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On the Streets of Albuquerque

Jeremy Reynalds, Ph.D. - 1/11/2008

It was a cold January afternoon in Albuquerque as I came out of the post office. I was just about to get in my car as a man who was, I suspect, much younger than he looked approached me and with obvious difficulty slurred out the words, “Can you give me 50 cents to catch the bus to get home?”

I asked him where “home” was, and as he said “the pueblo,” the rancid stench of alcohol assaulted me.

He seemed obviously under the influence, but I asked him anyway, “Have you been drinking?” Unable to understand his reply I asked him if he had a home.

He said no, and that he’d been sleeping outside. I asked the man his name and he said, “Anaya.” I asked him if that was his first or last name, and he just looked at me vacantly.

I said, “Anaya, do you have any family?” He said his wife had died. I asked him if he had any children, but his response was incomprehensible so I asked him if he’d like a place to stay.

“It’s too cold to sleep outside, Anaya,” I said.

His response really surprised me. “I’m immune to it,” he said.

However, he added, “I’m really tired and want to sleep. My bones feel like they’re breaking.”

My heart broke for Anaya. What experiences had he endured that had caused him to come to this point in his life? I knew of only one way to get some immediate help for Anaya.

I asked Anaya if I could pray with him, and he immediately agreed. He was wearing thick woolen gloves, one of which he immediately took off so he could clasp his hand in mine. That really affected me, as the action indicated to me that he really wanted the touch of another human being’s hand. I wondered how long it had been since he had felt any kind of human contact.

So right there in the Post Office parking lot I closed my eyes and we had church. I don’t know about Anaya, but I was oblivious to everything going on around me as I asked the Lord to touch Anaya and make Himself real to this obviously troubled man.

As I opened my eyes, I saw Anaya looking at me. His face was just a few inches from mine. I asked him if he knew Jesus. He looked almost a little indignant that I asked him, and said (quoting Matthew 8:20), “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.”

I said, “Anaya, that’s great. So you know Jesus, right?”

He said, “Yes.”

I asked Anaya if he would like a place to stay. He said he would, so I said if he would stay right there I would call Joy Junction and have our van driver come and get him. I figured that what Anaya needed most at that point was to get off his feet, have somewhere warm to lie down and get some sleep. Anything else could wait until he’d had some rest and was sober.

I put my hand on Anaya’s arm, and told him to be safe until our driver came. He said he didn’t want to stay there but he would go to McDonalds (just down the road from where we stood), and wait for our driver to come.

I said okay and went on my way, praying for him as I drove off. Once in the car I checked in with our office to make sure that a driver was on the way. I was assured that someone was.

A little while later Joy Junction’s afternoon driver called me and said he had found Anaya, but there was a problem. He didn’t want to go to the shelter unless he could bring his beer with him. I said no, that wouldn’t be appropriate, wondering what was going through Anaya’s mind that he would trade a warm, safe place to stay for beer and a cold, miserable night on the street.

An hour or so later, I saw Anaya struggling down an Albuquerque street as the rain began to fall on Albuquerque streets and the day grew even chillier as it got later.

Written off by many, Anaya remained on my mind – one of Albuquerque’s many homeless population who despite their troubles are still incredibly precious in God’s sight.

In Retrospect