If I were homeless, I would want to be treated with dignity and respect.
I would want people to see past the street dirt and grime to my tender heart beating underneath. I would ache for them to know that I have feelings–hopes, fears, and despair–and that I am not cold and uncaring.
Even if others could do nothing to help financially or physically, I would wish for them to stop and talk to me as a human brother or sister. I would yearn to feel the love of Jesus spilling from their words and seeping into the crevices of my pain.
I would long for both justice and mercy from those who call themselves Christians. I would crave their rapport as I seek a sustainable lifestyle, along with their affirmation that I have value to offer the world.
If I were homeless, I would want people to realize that they are each only one support-system away from being homeless, too.