A Holding Pattern for the Unhoused: Since When Did “I Need Help?” Become “Wait”?

When did “I need help, please” become a cue to wait? This question echoes in my mind after reading through dozens of housing assistance portals, church benevolence pages, and human services outreach applications. The language was striking—cold even.“Expect to wait.”“You will not hear from us while we process your application.”“Applications take 3–4 weeks to process." "We have a small benevolence fund reserved for members only.” This is more than policy, it's practice.

Sometimes there are promises of returned phone calls that never come. Offers to “see what we can do” that are quietly forgotten. The line goes silent, and so does the compassion. There’s a deep failure when someone in crisis is told to hold on for help that never arrives.

One of the greatest misnomers around church benevolence ministries and social service programs is the assumption that they are truly designed to help people in need. But often, the practice tells a different story—one where aid is wrapped in yellow tape and unrealistic participant requirements, crisis funds reserved for members only, and those who walk in off the street are quietly labeled as “other.” As if the ministry of Jesus didn’t start at the margins.

This is what someone faces when they’ve already lost time, footing, and maybe even their place to sleep that night.

And this is what we’ve come to accept?

Would your silence or your judgment help someone get back up — or keep them stuck where they are?

The lie is that homelessness only happens to people who’ve made bad choices or who struggle with substance abuse or mental illness. But many people are simply priced out, laid off, evicted, flooded out, or forced to survive without support. They are not the problem. The problem is the systems and institutions that call themselves safe havens, then lock the door.

So when I say “home” matters, I don’t just mean wallpaper and finishes. I mean shelter. I mean dignity. I mean the radical belief that everyone deserves a safe, secure place to land, and that our compassion should never be conditional.

Since this work, housing advocacy, and design are so closely woven together in the mission of my business, I feel a deep responsibility to speak with clarity and conviction. The spaces I design are meant to heal, affirm, and uplift. But none of that matters if we ignore those who have no space at all.

Supportive housing studio apartment concept.

Interior design is my craft, but the idea of home—real, secure, and sacred—is the heartbeat of my passion.

So this is your reminder: Kindness counts. Feed those who are hungry and asking for food. Extend grace. Extend presence. And when someone says, "I need help", don’t respond with silence. Respond with care.

Because home isn’t just four walls — it’s how we hold space for and carry one another.

With so much love,

Andrea 🖤