Survival mode for me looks a lot different than for some people I know. Moving my family from one home to another was a lesson in survival mode. The past 2 months have been a time that I've been so forgetful, my prayer life so shriveled, my body so sore and disoriented. However, I always had a light at the end of the tunnel. My family owns (sort of) a nice and comfortable home.
I have the privilege to move my family and possessions over two months for sanity and convenience. People were willing to help (though moving tests friendships). Many people I know through ministry move their belongings every day, or at least frequently. They become disconnected with their loved ones in this way of life. I know I've been quite cranky with mine.
I found myself sleeping in strange places and/or configurations, but it was never a cold place or a dirty place. Moving is more than a pain; it's a small peek into the world that many in my position in society often ignore or shun at worst; respect or pity, yet fear at best. This place of pain and disorientation is not usually a place of grace. Sure, bootstraps may be available from time to time, but too often circumstances are unbearable, yet maybe tolerable for another day.
Maybe the survival mode existence is why Jesus thought to bring good news to the poor.