I heard him before I saw him. As Brandi and I were hiking down a well-worn, but narrow path in the woods, I heard him bellow, “Lift up your Bibles!” He had all the fervor of what one might expect in an old-time tent revival. A little farther down the path, it opened up to reveal the campsite. As we looked around, we saw tents, some manufactured from old tarps and blankets. Others were real tents, but time had taken its toll on their utility. It was a homeless camp. The man who was preaching so fervently stopped when he saw us and said, “Hi! I’m Jerry.” We introduced ourselves and said, “Are you hungry? or thirsty?” and held out a sack lunch and bottle of water. He offered us his religious views on the second coming and quizzed us. We failed badly. But he smiled with an angelic grin and told us we were cute. He asked what the name was of the next Messiah and I said, “Jerry?” I was rewarded with another sweet grin. After a while, we offered food for the others who were in hiding or away from the camp, we told Jerry we enjoyed our time together, and we him bid a fond good bye. 
How did this exchange come to be? The first Saturday of every month, Brandi and I have an assembly line in our kitchen. I make turkey and cheese sandwiches and she puts them in bags with chips and granola bars. Last month, we tucked some Easter candy in the lunches. At Christmas, I had fun baking homemade cookies. Then we drive to where we know the homeless will be and we give them food and water. This experience has taken us to homeless camps, under bridges, and on the streets of Rockford. We refer to it as Are You Hungry? The first words we utter when we meet someone in need. When we started this, we only had two expectations. First, no one would be required to do anything to get food and water, including prayer or listening to us talk. This was done with simple grace. Second, we would always look people in the eye and interact with them. This wasn’t just about feeding their stomachs; it was letting them know they’re not invisible, that they matter. We have never fed the homeless that we don’t have an interaction that touches us, inspires us, and heals us in some way.
So, if this is a blog about my journey with cancer, where does Jerry come in? He comes in because cancer can make the world seem so small, and I want to be engaged in all of life. I want to live an intentional life, not just my little corner with cancer. I want to know that in small, minute ways I have made someone’s world a little brighter. I have not cured Jerry’s mental illness or addiction. I have not guaranteed him ongoing meals. I just gave him what we all need, to feel like we matter.