What They Wish You Knew

From a Parent’s Perspective 

As a parent, you never imagine your child will ever end up homeless or enslaved to addiction. Yet it happens every day. Mothers and fathers who raised their children in “normal” homes, who loved their child and raised them to be successful and self-sufficient, still find themselves watching helplessly as addiction creeps in and destroys everything. 

“It can happen to anybody. It doesn’t matter where you’re from, or who you are.” – Kallie 

Addiction and homelessness don’t discriminate. They are not the result of parents failing to love, but the result of a disease that strips people of choice and leaves families powerless. Parents carry the crushing weight of watching their child spiral, wondering if today is the day they’ll answer the phone call that changes everything—or the one that brings the worst news imaginable. 

“I loved her every single day, but there wasn’t anything I liked about her. I had to let her go and she plummeted, but there was nothing I could do. They have to be ready and willing.” – Kallie 

Behind every story of addiction and homelessness is a parent who has wept through the night, begged God for a breakthrough, and done everything in their power to save their child. They live with questions that never go away: Did I do enough? Did I do too much? Will today be the day they choose help—or the day I lose them forever?

From an Unhoused Perspective 

“When people cross the street because they see you, it feels like you’re not even human anymore. The hardest part was the shame. You feel like you don’t belong anywhere – like you’re no longer a part of society.” – Joe 

When someone ends up on the streets, the first thing they notice is not just the heat, the cold, or the hunger, but the way people look at them… or don’t look at all. Eyes shift away. Strangers cross the street. Fear replaces kindness, and suspicion overrides compassion. 

That kind of rejection cuts deeper than hunger ever could. It breeds shame, and when you start to believe the lie that you don’t belong, and that there’s no way back, you begin to ask yourself, “why would I even try?” 

This is the invisible weight so many carry. They’re not just battling addiction or poverty—they are battling the crushing belief that they are no longer human—that they no longer matter… to anyone. It’s a wound that keeps people isolated and afraid to reach out for help. 

They wish the world knew that beneath the addiction, beneath the despair, there is a person who is hurting but longing to be seen, and hoping there’s a way back. 

From GRM’s Perspective 

Homelessness doesn’t always match the picture in your mind—it often looks like someone you know. 

Sometimes it’s a mom with two kids, escaping an abusive relationship. Sometimes it’s a father who worked hard his whole life, but one medical bill pushed him over the edge. 

“Everything fell apart slowly… we couldn’t believe it was happening to us.” – Shandi, current guest 

Some end up here because life unraveled in an instant. A car broke down… hours were cut at 

work… rent went up. And suddenly, a family that was holding things together found themselves with nowhere to go.

Only 18% of the homeless population is chronically homeless. The rest are temporary. Most you’ll never even see on the streets, because they’re couch surfing, bouncing from motel to motel, or living in their cars. 

They are truly invisible. 

“Every day we get to witness miracles! It’s not always easy stepping into the darkness with someone whose life has fallen apart; but this work is needed. What I wish people knew is how much of a difference it makes when we refuse to give up on someone.”  – Wes Shepherd, Chief Community Officer, GRM 

Shining a Light on Homelessness, Addiction, and Hope

Thank you to everyone who joined us for Conversations on a Bench, held October 9–10, where voices were shared for 24 hours straight—from noon to noon. 

Your stories and presence made this event truly meaningful. 

For those who couldn’t watch it live or would like to experience it again, you can view the event online at www.grmtucson.com/bench. 

We are grateful for your support and for being part of a community that listens, learns, and grows together. 

Meeting People Where They Are

 Oftentimes, when I take people on a tour of Gospel Rescue Mission, I’ll hear the phrase, “I had no idea!” They had no idea a place like this existed or that the Center of Opportunity was so comprehensive. 

And as much as I love sharing what we’re doing, one thing I don’t often hear is, “I had no idea people were suffering like this,” or “I had no idea the need is so great.” 

Homelessness is an issue that gets talked about a lot, and even the rhetoric around it is dehumanizing. It’s often labeled “the homeless issue” or “the homeless crisis.” Rarely do you see a story that talks about the plight of the homeless, and when you do, it’s often wrapped in the belief that we should let them live on the streets. 

On both sides, what you see is a lack of compassion and understanding. 

What I wish people knew is that the “homeless crisis” is about people—people struggling with addiction, mental health, and other circumstances. They feel ashamed, hopeless, and discarded by the world. 

Leaving them on the streets is not compassion. Hiding them in a motel for a night is not compassion. Treating them like a problem instead of a person is not compassion. 

This is why we’ve always focused on the root issues of homelessness. Real compassion doesn’t look away, and it doesn’t settle for quick fixes. Real compassion leans in and asks, “What’s keeping this person trapped? How do we walk with them through healing, recovery, and transformation?” 

We believe every person has a purpose and deserves more than a bed for a night. They deserve the chance for a new beginning and wholeness—mind, body, and spirit. GRM will always focus on addressing the root causes of homelessness: addiction, mental illness, trauma, poverty, unemployment, and lack of housing. GRM will surround people with a supportive community that treats every person with love, grace, dignity, and respect. 

My hope is that none of us grows numb to the suffering around us. That instead of saying, “I had no idea,” we will be the people who see, who care, and who act—so that every man, woman, and child knows they matter. 

Thanking God for you,
Lisa Chastain
Chief Executive Officer