*Photo from Dillon Shook on unsplash.com
The knock at the window in the kitchen of my office jolted me.
“I’m getting ready to lay down in front of the door!” yelled Fred* through the window.
“Ok! No problem!” I yelled back. “I’m getting ready to leave.”
I gathered my belongings and rushed out so that I wouldn’t interrupt Fred as he unrolled his sleeping bag in front of the entrance outside.
“Be safe out here,” I say as I hustle past him to my car.
As I get settled in the car and start up the engine, I notice that the 7 other unhoused people who sleep on that side of the building have also laid out their belongings – getting ready to lie down for the night.
I drive away, helplessly waving goodnight to them as I head back to my room rental. I wish there was more that I could do. I wake up 5-6 days a week and drive to my office in order to organize people to push for more affordable housing. I want to sit on the stoop and talk to Fred so that I can hear his story as I’ve heard some of the stories of other homeless people who live outside our building. I want to share my short story of couch surfing with him but it feels disingenuous; I wasn’t sleeping outdoors in the elements. I wasn’t sleeping in my car, yet researchers considered both of us to be homeless.
I’m still on my journey towards home ownership, and the odds are definitely not looking good. I remain steadfast in my search though because I know that God has not forgotten about me… just like He hasn’t forgotten Fred.
One day, I’m going to ask Fred about his story and let him know that thousands of people are pushing for…better.
*Name changed.