When we tell God that we’re going to give Him our heart, we need to consider how honest we’re being. Are we saying that we are surrendering all of our heart or are we just giving Him what we think He wants? We think, “OK God you can have my heart, but let me just hold on to this piece right here”. We think we can hold on to it because as long as God has most of our heart we should be ok. However with God, it needs to be all or nothing. 
Today I listened as one of the speakers mentioned an artist that makes beautiful masterpieces out of broken objects and trash. When he said this, my focus was not on the trash that is in my life, but on the the pieces of my life I had not surrendered. When I tell God to mend the pieces of my heart because it’s so broken, yet I keep a piece to myself what does that do? Maybe I keep it because its just TOO messed up, or I am ashamed of that piece, or I feel its not worthy of restoration. Whatever reason, I hold on to it. I refuse to turn it over, thinking I’m doing the right thing. 
The artist is able to do beautiful work with all the pieces he has, yet sometimes there’s something missing. God has done all He can with what we’ve given Him, yet for us it’s not enough. There’s something still missing. We wonder why we haven’t changed, why we still carry that burden or feeling within us. 
When the artist adds that last brush stroke, that last dab of paint, glitter, or whatever medium they are using, the masterpiece is complete. Before that it was still beautiful, but it wasn’t completed. 
What pieces of your life are you holding back from God? What words have been left unspoken? Ask yourself, Have I given Him everything? Am I just giving Him a part of me? Are there any missing pieces that I have shoved to the uttermost parts of myself? Why am I unable to surrender it all? 



Somewhere there’s a broken heart waiting to be mended.
Somewhere there are tears waiting to be shed
Waiting for the gentle hand to wipe them away.
Waiting for the hero to save the day

In this world there is someone whose life has fallen to pieces
They watch it fall like rain drops hitting the floor.
Their life shattered
The pieces floating away.
Who will help me now
Who will be my salvation?


There’s a payer in my heart that only He can hear
A prayer for those who inhabit this world
A prayer for those whom I hold so dear
A prayer that will soon be told

There’s a prayer in my heart that longs to burst forth
A prayer that will be said with all sincerity
A prayer that will cross over the highest mountains
A prayer so delicate it will be carried on the wings of angels

There’s a prayer in my heart that weighs heavy on my soul
a prayer that can bring peace to my spirit
A prayer that I have carried for far too long
A payer that i hope one day I can share

But until then it remains a prayer that only He can hear

My HERstory

I entitled this my Herstory because for a couple of weeks now I have been constantly thinking about the life of my grandmothers. I was lucky to have grown up with 4 of my grandmothers, 2 of which are still living. 3 on my mom’s side and one on my dad’s side. I credit them for helping mold the woman I am today. Granted my parents had a HUGE role in that as well, but my grandmas all came in at a close 2nd.

Each grandmother loved me the way a grandmother should. Each one spoiled/spoils me the way grandmothers should. Each of them have their own way of being creative, 2 crochet, one sews, one did crafts (and I do all of the above!!). Yet each one is so different. Out of the 4, 3 were single mothers, yet all 4 endured years of hardships and sacrifices to maintain their households. Each one has given me tid bits of wisdom that I will cherish always.

My Abuelita Maria was a stubborn woman, one who lived life to the fullest. She enjoyed jokes and family. She was a healer. I remember people coming into her home to get healed through massages. People would say she worked miracles. I remember she would always do her best to comfort the hurting, I believe that I got the desire to help those who hurt from her.

Then there’s my Abuelita Juanita. She was as independent as they come. Always pushing limits and overcoming barriers. She never let anyone tell her she couldn’t do something. She might have been small in stature, but I don’t doubt that she would stand toe to toe with any man out there. From her I got the desire to reach for the stars, to not let people’s opinions and judgments hold me back.

My Abuelita Chole is a soft spoken, loving, caring, gentle hearted person. Just don’t get her mad!! She works as a house wife to my grandpa, and if you knew my grandpa you would definitely agree that he’s a full time job. lol She taught me the importance of family. What it was like to serve and be served. She was always the last to sit down at meals, and always the first one to get and heat up more tortillas.

My Abuelita Toña is a velo wearing, bible quoting, don’t talk mess about my God, Apostolic praying grandma! She loves the Lord like no one else. Her desire to see her family saved is something I share with her. She has taught me so much about loving God and serving Him whole heartedly though criticisms and struggles. She has taught me faith and the importance of prayer.

I am so thankful that God allowed me to have 4 awesome mentors and role models in my life. I value each of the lessons they taught me. My grandmothers will always be a part of me where ever I go.