Ode to the BrokenHearted by Carolina Hinojosa-Cisneros

Ode to the BrokenHearted by Carolina Hinojosa-Cisneros

Ode to the BrokenHearted by Carolina Hinojosa-Cisneros

There is a longing for quiet in the bones where the raw of my trespasses welcomes the tender healing – the eventual – the intentional light. I drop to my knees in gratitude and surrender. Hope pecks at my spirit, burrowing a new home within me.

 

I am recognized. I am known by Jesus.

 

The world places my heart on a tightrope above canyons of wonder. Light pierces through the side of my betrayal. I long for my Savior – His promising life sustains the beat that wants to stop mid-tempo over these broken heart strings.

 

Dear Jesus, hear me. Mend my heart in the raw places. Draw from me a well of life to share with this village of kindred spirits. Breath fresh reservoirs of beauty where the rivers have dried from neglect. Trickle through the arroyos carved in this arid desert body.

 

Only you can say “life” and it will and is so.

 

 

Great I AM, see me on my knees. Take this ache and rusted prayer in petition to The Creator.

Make a new home in my spirit. Crumple this boulder of heartache with the soothing words on your tongue.

 

Immanuel.

 

 

 

 

Yahweh, talk into me. Speak outside of the abstract. Use the language of my mother tongue. I want to understand, cradle in my arms the language of your spirit pulling at my cleaved heart.

Raise my Lazarus heart with chambers broken in places never meant for humanity to pry.

 

Eres una fuerte corriente – You are a strong current. You fill me with forgiveness before shalom.

Blessed peacemaker of my heart.

 

Where we are broken, God fills with holy earth. With presence and kingdom. The cup of grace is never empty and always pure for drinking. Do you believe you are unworthy, friend? Don’t mistake the verbiage of mankind and even tribe when they paint onto your being the words unworthy, unwanted, untouchable. Like the bleeding woman touched the hem of the frock and was filled with a current of healing, you too are healed.

 

Lift the broken pieces of your heart and surrender them like a stain glassed window after a rock was lunged through. Let Jesus craft a mosaic of glass for onlookers to take in your beauty. Or let him melt the pieces down to dye colored dust as he paints a mural on South Flores street for the passerby to stand in awe in the radiant colors and drop to her knees to say, “me too.”

 

There is no piece of your broken heart God will not use, and glory be. We fear the desert as barren land but when we are from the land we see the desert as alive as God intended. Prickly pear, the desert’s canteen of water, erases the mirage of lies revealing the quenched spirit from our chests.

 

God’s answer to loneliness is me, the extra rib.

When I feel alone, betrayed, and discarded, God answers with the beat in my chest. I am alive.

He’ll take the broken and unspoken to weave into harmony a new life for me and for you. Amen.

 

 

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Written by

Carolina Hinojosa-Cisneros is a San Antonio, Texas native. She is a Christian writer who recognizes her Latinidad and misfitness in that realm. She is an advocate of religious freedom and marginalized people. Her blog is Cisneros Café, a gathering place to find the soul grace to redefine our creative center by way of faith, social justice, and books. Her work has appeared in The Acentos Review, Zouch Magazine, The Lookout Magazine, Mudroom, Amity Coalition, Sagebrush Review and more. You can find her tweeting at @CisnerosCafe and blogging at CisnerosCafe.org.

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