Kohathite: The One Question Every Person On The Street Is Asked (And The Answer That Will Break Your Heart)

The One Question Every Person On The Street Is Asked (And The Answer That Will Break Your Heart)

The Question That Cuts Deeper Than Hunger

I’ll never forget the man I met sitting outside a library one afternoon. He had a tattered backpack, a paper cup, and eyes that carried more stories than he could tell. I asked him if he wanted something to eat. He nodded gratefully, and then he whispered something I’ll never forget:

"You’re the first person today who didn’t ask me what I did wrong to end up here."

That’s the question—sometimes spoken aloud, sometimes hidden in the way people look at him:
“What did you do to deserve this?”

It’s the question every person on the street is asked, directly or indirectly. And the answer will break your heart, because most of the time, they didn’t “do” anything wrong. Life unraveled through a series of job losses, medical bills, family fractures, or rent hikes. Sometimes trauma, sometimes tragedy, often circumstances far beyond their control.

And yet society frames homelessness as a personal failure, when in reality, it’s a communal one.

When We See Through God’s Eyes

Jesus told His disciples in John 9:1–3, when they asked about the blind man: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus replied, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.’

How often do we do the same? We assume hardship equals fault. But Jesus breaks that equation. He reminds us that suffering isn’t always the result of sin—it can be a space where God’s compassion, provision, and glory shine through.

Homelessness doesn’t mean failure. It means a story still unfolding. A place where God’s people are called to step in and love.

The Psalms of the Street

The Book of Psalms often gives language to the cries of those in need. Psalm 34:6 says: “This poor man called, and the Lord heard him; He saved him out of all his troubles.”

For the person on the street, the prayer is often that simple: “Lord, hear me.”
And God does hear. But often, He answers through us.

Every sandwich handed over, every bottle of water shared, every conversation that affirms dignity—it’s God hearing and responding through His people.

Breaking the Myths and Seeing the Person

One woman told me, “People think I’m lazy. I’ve been working since I was 14. I didn’t choose this.”

Another man said, “They think I’m dangerous. I’m more afraid of them than they are of me.”

These are the myths we carry: that people experiencing homelessness are always addicts, criminals, or lazy. The truth is far more complex—and far more human. Many are veterans, caregivers, students, parents. Many are people who once sat in church pews, went to little league games, or lived next door.

Proverbs 31:8–9 calls us to a different response: “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

This isn’t pity—it’s justice. It’s dignity. It’s choosing to see people as image-bearers of God rather than statistics or stereotypes.

The Resilience on the Sidewalks

What amazes me most is not just the pain, but the resilience. I’ve met people who organize blankets for others on cold nights, who share what little food they have with strangers, who watch over each other’s belongings while one goes to a job interview.

There is community, generosity, and even joy on the sidewalks. It’s a reminder that resilience is not the absence of struggle—it’s the courage to keep going in spite of it.

Isaiah 58:10 captures this beautifully: “If you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.”

When we pour into the lives of the marginalized, light rises—not just for them, but for us, too.

How We Can Help—Steps That Matter

You may not be able to solve homelessness on your own, but you can do something. And when small acts multiply, they change lives.

See and acknowledge. Sometimes the greatest gift is eye contact and a “hello.” Dignity begins with being seen.
Keep care kits. Simple bags with socks, snacks, water, hygiene items can make a huge impact.
Support local shelters and outreach groups. They often need funds, volunteers, or donated supplies.
Advocate for systemic change. Write to local leaders about affordable housing and supportive services. Faith calls us to act not only with compassion but with justice.
Pray with action. When you pray for the homeless, ask God how He wants to use you as part of the answer.

Like the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25–37, we don’t need to step over those lying by the road. We can stop, kneel, and help.

A Kingdom Where Everyone Belongs

Jesus Himself had no place to lay His head (Luke 9:58). He identified fully with those who are unhoused. The Kingdom He proclaimed is one where every person has a place, where the table is long and the chairs are many.

Our call is not to walk past, but to walk with. Not to judge, but to join. Not to ask, “What did you do wrong?” but instead, “How can I love you right now?”

A Gentle Invitation

If this story moved you, I invite you to join me in this work of seeing, writing, and speaking up. You can:

Pray for this mission and for those living on the streets.
Share these stories so others might see what often goes unseen.
Offer encouragement that fuels this work.
Or, if you feel led, give to support writing that lifts up dignity and truth.

This is not about one voice, but about all of us—choosing to see, choosing to act, choosing to love.

Because the one question people on the streets are asked shouldn’t be “What did you do wrong?”
It should be: “How can we help you live with dignity, hope, and belonging?”