A Ministry of Presence

A Ministry of Presence

When I came to this land

with only a suitcase and a silent prayer,

it was your door that opened,

your hands that reached,

your voices that steadied my trembling steps

into unfamiliar roads and foreign winds.

You didn’t just teach me how to drive

you taught me how to steer.

Through sorrow,

through storms,

through systems I didn’t yet understand.

You held my pain

not with softness alone,

but with the fierce grace of truth.

No sugar, no pretense

just strength.

And oh, how I needed it.

You, a woman of flame and form

a healer with hands like devotion

and eyes that see what others miss.

Even when your own body cried for rest,

you showed up cast, crutches, and courage

because that’s what love does.

That’s what you do.

You moved through my mother’s final days

as though God had placed you there

to guide both the living and the leaving.

When I could not speak,

you became the voice of calm.

When I could not plan,

you became the hands of God.

And you, my blood 

a gentle soul with quiet might

your presence was the wind beneath

all our wings.

In silence or in laughter,

in lessons or in light,

you were always there

a steady heartbeat beside your queen.

Together, you’ve built not just a marriage

but a ministry.

A shared witness to what love can be:

steadfast, generous, enduring.

You have shown us that

a woman can lead without needing applause,

and a man can uplift without needing to speak.

That a family is not built in grand gestures,

but in daily faithfulness

in presence, in prayer, in patience.

And if ever I seemed cold, or lukewarm,

please know

beneath that stillness was always

the warmth of a thousand suns,

waiting for the right words

to say thank you.

Today, I say them.

Thank you.

For being my family when I had none.

For shaping me with firmness and fire.

For being love in motion,

and grace without conditions.

May this golden celebration shine

as brightly as the love you’ve sown

in every meal, every memory,

every quiet act of devotion.

May the years ahead be softer,

the path lighter beneath your steps.

May our love not grow older,

but deeper rooted in joy and peace.

May your home echo with laughter,

your names be spoken always

with warmth, pride, and reverence.

You are the golden thread in our family’s story.

And today, and always,

we celebrate you.

By Somi Philip Chempothara.