It’s not every day that you meet someone with so much heart who has also experienced so much loss. Anna Byers is something special—an anomaly of hope among the homeless. Very few people can endure the amount of suffering she has and still have poetry flow from them, spoken with a smile that is altogether infectious.
Anna left her home in Montana after her husband became abusive and, through a series of lies and opportunistic connections, gained custody of three of their four children. Though she admittedly struggled with drug use in the past, she says she was sober when her children were taken from her. As a fellow mother, I can only imagine how excruciating a loss like this would be.
She eventually made her way to California, where a serious car accident left her without stable footing. With no family to return to, Anna became homeless. Over time, she began to form family among the unhoused in Shasta County. The community she found was so deeply bonded that she chose to stay, and she has now been unhoused for the past nine years.
Why would someone choose to remain homeless? For Anna, it was here that she rediscovered her heart through offering her faith to her newfound brothers and sisters living in encampments around her. The daily struggle to survive on the streets—the disdain experienced from society and its systems, the constant theft, and the forced relocation—can wound the soul beyond what seems repairable. Yet despite experiencing all of this and more, Anna’s core belief in unity, love, and understanding was never shaken.
Drugs have long been prevalent as both a coping mechanism and survival tactic among the homeless, but the spread of fentanyl in recent years has taken the lives of dozens of Anna’s friends. She describes fentanyl users as people who are “dreaming life away because they can’t take reality.” For many living on the streets, the hope of reuniting with their children remains a powerful driving force. What keeps you going? This is a question we often ask as we sit with our friends in encampments. Is it your kids? The sense of purpose you’ve always carried deep inside? The longing for safety and stability? Or the words of encouragement you’ve clung to—words that speak a better truth over your life?
In turn, we must also ask ourselves how we are contributing to the barriers that keep people stuck and cast down. There are countless systemic issues—lack of affordable housing and transitional shelters, to name a few—but some of the most damaging barriers are rooted in our attitudes. How are our internal judgments, born of misunderstanding, passed on to those we pass by from the comfort of our cars? How do we choose distance and disconnection over the higher road of compassion? When we feel the nudge to stop and offer water, food, or even a few minutes of genuine presence, and we ignore it, are we neglecting those whom the Father loves? What might a true “hand up” look like if we were willing to loosen our grip on comfort and convenience?
“Whenever you question anything, ask yourself and God for an answer. Whenever you question your strength of will, know that you’re not the only one who’s got you. There’s always going to be someone there—whether you see them or not—who’s thinking about you and empowering you to survive and move forward. They believe in you, they love you, or you would not exist.”
—Anna Byers
Anna is truly a gem. Her words to her friends are powerful: if you believe in yourself, you can move mountains. Time and time again, I am humbled by the wisdom and resilience of the people we meet—those who have endured so much yet continue to offer hope so freely.
This should come as no surprise to God. In Ecclesiastes 9:15, it is written: “A poor, wise man knew how to save the town, and so it was rescued. But nobody remembered that poor man and his words were not heeded. So even though wisdom is better than strength, those who are wise will be despised if they are poor.”
Let us heed the wisdom of the poor—those who, in the trenches of despair, have profoundly experienced the comfort and love of God. In their cries for help, He heard them and delivered them. In the stripping away of the world’s distractions and noise, they have discovered what truly matters.
We are deeply thankful to have met Anna and to be inspired by the hope she carries. Through our connection, we were not only able to hear her story, but also to provide her with medical care. She was in severe pain from an infection in her leg, and Dr. David Thompson came out to treat her—offering care she otherwise could not have accessed without backpack medicine.
Anna’s story reminds us that dignity, wisdom, and faith are not lost to hardship—they are often forged in it. When we slow down long enough to truly see those living on the margins, we may discover that they have something vital to teach us about resilience, love, and what it means to be human. The invitation before us is simple but costly: to listen, to care, and to respond with compassion rather than judgment. In doing so, we may find that the hope we seek to offer is the very hope that changes us too.