It was late in 2012 when I was asked to come hang out at St. Benedict’s Shelter. My initial response reflected my own ignorance and selfishness —“Why would I want to hang out with the homeless?” At that time, I was so consumed by my own desires and personal growth that the world outside of myself seemed irrelevant. But after several requests, I reluctantly agreed, and it was there that I found a new sense of purpose.
As soon as I stepped through the doors of St. Benedict’s that September, I heard God say, “There you are.” In that moment, the denial I had lived in for so many years shattered. I had been homeless for over a decade, though I had always convinced myself that I was just living life freely, exploring the world. I’d tell myself I was living the dream—partying, drifting from place to place, crashing on couches, and sleeping in my car. But the truth was undeniable: I had been chronically homeless, and I had avoided facing it.
Walking into St. Benedict’s that day wasn’t just a visit—it was a life-changing experience. I hadn’t gone there looking for change; I was just there to “hang out.” But it didn’t take long for me to realize that my experiences could not only serve the people in the shelter but also support the agency’s mission. What started as a simple act of volunteering quickly turned into countless hours spent helping others. Some days I would volunteer 13 or 14 hours, but I was energized by the work. What I once saw as a sacrifice—time and energy spent on others—became a profound blessing in my own life.
My dedication to serving didn’t stop there. I was soon offered a part-time position, which I accepted without hesitation. By this time, I had discovered a passion for service that went beyond anything I had ever known. It was clear to me that I had found the true calling of my life: God and serving others. But this decision came at a cost. My wife at the time urged me to “find a real job” with a steady paycheck to support our family. But I couldn’t walk away from the work that was so meaningful to me. So, I took on a second full-time job at Lighthouse Recovery Services, just to keep my position at St. Benedict’s. The sacrifices I made—long hours, less time with family, a demanding schedule—were nothing compared to the fulfillment I found in being there for those men who needed me.
The following year, I realized that St. Benedict’s couldn’t afford a social worker, so I decided to pursue my GED and go back to school for social work. Little did I know, the journey would be far longer and more difficult than I had anticipated. It took eight years of being a full-time student, 20 hours a week spent interning at another agency, countless sleepless nights of homework, and sacrifices of time with my family. But I did it. I earned my master’s degree, and though the road was grueling, I never once regretted the path I chose.
Looking back, I could never have imagined that I would be working at a homeless shelter, going back to school, and making such deep sacrifices for the sake of others. What I thought were burdens—late nights, long hours, little personal time—turned out to be the very things that shaped me into the person I am today.
As we reflect on the work being done every day at St. Benedict’s Shelter, the Daniel Pitino Shelter, and all the other nonprofits in our community, I want to take a moment to praise those who serve selflessly. These individuals make countless sacrifices—time away from their families, long hours, emotional and physical exhaustion—all to lift others up. They pour their hearts into helping those who are struggling, and their impact is immeasurable. Every meal served, every bed offered, every moment spent providing support is a testament to their dedication.
I want to be very clear: I am not sharing my own sacrifices to boast or seek recognition. Instead, I am sharing this to acknowledge, encourage, and thank those who give so much of themselves, often without recognition. To those who serve—whether in shelters, food banks, outreach programs, military, hospitals, first responders, or any of the countless other services—thank you. Your work doesn’t go unnoticed. Your sacrifices are not in vain. You are the backbone of this community, and your efforts change lives every single day.
To those who are not yet serving, I encourage you to consider stepping forward. The needs are great, but the rewards are far greater. There is no greater fulfillment than knowing you’ve made a difference in someone’s life, that you’ve helped lift them out of their darkest moments and into hope. It is in these sacrifices—whether big or small—that we truly see the power of community and compassion.
To everyone who benefits from the efforts of these agencies and volunteers, take a moment to say thank you. A simple “thank you” can mean the world to someone who has given so much of themselves. Let’s not let their sacrifices go unrecognized. We all can make a difference, whether it’s by giving our time, resources, or simply offering a word of gratitude.
Imagine a world where everyone made even small sacrifices to help those in need. There would be no homelessness, no hunger, no one left behind. It is the collective effort of countless individuals who dedicate their time, their energy, and their hearts to lifting others up that create the services and support systems that communities depend on.
I cannot express enough gratitude to those in Owensboro who have given so much to help people in need. Your sacrifices are deeply appreciated, more than words can convey. Without you, there would be no shelter, no programs, no assistance for those who need it most. It was Owensboro that changed my life—and it was through the willingness of others to serve, to give, and to sacrifice that I was able to turn my life around.
In the end, it was my own humility and willingness to sacrifice that allowed me to hear the call to serve and to truly understand how I could make a difference. The work we do—whether seen or unseen—has far-reaching effects that impact not just the individual, but the entire community. And it is through those sacrifices that lives are transformed.
Written by
Harry E. Pedigo, MSSW, MHFAI
Executive Director
St. Benedict and Daniel Pitino Shelters
