My husband and I were carrying our luggage around he had a large suitcase, and I had a small carry-on.  We also had a big Old Navy bag that looked like one of those oversized brown paper grocery bags. As we crossed the street, a woman rolled down her window with genuine concern in her eyes and asked, “Are you guys okay?”

I didn’t think much of it in the moment. I smiled, waved, and said, “Yes,” before we continued on our way. We were waiting at a Starbucks, planning to stay the weekend with friends who were on their way to pick us up. So there we sat for a few hours, surrounded by our weekend bags, sipping coffee, and just waiting.

While we waited, my daughter called. Somewhere in that conversation, I had time to process what had happened earlier with the woman.

And then it hit me she thought we were homeless.

It wasn’t a thought that had ever crossed my mind before, at least not in my adult life. The realization stopped me. For a brief moment, in someone else’s eyes, I was seen as someone without a home.

When I told my daughter about it, I could only laugh softly and shake my head. I knew I wasn’t homeless because I had a place to stay, but I also knew I didn’t have a home of my own at that moment. I remembered recently asking if I could use someone’s address to renew my license. I knew that wasn’t my home, but it was something I had to do.

Even then, I could feel there was a lesson in all of this.

At that point, everything important to me was with me my husband, our essentials, and a few sentimental items tucked into a small storage unit. We had learned from our last living situation not to take up too much space or inconvenience anyone. This time, we were doing things differently.

But as I sat there, I couldn’t help but feel a deep heaviness in my heart for the homeless community. I should have always carried that kind of compassion, but life has a way of putting us in situations that open our eyes and soften our hearts.

Sometimes it takes walking through something yourself to truly see others clearly.

I’m grateful- grateful that we had a place to go, grateful for the people who made room for us, and grateful that this experience reminded me of the kind of person I want to be. Compassionate. Aware. Willing to act.

Because when God allows us to experience certain things, it’s rarely just about us. It’s about learning, growing, and letting empathy take root in a way that changes how we see the world and how we serve it.