Psalm 34:4.

I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all of my fears.

I'm sitting at the coffee shop I grew up in, the same shopping center that has been here since I was six years old--right next to my neighborhood. Not much has changed here. Shops have come and go but it has mostly stayed the same. There's the same book exchange, the same salon, the same drug store. Small changes have been made, but as a whole it is has stayed true to its moderately helpful if not sub-par shopping experience.

And as I sit here and think back on my own life, I feel the same. I have changed in many small ways, but I'm still the same girl who bought frapps and read magazines in the aisles of the Eckerd pharmacy. I have the same adventurous spirit that prompted me to turn the parking lot into a playground and the Fresh Market into a fascinating documentary on produce. I still walk here from my house, fully believing that the use of cars where bikes or feet are more than capable is a waste of life and money. I still engage my people watching skills, although in a much socially acceptable way (not as a spy who sneaks around and writes things down and creepily stalks peoples' eating habits....I was in a Harriet the Spy mode for awhile there).

I'm still me. But I'm more alive. I don't know exactly when it happened or how, but I am different than before. I am more whole. I am happier. Most of all, I am not afraid. There is still anxiety there--I think that is my natural tendency. But I'm not the nervous wreck I was before. I have become a fighter. I have seen a little bit of what I am capable of, and am hungry for more. I have seen and felt the Lord--his affection for me, his quiet confidence in the plans for my life, his joy at watching me succeed. And I have learned to trust him.

Thinking to last summer, I never could have imagined I would be where I am now. Suffering from some serious depression and anxiety, my view of myself and life as a whole was in the pits, literally. I felt fear and despair over everything. I didn't trust myself, I didn't trust my God, and I did not trust my emotions. I didn't know where life was headed, and I was terrified of the darkness that seemed to consume my waking hours. This year was an emotional and mental hell, and each day felt like a mountain with no summit. Eventually, I stopped expecting to find the top. I focused on my day-to-day, on what I could find joy and life in within the moment. It wasn't much. A cup of coffee, a phone call from a friend, a constant thankfulness for a steady job (though not exactly and easy one). And I made it through. Slowly. Painfully. With much doubt and a great deal of tears.

I stopped looking for answers. I stopped trying to figure out myself and the situations surrounding me. I stopped trying to avoid the pain and anger and sadness. I confronted myself. I confronted my emotions. I confronted the God who claimed to care about this world and the things going on in it. I couldn't see hope, and I couldn't fake it anymore.

The strange thing is, my acceptance of myself and the life that was happening around me ended up being my salvation. Instead of trying to make things work the way I wanted them to, I became aware that I may not always have the best solutions. I realized that things don't works in my timing not because God is mean, but because he is ultimately good and wise.

The most important thing I came to understand is that if there is one thing that God promises it is to be there in our emotions. While he often shows up in our circumstances, these are not the things he garentees. He comes through in his ability to instill confidence and hope, to offer peace when the world is crazy chaotic. He promises to lead us in truth--truth of who we are in him, truth of what his death really meant on the cross. He is hope, even when things are most desperate. And this hope--it is instilled in us. We are Christ--the hope of glory through Jesus. Do you know what that feels like, to know that his hope and glory are shining through you for the world to see? To know that no matter your faults, your failures, your weaknesses, that he can use you. He will use you, it is not in his nature to let you fall.

And that's how I have changed. I sought the Lord for two long years, and he answered me. Fully, without me bettering myself first. He delivered me from my fears and instilled a hope for a future. In the area that scared me most--my emotions--he brought incredible grace and truth. He propelled me to do things I would have never done before, he helped me in my fear.

I am going to grad school in the fall to be a counselor. Me, the queen of all fears. The one who is afraid of emotions, afraid of taking chances, and who fights for control. I have listened to the one who made me, and have decided to follow no matter the cost. I have decided to live.

And the King of Glory--he is going to bring hope. Through me, through you, if only we let him deliver us from our fears.

The queen of papusas.

I love food--I love Mexican food more. Perhaps someone who loves this food group more than I do is my beautifully diverse friend Kristen Frederick. Fortunately for both of us, we lived in Harrisonburg for the past five years (and more), where authentic and delicious latino food reigns supreme. You can find taco trucks nearly anywhere within this small town, and there is never a shortage of avocado, lime, or pico de gallo to be found.

The most unique dish I encountered in my time there was papusas. These are kind of hard to describe to those of us who have never had them--but I would say they are a mix between a pancake and hash brown. Kristen pretty much stumbled upon them one day and immediately convinced me they were a necessary food group....which was true for my taste buds but bad news for my stomach (an unfortunate reality of most mexican food out there). Either way, whenever I craved this or any other taco truck delicacy, I knew I could count on Kristen as a readily available and willing date. She was the queen of papusas, and continues to hold a spot in my heart as one of my very best friends.

However, Kristen's love of latino goes deeper than the comida described above. Her heart explodes for the many populations of people that represent this rich culture. She volunteers regularly for an after-school program that seeks to assist low-income, hispanic families in the community. She has traveled abroad to several spanish speaking countries, recently returning from four months of service to a women's shelter in Peru. She is both a friend and mentor to many of the women and children who live in the neighborhood behind her church, never hesitating to help in any way she can. It is not unusual to see her with a car full of kids on the way to some fun event that she had planned for them, or to find out that she had spent the day with someone who simply needed a ride to the doctor's office or hospital--she  is that gracious with her time.

Indeed, I am constantly amazed at the room in Kristen's heart for others. It seems like there is never a shortage of love for those that are most important to her, and even to those she barely knows. She has to be one of the most empathetic people that I have ever been around. In some of my darkest moments Kristen was there--not only to hold my hand but to cry with me. Her patience and endurance through the trials of life are an incredible blessing to those whose burdens are too heavy to carry alone. She takes on these hardships as her own, asking no questions and demanding no answers. She actively loves no matter what the situation. As Father Boyle (founder of Homeboy Ministries) puts it, she lets the pain of others have a purchase on her life. Her compassion passes no judgement and her arms open wide to those who suffer, offering a place of refuge and protection for the weary. She is the embodiment of a gentle spirit, and I am privileged to have witnessed her gifts first hand.

Kristen is also a Registered Nurse, and while I know the job can be less than gratifying at times, I have no doubt that she is excellent at what she does. Her hope is to eventually serve in those countries which have little or no health care, another example of her selflessness. I know that wherever she ends up she will continue to bring love and light to those around her, for these are natural aspects of who she is that cannot be stifled by her surroundings. Her dedication to caring for others physically, emotionally and spiritually are sure to transform the people she serves--no matter how long the process may take.

As I mentioned before, papusas are hard to describe because they are difficult to define in texture and in taste. They are a little bit of everything--meat, cheese, beans--and are prepared different ways depending on where you go. They are surprising. They are an experience--the truck, the smells, the people and the food. But they are always good. And the reina of papusas? She is the same. You don't know the gem that you have until you are with her and can understand her love for you. It is surprising, and it is an experience straight from the heart of Jesus. And while papusas come and go, this queen will rule the world with her goodness and kindness and extraordinary heart for years to come--and we will all be better off for it.