniel’s testimony about the lions’ den, but we forget about the faithfulness that came before the lions. We want the Red Sea to part, but nobody wants to be the one standing at the edge of the water with Pharaoh’s army coming from behind. We want the mountain to move, but Jesus said faith the size of a mustard seed would be enough, which means there are going to be moments when what we are facing looks enormously bigger than what we feel we have.

And I know something about those moments…

I have walked through some furnaces of my own. I have stood in front of situations where I could not see a road forward. I have faced mountains that looked much larger than my faith. I have had nights when worry felt loud enough to sound like lions roaring around me.

And I have discovered something through every single one of them…

God was already there.

THAT is the God I am trusting now. The same God!

The God of the furnace. The God of the Red Sea. The God of the mustard seed. The God who closes lions’ mouths. The God who has carried me through grief. The God who has held my family together when life felt like it was pulling us apart. The God who has given me strength on days when I had absolutely no idea where another ounce of strength was going to come from.

THAT GOD.

And if He was faithful there, why would I decide He is going to abandon me here?

Life has been more than hard lately. There have been very long days and even longer nights. There has not been nearly enough sleep. There have been responsibilities stacked on responsibilities, prayers I am still waiting to see answered, and worries I have had to lay at Jesus’ feet over and over again.

There have been moments when I have wondered how all of this is going to work. How will God provide? How will He make a way? How will my family get through this season? How will I continue doing work I genuinely love? How will all these pieces eventually fit together? And I still do not have every answer. But I have hope.

I do not need to know exactly how the sea will part. I need to walk toward the water when God tells me to move. I do not need to know how I am getting out of the furnace. I need to remember Who is standing in it with me. I do not need to know how every lion will be silenced. I need to know Who has authority over the den. And I certainly do not need to know every detail of where this career will eventually take me. I just need to keep saying yes to the next thing God places in front of me.

That is obedience. And obedience does not always look glamorous.

Sometimes obedience looks like opening the book. Sometimes obedience looks like sacrificing your evening. Sometimes obedience looks like asking for help. Sometimes obedience looks like admitting you do not know something and being humble enough to learn. Sometimes obedience looks like sitting beside your daughter studying when both of you would rather be doing almost anything else. Sometimes obedience looks like walking into a testing room praying, “Jesus, I did my part. Now help me remember it.”

And sometimes obedience gets to walk out saying,

I PASSED. Thank You, Jesus.

But passing the exam is not the finish line. It is another beginning. I have more to learn. More families to serve. More mistakes that will probably teach me things I could never learn from a textbook. More opportunities to become better at this calling God has placed on my heart. Knowledge may help me answer a family’s questions, but Jesus is who taught me how to sit beside somebody whose heart is breaking and love them there. That cannot be replaced by a certification or license.

So Church #183 happened somewhere between the study materials, the late nights, my daughter’s help, the testing room, the prayers, the exhaustion, and that beautiful little word telling me I passed.

And I walked away with a sermon I desperately needed myself, keep preparing for what you have been praying for.

And somehow, after 183 churches and more unexpected sanctuaries than I ever could have imagined when this journey began, Jesus is still teaching me.

So in this moment, I am just grateful.

Grateful for my daughter and every hour she spent helping me study. Grateful for the opportunity to learn. Grateful that I passed. Grateful for the families God has already allowed me to serve. Grateful for the families I have not even met yet.

And grateful that even in one of the hardest seasons of my life, hope is still here.

I do not know exactly where all of this is leading. I do not know what next week holds. But I know God is in it with me. I know that every bit of knowledge I gain is another tool I can place back into His hands.

I don’t know where the Holy Spirit will lead next week, but I know God is good, His plans are good, and wherever He sends me next, I will keep showing up with an open heart, willing hands, and enough faith to take the next step.

Love you all so much,

Annie Stewart Lambert