Summary: There’s more going on out there than what fits in a post. A husband and wife sold their house and moved here for this camp. When the cold hit, they were already in place — and it changed everything. Another group shows up out of nowhere with a meal.

Read Time: Four Minutes

The snow and ice finally melted enough for us to get a trailer back to the supplies we keep stored, which are hard to reach even in good weather. The week before had been brutal. Seventeen degrees. Everyone bundled so tightly you couldn’t tell who was who.

This time was different. It was warmer. Faces were visible.

And that’s when I noticed something that stopped me cold.

They were clean.

Clean clothes. Clean faces. They just… looked better than I’ve ever seen them. And I knew that didn’t happen by accident.

A husband-and-wife team who had volunteered with us several times sold their home in another county and moved here for one reason: to care for the people in this camp.

They first learned about it the way most people do — by quietly watching posts online that others scroll past without a second thought.

But they didn’t scroll. They stayed.

The home they bought has a separate living space. Camp residents can come in, get warm, shower, wash their clothes, and sit down to a solid meal. They hear the gospel. They’re treated like human beings.

They’ve taken the relationship to a level far beyond what we’re structured to do. What we do can feel like a torpedo run — we roll in once a month, loaded with supplies, and then disappear.

They didn’t disappear.

They made sure one of the girls could attend a dance in a beautiful dress. They’ve rushed people to medical care. Reunited others with family. When newcomers showed up without a tent or sleeping bag, they responded immediately. The risk of someone freezing dropped as fast as the temperature.

Yesterday, a group from outside camp asked us to help coordinate a meal. A full spread. The kind you’d want at your own family table. Residents were rounded up, sat down, and served. Plates were filled. Then filled again. And packed to go.

I’ve sat in plenty of meetings with community leaders. Good conversations. Positive dialogue.

But this? This is what it looks like when people actually do something.

Boots on the ground. No spotlight. No applause.

The love of Christ tends to show up that way — in the least suspected places, through the least expected people.

Ironically, much of this began because of social media posts that most people never think twice about.

Some scroll.

Some stay.

 

 

All of the real names used here were used with permission. Otherwise, the names have been changed. To protect the identity of those photographed, they have been blurred intentionally unless consent was given before publishing.

The Safer Kentucky Act, which went into effect on July 15, 2024, makes sleeping or camping in public areas illegal, including on sidewalks, roadsides, under bridges, or in parks, parking lots, garages, or doorways. The law creates a new offense called “unlawful camping” that can result in arrest and fines.  Assisting those individuals is considered to be aiding and abetting, which is a legal doctrine that refers to the act of helping or encouraging someone to commit a crime. The person who aids and abets is generally held to the same degree of criminal liability as the person who commits the crime.  We ask that you please not attempt to locate or visit Tent City.