You only limit yourself by the limits you place upon yourself.
Have you ever tried looking through a glass cup? Isn’t it difficult to make out a full picture of what you are attempting to see? I believe every moment in life is as if looking through a glass—we may not know what the future holds. To take it a step further, sometimes, we become blinded by our present struggles.
As a 14-year-old, when my father was deported, I saw my future through a glass. When I was walking down a back alley after my cousin’s boyfriend kicked me out as a 15-year-old, I saw my future through a glass. In retrospect, I now realize those were only momentary setbacks. I recently told a friend, “The more difficult the road, the greater the reward.” I truly believe that. My life has been full of challenges, and there have been plenty of times I was ready to quit. To be honest, there are days I still feel as if I am ready to give up, but I know that my decisions today will affect me tomorrow. What I do today will determine my future.
I grew up undocumented in the United States. My parents took me to Dallas, TX when I was five years old. My father was deported when I was 14, and a few months following, my mother had to return to Mexico. Since then, I grew up on my own, and I had to learn how to survive. For several years, I struggled with my identity. I was born in Mexico, but I grew up in the United States. I felt as if I did not have a home. I thought if I returned to Mexico, I would not fit in, but if I stayed in the United States, I felt unwanted. I’ve had plenty of ambivalent moments. People told me it would be impossible to become a citizen in my situation. Had I taken heed to their words, I would have given up hope. I walked through years of fear—fear of being deported to a land I had not fully known. Yet, I also feared I would not be wanted in the land where I had lived nearly my whole life. Even though the opposition was fierce, I kept moving forward. You only limit yourself by the limits you place upon yourself.
People say, “the sky is the limit,” but I counter that with, “there are galaxies of opportunities out there.” Though it was difficult in my situation, I was fortunate to apply for a residency card in 2016. Four years later, on January 6, 2020, I had the privilege to take a ceremonial oath to become a United States citizen. This was a dream of mine for a very long time. This was the dream of my parents since they brought me to this country as a child. I cannot say I have made it this far on my own. There have been various people who walked beside me to lift me when I could no longer go on. It was a surreal moment. It was like a dream as a matter of fact, but a dream that was meant to be lived out. This is not the end of the road for me, but it is the beginning of greater things to come. I count myself blessed and fortunate to have walked the road I am on. The broken road has led me to unspeakable blessings.
I have become a citizen of the United States, but, before then, I learned I was a citizen of Heaven. I came to know the Lord at the age of 18. My heart, my mind, and everything changed about me then. I lost myself, and, in Him, I gained my identity. God has been gracious to me throughout my life, and I live to share that grace with others. I hope that my life inspires and brings hope to the lowly, contrite, and brokenhearted.
Coming from an undocumented background, being left without my parents, and living in survival mode was not an easy task. However, I was able to stand on the shoulders of giants, and I was fortunate to see beyond my circumstances. Had the Lord not intervened, I would not be here today. I am a U.S. Citizen; yet, I am an immigrant. I have come to learn the Lord is not a respecter of men. He loves the stranger as much as He loves the native.
12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
1 Corinthians 13:12 (KJV)
