As a seventeen-year-old, I sat in a U.S. Customs office in Houston, Texas — my future hanging in the balance as I awaited the Border Patrol’s decision about whether I could stay in the United States. The uncertainty of the situation made me question my future and how I would move forward if forced to leave.

Living undocumented in the U.S. as a teenager was not something I would talk about or even acknowledge at the time. After all, I was a teenager still trying to process much more than my legal status. My mother’s abandonment in Canada a few years prior was still a fresh wound, and I was sorting out feelings of rejection while trying to find answers to questions like, “Why wasn’t I enough for her to stay?” My Abue (short for “Abuela” which means grandmother in Spanish) had moved in with us to help my father raise me and my brother. After a few years, my father eventually moved us back to the U.S., where he ultimately left us, too.

I spent my high school years living with Abue in Little Rock, Arkansas, and though times were tough in many ways, that didn’t matter to me because this was my family; this was all I had.

“You are being deported back to Guatemala today; say your goodbyes as we arrange for your return home to Guatemala,” the Customs Agent said. Abue fell to her knees and prayed for a miracle as soon as she understood what was said. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t reason with the agent to change his mind. While my Abue prayed amid heartbreak, my brother and I started saying our goodbyes. It was there, in our greatest defeat, that God stepped in. Almost immediately, another agent took me to a separate room to question me about my Canadian passport. After answering many more of their questions, the agent sent me back to the waiting room. Abue’s prayers in Spanish could still be heard, asking for a miracle and God’s will to be done.

When the agent returned, she informed me that due to my Canadian passport and citizenship, they would allow me 36 hours to leave the country, a voluntary withdrawal, to return to Canada with the possibility of reentering the U.S. in ten years. I was no longer facing deportation to Guatemala. Abue jumped off the floor, hands in the air, praising the Lord when she heard the new plan. “Solo Dios pudo hacer este milagro” (only God could do this miracle), she proclaimed in Spanish. God had answered her prayer most unconventionally. Three days later, I was boarding a plane bound for Toronto — alone.

When I share this part of my story, I think most struggle with finding the miracle and God’s goodness. And if I am completely honest, I did for many years too. I had a lot of questions for God. How was allowing me to be separated from the only family I knew a miracle? How was it good to allow a child to go to another country with no parents, no money, and no real direction for the future?

The truth is that neither Abue nor I had a plan or even the slightest idea of what still was ahead, but Abue knew that our circumstances didn’t define God’s goodness, and because of her faith, I knew He was good too.

During a recent visit to Abue’s, I came to the realization that God’s divine protection, grace, and perfect plan were present in the rejection I faced when I was forced to leave the U.S. many years ago. He was also present in the rejection by both my mother and father. Though these experiences were heartbreaking, He gifted me a story through them. I can now share about God’s love and redeeming power with others, praying they will also come to believe in Him. Despite the hardships I faced along the way, I have realized that those challenges were personal invitations from God to seek refuge in Him. As it says in Psalms,

“Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.”
Psalm 34:8 NIV

Today, I want to encourage you that no matter how impossible your situation may seem, this moment, right now, is your opportunity to seek refuge in your Heavenly Father. It’s the Lord’s personal invitation for you to “taste and see” His goodness through eyes of faith and believe with your heart that your circumstances don’t define His goodness; rather, His goodness is His character.

Remember, God is always there in your darkest hour, working miracles and making a way for you. He promises you hope and a bright future as He authors your story.

Your miracle is in the making.