08/26/2026
**Something unexpected has happened to me during this move.**
I'm seeing people I wasn't really seeing before...at least not as many.
Or maybe that's not quite right.
**I'm seeing them differently, perhaps more clearly.**
And I think that sharpened awareness began with a phone call.
āUmā¦is this FISH Ministries?ā
āI've never called here beforeā¦but, well, truth is, we need food. It's me and my wife. Our income was unexpectedly cut by a third.
I just haven't figured out what to do yetā¦I have no idea, really.ā
Quiet.
āBut I'm not ready to give up. So, I heard you might help us with food. I don't have transportation, but I think I can walk to you.ā
It was already 103 degrees when I got the call.
In the middle of this move, Rebeka and I have been taking turns answering the phones. That day, while I was talking to this gentleman, she was talking to someone who was camping out behind a building.
Trying to carve out a place to exist.
**In this heat.**
I gave the gentleman our new address on ONeal.
He was about three miles away.
He said he would walk.
And he did.
In the middle of the day, carrying a backpack.
I was just sick thinking about it.
Later, my phone rang again.
He had walked to the wrong place.
Miles in the wrong direction.
And he was prepared to turn around and walk to ONeal.
We packed an emergency bag for him, and there was no way we were letting him make that walk. Rebeka and I split the cost of an Uber and sent him home with food.
But something changed for me after that.
**I started noticing the backpacks.**
People, all over town, with backpacks.
**In this heat.**
We all notice someone pushing a shopping cart. It's hard not to.
But the backpacks?
I hadn't really noticed them before.
Now I see them everywhere.
During this move, I've become much more acquainted with some of our neighbors who are homeless, living in motels, or what I have started thinking of as āfloatingāāfinding a place to sleep wherever a friend or family member will allow for a night or two.
And now that I'm seeing them differently, I am shocked at how many there are.
It has also made me think differently about what it means to feed someone.
If you don't have stable housing, you don't have a pantry.
You don't have a refrigerator.
You may not have a stove or a microwave.
You may not even have a can opener.
So food assistance looks different.
**Pop-top cans. Tear-open packages. Screw-off lids.**
Food you can carry.
Food you can open.
Food you can actually eat.
Although our pantry is closed while we move, people have continued walking over to ONeal after reading our relocation signs at King Street. So we've kept what we call **ready-to-eat bags** available.
This move has put me a little closer to some of our neighbors and their stories.
One man was walking miles in 103-degree heat because his income had been cut and he wasn't ready to give up.
Someone else was behind a building trying to carve out a place to exist.
And there are people all over Greenville carrying backpacks whose stories I don't know at all.
That's what has changed for me.
I notice.
I wonder.
And I try not to assume.
So maybe the next time you're driving through Greenville, you'll notice the backpacks, too.
Not because everyone carrying one has the same story.
But because there's a person carrying it.
A person who may be fearful.
A person who may be desperate.
A person who may be incredibly determined.
A person whose story we simply don't know.
**And knowing the story isn't a prerequisite for offering dignity.**
I see them clearly now....in this heat.
They arenāt bothering anyone. They are surviving.
I hope you see them more clearly, too.