On Sunday, December 10, 2016, I experienced what it was like to be homeless. I was among forty-five other men and women who were escaping the cold, night air and were seeking a warm place to bed down for the night. I spent ten hours with these people, who just like me, were blessed enough to have been directed to this place and so we wound up there at the same time. Like everyone else there, I had the privilege of being allowed to stay there all night. I feel as though I may have confused some of you, because it must seem strange to call it a privilege, but what you must understand is that being there overnight was a choice for me. I didn't have to be there, let alone spend the night and the following morning I was able to return to the comfort of my own home. So let me explain how I ended up in a homeless shelter for the night by going back to where the journey began for me.

When my husband, children, and I joined our church a year ago, I began hearing other members speak of something they referred to as “homeless week," and naturally, I was intrigued; I wanted to know more. I asked around and what I found out was that our church partners with two local organizations called Portsmouth Volunteers for the Homeless, Inc. and Oasis Ministries to provide homeless men and women in our area with a hot meal and a warm place to sleep for the night. For one week every December, we open up the doors to our church each night to feed and shelter those who have nowhere else to go. It’s difficult to describe the emotions that washed over me when I learned of this, but what I can put into words is how overjoyed and blessed I felt to be a part of a church who had such strong ties to service and helping the community.

As a child, I can remember my mother stopping and handing the homeless gentlemen on the corner money, and sometimes, when we had no money to spare, she would give him food and water. I never really gave it much thought though because to me it was just something my sisters and I were brought up to do, so when I learned that my church needed volunteers for "homeless week," I decided I would sign up and I did so as an overnight volunteer. This meant that I would come in when dinner was almost over around 8 p.m. and would stay until 7 a.m. the following morning. My only job was just to be there in case I was needed and to act as a sentry, or night watchman, making sure that should an emergency arise, I was available to contact the necessary authorities.

Unfortunately, when my night rolled around last year my youngest daughter came down with the flu and I was not able to fulfill my obligation. Needless to say, when December rolled around again this year, I sought out the individual who coordinated the overnight volunteers to make sure I signed up again.

And this year I was able to keep my word. When my night came around, I walked through those doors a little apprehensive, but ready to help out. I arrived about thirty minutes before dinner was over, but in time to hear the message of faith that was shared with the men and women that night. I was there to join with them and sing Christmas carols and to laugh with them. I was there to talk with them and watch a movie.

I met some of the sweetest, kindest, and friendliest men and women that night—human beings just like me. As I helped the women prepare their room for sleeping, we swapped stories of motherhood and family, of what they dreamed of doing with their lives, and stories of who they were before they had to rely on the kindness of strangers. Some of these men and women are just a little down on their luck this month, but most likely will bounce back fairly quickly. Others, are not quite so lucky and have been out of work and on the streets for years.

It's a very humbling experience to say the least. It makes you think about everything you have in your life and of those things you barely take the time to thank God for on a daily basis. More than once that night I can remember longing for a hot shower and to lay down in my bed to sleep because I was not used to staying awake all night. I don’t know what it’s like to not have a warm place to sleep because I have always had a home and a bed to sleep in. I know nothing of the intense longing for a hot meal, because I have always had enough to eat. And I pray that I never have to go to sleep wondering where my children are and if they might care enough to shelter me for the night like one woman I met.

More than once, I found myself wiping a few tears from eyes as I wondered how it was that God had allowed me to have so much and them so little. No one should have to be afraid to go to sleep at night because someone might steal what little possessions they own. No human being should be left wandering the streets on a cold night searching for food and shelter.

This is an experience I will not soon forget and I guarantee you I will be there next year, keeping watch all night long, just as I did this past Sunday night. Unfortunately, as I stated earlier, it will be a choice for me and once again, when my shift is over, I will get to leave and return to my home.

So, tonight, as I have every night this week since Sunday, I will lay my head down on my pillow and I will thank God for all that I have been blessed with. And then I will ask Him to please let me see some new faces next year, as strange as that may sound, because then that will give me hope that every bad situation can be turned around for the better.

The takeaway from all of this: never forget to count your blessings. Tomorrow it could be you.