They Said Homelessness Was A Choice — The Truth Will Break Your Heart (And Show You How To Help)

The rain wasn’t gentle; it was a cold, relentless drizzle that seeped through layers of clothing and chilled you to the bone. Under the overpass, Sarah pulled a thin, damp blanket tighter around her two children, trying to use her own body as a shield against the wind whipping off the passing cars. Just six months ago, they were in a different world. She was a receptionist; her husband, David, worked construction. They paid their rent, albeit with held breath each month as the cost of everything—groceries, gas, utilities—crept higher and higher.

Then David tore his rotator cuff on a job site. The contractor he worked for didn’t carry insurance. The medical bills arrived first, a cascade of white envelopes with bold, red numbers. Then the eviction notice came, a single sheet of paper that erased their stability. Their “savings” was a $500 buffer that vanished in a week. They had no family to turn to, no network to catch them.

They applied for help, but the waiting list for housing vouchers was years long. The shelters were full, and the ones with space couldn’t take a family with a teenage boy; they had to split up. The idea of staying together, of safety, of dignity, dissolved into a maze of applications, bureaucratic hurdles, and impossible choices. A single mother with two kids, competing for an apartment in a market where rents had doubled? It was a fantasy.

Sarah didn’t choose this. The system—a tangled web of stagnant wages, a severe lack of affordable housing, discriminatory policies against housing voucher holders, and a safety net stretched to its breaking point—chose for her.

Maybe you’ve driven past a tent city or a person holding a sign at an intersection and heard the whisper, either from others or from your own heart: They must have chosen this. They must have done something wrong.

But friends, the truth is far more complex, and it will break your heart. And in that brokenness, in that sacred space of empathy, is where the heart of our God beats strongest, and where He calls us to respond.

The Reality of the Crisis: It’s Not a Monolith, It’s a Mosaic

Homelessness in America is not a single story of addiction or mental illness, though those are tragic and real factors for many. It is most often a perfect storm of systemic failures.

· The Affordability Chasm: In no state can a full-time minimum wage worker afford a two-bedroom apartment. For many families like Sarah’s, one missed paycheck, one medical emergency, one car breakdown is all that stands between them and the street.

· The Discrimination Wall: Even when assistance is available, landlords can legally refuse to accept tenants using housing vouchers, effectively locking out the most vulnerable.

· The Policy Trap: Zoning laws often prevent the construction of smaller, more affordable housing units. “NIMBYism” (“Not In My Backyard”) pushes needed resources and shelters into already marginalized communities, further concentrating poverty.

· The Trauma Spiral: Life on the streets is inherently traumatic. The constant state of fight-or-flight, the lack of sleep, the loss of safety and dignity—this trauma can lead to behaviors that look like choices from the outside but are often desperate survival mechanisms.

When we see the issue through this lens, our judgment softens, and our compassion has room to grow. We begin to see not a “homeless person,” but a person—a soul made in the image of G-d, experiencing a profound depth of suffering.

The Heart of G-d for the Homeless: A Thread Through Scripture

Our faith is not a passive one. From Genesis to Revelation, the heart of G-d is oriented toward the poor, the oppressed, the alien, and the marginalized. He identifies with them so closely that our treatment of them is a direct reflection of our relationship with Him.

In the Torah (Old Testament):

“Do not oppress a foreigner; you yourselves know how it feels to be foreigners, because you were foreigners in Egypt.” (Exodus 23:9)

Our entire identity as Jewish people is rooted in the memory of being oppressed, landless, and without a home. G-d commands empathy based on our own historical experience. We are to look at the stranger and see our own ancestors.

“If anyone is poor among your fellow Israelites in any of the towns of the land the LORD your God is giving you, do not be hardhearted or tightfisted toward them. Rather, be openhanded and freely lend them whatever they need.” (Deuteronomy 15:7-8)

The instruction is not a suggestion; it’s a command against the hardness of heart that says, “It’s not my problem.” The “open hand” is the posture G-d calls us to embody.

“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?” (Isaiah 58:6-7)

The prophet Isaiah cuts to the core. G-d’s chosen fast is not merely abstaining from food but actively engaging in acts of justice and mercy. True worship is providing shelter.

In the Gospels (New Testament):

Yeshua’s ministry was fundamentally one of radical inclusion and practical compassion for those on the margins.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’” (Matthew 25:34-36)

In this powerful parable, Yeshua makes it stunningly clear: how we treat the most vulnerable (“the least of these”) is how we treat Him. Offering shelter (“I was a stranger and you invited me in”) is literally equated with serving Messiah Himself.

“But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him.” (Luke 10:33-34)

The Good Samaritan didn’t ask how the man ended up in that ditch. He didn’t question his life choices. He saw a human being in need and responded with practical, costly, hands-on help. This is our model.

What Keeps People Trapped: The Cycle of Disempowerment

Understanding the barriers is key to offering effective help. It’s rarely a simple matter of “getting a job.” Imagine trying to apply for a job without a mailing address, a shower, clean clothes, or a safe place to sleep. The barriers are immense:

· No Address: How do you get a job or ID without a permanent address?

· No Safety: Storage of belongings, finding safe sleep, and avoiding violence is a daily, all-consuming struggle.

· Broken Trust: Many have been failed by systems and people so many times that trusting help is difficult.

· The Crushing Weight of Shame: The societal stigma is a heavy burden that erodes self-worth and makes reaching out feel impossible.

Our call is not to reinforce these barriers with our judgment, but to help break them down with our compassion.

How We Can Respond as Believers: Faith Embodied in Action

We are not helpless in the face of this crisis. As people who serve a G-d of redemption and restoration, we are empowered to be agents of His love in practical ways. Here’s how we can start:

1. Shift Our Perspective: This is the first and most important step. Commit to replacing judgment with curiosity, and scorn with empathy. See the person, not the problem.

2. Engage with Compassionate Curiosity: If you feel led to interact, do so with dignity. A simple, “Hello, how are you today?” or “Can I buy you a meal?” acknowledges their humanity. Listen to their story if they want to share it.

3. Support Ministries Already Doing the Work: We don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Find and support local Messianic Jewish or Christian ministries, Jewish Family Services, or shelters that provide not just temporary band-aids but holistic, housing-first solutions.

4. Advocate for Justice: Use your voice. Support local policies that encourage affordable housing, protect tenants, and fund mental health and addiction services. This is a deeply biblical principle—speaking up for those who cannot speak for themselves (Proverbs 31:8-9).

5. Give Practical, Tangible Help: Donate to food pantries and shelters, but think critically about what they need. Socks, underwear, feminine hygiene products, and gift cards for groceries are often in high demand.

6. Pray with Purpose: Prayer is not a last resort; it is our first and most powerful weapon. Pray for:

    * Protection and Provisionfor those on the streets.

    * Wisdom and Compassionfor policymakers and service providers.

    * Softened Heartsin our communities to respond with mercy.

    * Divine Appointmentsfor you to be a blessing to someone in need.

You Are Part of the Community of Compassion

Maybe you’re reading this and your heart is stirring, but you feel overwhelmed. You wonder what difference one person can make. Remember the words of Rabbi Shaul (Paul): “For we are G-d’s handiwork, created in Messiah Yeshua to do good works, which G-d prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10)

You are created for a purpose. Those “good works” include acts of kindness, justice, and mercy. They include extending the same compassion to others that G-d has extended to you.

This is the work of tikkun olam—repairing the world. It’s the work Yeshua began, and it’s the work He invites us to continue, one act of love, one word of encouragement, one gesture of compassion at a time.

If this message has resonated with you, if you feel that holy nudge to get involved, we welcome you to join us in this mission. You can:

· Commit to praying for the homeless in your city by name, asking G-d for specific opportunities to help.

· Share this article with your home group or congregation to start a conversation.

· Reach out to a local ministry and ask them what they need most—whether it’s time, resources, or skills.

· Give generously to organizations that are on the front lines, providing not just shelter, but hope and a path to restoration.

This is not about a single program; it’s about a people. It’s about living out our faith in a way that honors the One who had no place to lay His head, so that everyone might have a place to call home.

Together, as a community of faith, we can be a light in the darkness, a hand in the struggle, and a reflection of the Father’s heart to a world in desperate need of His love.

Baruch ha'ba b'Shem Adonai. (Blessed is he who comes in the Name of the Lord.) May we be the ones who bring His blessing to others.