I’ve learned a lot since the Different Kind of Birthday post, because the people that I went to “serve” have now actually become my friends.  Amazing how that changes things; it changes everything.

When we first started hanging out at the tents by the river, people who’d join us for the first time would ask what church or humanitarian organization we were with.  That doesn’t happen anymore, and it would be weird if it did.  I’m grateful there’s not a clear line between those serving and being served.  These are just the people I’ve chosen as friends.  And the good thing about a Chicago winter is you can’t tell who’s homeless because we’re all bundled up in 5 layers of clothing, lol.

One of the main things I’ve learned is that contrary to popular belief, it’s not that hard to become homeless. Most of us would be homeless if we lost our jobs and didn’t have the family, friends, church, or some type of support system as a backup.

Another common misconception is that these people must have burned every bridge and relationship in life to get where they are now. But I’ve also learned that’s not always the case.

Maybe it’s easier for us to think homeless people have had addictions or been selfish to end up where they are, because then it’s easier for us to swallow that they are living in such unacceptable conditions. But in some, if not many cases, it’s just the opposite. Sometimes they were the ones depending on a spouse who cheated or filed for divorce. Sometimes they weren’t prone to addictions or abusing, but were the ones on the receiving side of that trauma.

From what I’ve gathered in talking with those who know, when there isn’t much if any family to begin with, the path to being without support or options can be a fairly short one.

And some stories are even more simple than that: life is just hard. One bad break too many, turns into a few nights at a shelter, turns into hopelessness, turns into a lifestyle. And it’s hard to know how or if to ever climb back out again.

I’m not saying homeless people are all perfect or that addictions or poor choices are not a factor, but it’s important that this is not the only story we see. Because there are thousands of other narratives that don’t read this way.

I used to think of the homeless as “homeless people.” But now when I think of that label in light of how it can be sometimes used: categorizing a class of people in society, it’s pretty offensive, and kind of ridiculous. These are people, not homeless people. They are people that don’t have a street address. Not a different “type” of person.

It was a real game-changer in my mind to realize that anyone; a co-worker or loved one, can end up without a place to call home. And it feels different when I think about people I actually know being in this “category” of people. Not the nameless guy on the corner, my friend.  Because I don’t feel my friend deserves to live that way. No one deserves it. It’s just a very challenging life circumstance, that can be overcome. I know because I’ve seen it happen.

Plus, another tidbit of hopeful trivia: Jesus Himself was homeless.

That definitely helps put things into perspective. Jesus said, “the Son of Man has no place to lay His head” (Luke 9:58).  He didn’t actually have a place to call home, like many today.

It’s a good reminder that before we let ourselves fall into thinking someone deserves to be in a homeless situation, or that they are less valuable to society, we can first remember that the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords falls into this same category. Maybe this mindset could really change how we see “homeless people.”