I Trust You, Heart


karla mendoza -i trust you, heart-3By Karla Mendoza | Twitter: @karlamendoza19

“You are not forgotten.”

This time around I had just finished sharing my testimony about living in the United States as an undocumented immigrant for the past 16 years and how God has been so faithful to me and my family, when this lovely older woman came up to me and spoke the words that have touched my heart so many times.

“You are not forgotten.”

Those words always brought tears to my eyes or laughter to my dreams, but this time around I didn’t feel anything. I’d just shared the story of how God has been so faithful to me and my heart, yet when I heard the words I knew were coming from God, my heart didn’t even blink. I could hear her words over and over as the night went on. Why couldn’t I connect?

You see, growing up as an undocumented immigrant meant so many of my dreams always seemed forgotten, they were always on hold, and to some extent, some (if not most) of my dreams are still on hold. So whenever I would hear those words, through prayer, through a note someone left in my Bible or through the friend who called me just to remind me of those same words, I knew God was referring to my dreams, especially the ones only He knows about.

I wanted those words to mean the same thing this time around. I wanted God to remind me that He remembers my dreams, and while that is still true, I know that I heard the gentle voice of Spirit deep within my heart say, “I always remember your dreams, but in the same manner, I always remember your tears.”

I’ll be honest, I was not expecting that at all. Not because I don’t believe God doesn’t see my pain, but because I refused to see my own pain.

As the political atmosphere in the United States becomes more and more hostile towards minorities and towards immigrants I went into survival mode. (After all, I am an Afro-Peruvian undocumented immigrant.)

Survival mode meant I simply didn’t give myself the time to grieve, to feel the pain, as I saw my brothers and sisters choose someone who speaks so horribly of other human beings (to say the least.) I didn’t allow myself time to dream any more, because the heaviness of the uncertainty left me paralyzed in fear. Survival mode meant hardening my heart, so I couldn’t hear the sound of my breaking heart.

This is not who Jesus has called me to be! My Jesus has called me to love fiercely, to love without borders and to love without fear. I cannot do any of that if I choose to forget the parts in my heart that need healing.

When I shy away from the wounds in my heart, I am telling her she is not worth the effort or time. When I look away from the pain, I am telling my heart she is not fully loved. But how can I say that when Spirit is screaming from the rooftops and whispering in my ear all at once that He has not forgotten me?

I don’t have it all figured out. Every day I am learning to trust my heart again, to listen to her and talk to her. I am here to remind her that she is stunning. She is a reflection of the God of the universe and He is not withholding any good thing from her.

Heart, you will live. God has not forgotten you.


About Karla:

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Lover of laughter, the color yellow, sunflowers, the smell of fresh eucalyptus, single origin coffee and second breakfast. I’m an Afro-Peruvian gal with a traveling heart – currently residing in the Midwest. I’m overly excited about Jesus, reconciliation in the Church, living a life of joy in the midst of pain and listening to people’s stories. I’m an accidental storyteller. You can find me over at @dearkarla on Instagram sharing the shenanigans of my everyday life.