“Faith Carried Us When Fear Could’ve Won”

When you marry someone from another country, you don’t just share a life—you share a battle. We had to prove our love to strangers. To people who wouldn't know what it was like to walk in our shoes.  We spent years proving our love to people who didn’t know us. To offices that saw us as a case number. To systems that asked for more and more, while we gave everything we had—time, money, energy, and hope. who didn’t know our story, didn’t see our tears, who never walked in our shoes. We spent years proving our love to people who didn’t know us. To a system that saw us as a case number. To a system that asked for more and more, while we gave everything we had—time, money, energy, and hope.  Also, while still raising children and having full time jobs. It took years. Years of proving our marriage was real. Years of gathering documents, filing papers with immigration, waiting for waiver to get approved to show then he was a normal human who worked to support our family like any other person. It took paying a fee for the waivers and paying a fee with a lawyer for each step. It also took a lot of sacrifice and putting our dreams on hold because even though we knew God was with us, we still faced the fear of not knowing what could happen. 

In those years thankfully with the support of my husband I was able to pursue some of my dreams like going back to school. I always pushed myself harder and harder and he always had my back and supported the choices I made. Most people tell me they didn't know how I did it, I made it look easy, but it was harder than ever.  People who’ve never had to fight for their right to stay together don’t understand. They’ve never had to explain their love to strangers. They’ve never had to prove that their marriage wasn’t just a transaction. They’ve never had to live with the fear that one letter in the mail could change everything. Better yet one wrong thing done can forever change your life. And still we kept going, because we knew what our hearts felt regardless. More so because we had a family to support and to fight for.  God doesn’t ask us to be understood by everyone—He asks us to be faithful.  It wasn’t just hard—it was exhausting. We waited through delays.  Especially when COVID hit it pushed everything back. We gathered documents, photos, bills, letters—anything to show that our marriage wasn’t just a piece of paper. And still, it felt like we were being asked to prove our hearts. And through it all, we tried to protect our children. We didn’t want them to carry the weight of immigration. We didn’t want them to feel like their family was “different.” We kept our routines the same. They didn’t know what it meant to wait for a decision that could change everything. They didn’t know the fear behind everything that was going on.  They didn’t know how many nights we whispered prayers, asking God to make a way for our family. But that’s okay. Because we didn’t fight for paperwork we fought for peace. We fought for a life where our children could grow up feeling safe, loved, and a simple normal life. 

When it came time for the actual Interview of course we had to travel to his country which was Mexico, a place he had not been there for 15 years. It wasn’t just a formality—it was a test of everything we’d built. We had to travel to another country for the interview. Just me and him. No children. No comfort. No guarantees. Leaving our kids behind was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done and the first time ever being away from them. We told them it was a short trip. We smiled and packed like it was normal. But inside, I was terrified. Because the truth was—only one of us might come back, but I held on to faith and hope. We didn't know what to expect when we got there, but we did everything we were told until the real interview. We left behind our jobs, our routines, our lives—for weeks. We carried every document, every photo, every piece of proof we could find. But what we couldn’t carry was the fear. That stayed with us. The way my husband explained the interview itself was cold. They asked questions that felt personal, invasive, even insulting.  He got someone who was not very nice. When it was his turn to go in, he had to go alone, I was not allowed inside the interview.  They asked him question that he had to answer without thinking. Like about me and the children. the days we were born and things like that. When and where we got married.  I had to stand outside alone as well. Thankfully you meet some nice people to talk to while waiting to try to forget about the fear in that moment that your life can change.  To its just another case but to us our marriage wasn’t just something to be approved. It was our foundation. Our children’s future. Our fight for peace.

When we finally returned home—together—it felt like a miracle. Not because the government said yes, but because God carried us through what felt impossible. People think the process is so easy but it's so hard.  It takes so long and still not over even when you done the right thing. People think once you get the green card, the struggle is over.  But that’s not always true.  With everything that is going on in the world Even green card holders—people who’ve followed every rule—are being questioned, detained, and threatened with deportation. Being legal doesn’t always mean being safe. They don’t see your family. They don’t care that your children don’t understand what immigration even means. So, we stay quiet. We stay careful. We teach our kids to be proud of who they are. Being Hispanic shouldn’t come with fear. But in this climate, it sometimes does. Our children carry questions they shouldn’t have to ask. But one thing I always want my children to know is that you are no different than other human. You are a person. You are someone with a story, a soul, and a strength that politics can’t measure. Let the world say what it wants. Let politics play their games. But in your home, in your heart, in your faith you are someone. And no one can take that away. But you are someone. Not because of your papers. Not because of your paycheck. Not because of your skin tone or your accent. You are someone because God made you with purpose. Being Hispanic is not a weakness—it’s a gift. It’s culture. It’s strength. It’s family. Its Strength passed down through generations who survived, who prayed, who built something from nothing.

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household.” No matter your background, your culture, or your immigration status—you are home in God’s family. Ephesians 2:19