“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”

– Proverbs 17:17 (ESV)

It was the kind of day that hits you out of nowhere. One phone call. One text. One gut punch.

My friend had just lost his job, and life was unraveling at full speed—bills stacking up, confidence draining fast, and the usual smile nowhere to be found. He didn’t need advice. He didn’t need a checklist. He didn’t even need a pep talk.

He just needed someone to be there.

So I showed up.
No script. No agenda. Just presence.
We didn’t talk much. We didn’t pray elaborate prayers. We didn’t crack open a theology book.

We just sat in the silence and let the weight of the moment breathe.

And here’s the thing… that was the ministry.

You Don’t Have to Fix the Problem to Be Part of the Miracle

We live in a world that values noise. Flash. Activity. If you’re not posting about it, recording it, or hashtagging it, did it even happen?

But the Kingdom of God operates on a different frequency. It runs on faithfulness. Quiet strength. Underrated obedience.

Presence is often the loudest way you’ll ever say “I love you.”

I’m not talking about dropping off a casserole and disappearing. I’m talking about digging in. Staying present in the chaos. Being a pillar—not a parachute.

Because real support?
It doesn’t vanish when the storm hits.
It shows up with an umbrella… and a chair.

It stands quietly beside grief.
It holds space for healing.
It becomes the anchor when someone else’s world is drifting.

Jesus Was a Master of the Ministry of Presence

If anyone had an excuse to be too busy, it was Jesus.

Yet He never rushed past the hurting.
He didn’t just heal the blind man—He touched him.
He didn’t just call Zacchaeus down—He ate at his house.
He didn’t just calm storms—He rode through them with His people.

Jesus knew that healing often begins with presence.

He didn’t outsource compassion. He stepped into the mess Himself.

And if we’re supposed to be like Him, that means doing the same.
Not just when it’s easy. Not just when it’s convenient. But especially when it’s hard.

Born for Adversity: What Proverbs 17:17 Really Means

That verse doesn’t say “a friend is helpful sometimes” or “a brother likes to check in occasionally.”
It says a friend loves at all times—in the highs, the lows, and the in-betweens.
And a brother is born for adversity.

That word “born” matters. It’s not accidental. It’s not a suggestion.
It means you were made for this.

You were wired to hold someone else’s arms up when they’re tired.
To carry hope when their tank is empty.
To be the one who stays when others step back.

Presence Isn’t Passive—It’s Purposeful

Some of the strongest people I’ve ever met were the quiet ones. They didn’t say much. They didn’t quote scripture every five minutes. But when everything went sideways, they were there.

Unshaken. Unmovable. Unapologetically present.

And you know what? That changed me. It modeled Jesus to me. And it made me want to be that for someone else.

Because if we’re being honest, most people don’t remember what we said—but they’ll never forget that we stayed.

So What Does It Look Like to Be a Pillar of Strength?

Let’s break it down in real-world terms:

• Text back. Call first. Show up. You don’t need an invitation to care.

• Sit with them in the waiting room. Or on the tailgate. Or in the dirt.

• Don’t flinch at the ugly parts. Love is strong enough to handle the mess.

• Be interruptible. The most powerful ministry moments don’t always fit in a time block.

• Offer prayer, yes. But offer presence first. Sometimes, just holding someone’s hand is all it takes.

Final Word: Love Doesn’t Leave

If you want to reflect Jesus to the people around you, you don’t need a platform. You need to stay.

Stay when it’s awkward.
Stay when it’s quiet.
Stay when the solution isn’t obvious.
Stay when they’re breaking down.

Because God didn’t abandon you in your worst moment—and He’s calling you to be that same kind of steady for someone else.

You were born for this.
You were made to stand.
You were created to be a pillar of strength.

And when your presence becomes someone else’s safe place, that’s when the Gospel gets personal.

That’s when heaven touches earth.