Jennifer in Luxembourg

Every night this week, as I've climbed into my bed in my empty house alone, I’ve been reminded and felt the love here in Luxembourg. This particular love is in the shape of a tabletop humidifier. It’s the loaned gift of a colleague- friend who heard my cough as she drove me to our satellite office, and promptly declared it a dry cough. A few mornings later, I found her arranging the device on my desk, setting it to my favorite color, and turning it on to release the therapeutic vapors in my office. She poured the essential oils she'd brought from home: the one that said for ease of breathing and seemed most applicable honestly. I dutifully carried it home.  Love looks like the friend who carried my dishes from dinner all the way to my house, despite the pouring rain. An has continued to walk me all the way home recently, always being sure to offer help to carry my heavy bags.  Love looks like the friend who made me dinner at my own home last night. And came over to help ...

 I sit in my living room, the clicking of the keys the loudest noise right now. It's been a full week. Thursday was the Psalms and Sisters, young women's group, with about 16 women filling my living room. Friday was unofficial "Friday dinner" with 16 young adults filling said living room, the last ones peeling off only around 2AM. Saturday was scheduled rest day, but included a phone call with my dear Boston friend, a walk around the city centre with a dear Lux friend, and ended with tea at my Lux best friend's apartment. Sunday has included church, lunch out with the young adults, tea + cake at my house this afternoon for the group, and a simple dinner for the last remaining girl.  This is not unlike a lot of other weekends here. My house is often filled, and I'm glad for that. It can be exhausting, for sure, but my heart is so full. I'm doing what I believe I have been called to do, and I'm living in that strength.  Last night, I scrolled on my phone...

At my desk, since I moved to Luxembourg, hangs a pink index-card sized post it. There are only 4 letters: C, N, L, H. And long strings of numbers after. The coordinators of four different locations: Cleveland (where I came from), Norwood (where I was), Luxembourg (where I was going), and the coordinates of a colleague and friend’s home, which is always open to me. I looked at it more often when I first moved here, but now it remains more as a comforting blanket I know is hanging on the wall. There were a lot of unknowns when I was given that pink post it, and a lot of thoughts if I’d ever have that home always welcome to me here. I do have it. I know I have the homes of many colleagues across Europe, and many friends in Luxembourg open to me. But none more apparent than the invitation to the parent’s homes of one of my colleagues and now closest friends. I was intrigued when she first invited me to her parents for the holidays and break. And the more I mulled it over, the more I reme...

It’s bitterly cold, as I click-click my way on the promenade. All around me, I hear the staccato beats of everyone’s boots clicking away. I fit in with the throng of people rushing along La Defense- long dark coat, thick scarf, bag/backpack, and clicking boots. My eyes have full make-up and my lips hold a deep purple tint. I’m feeling quite pleased with myself this morning, as my phone remains securely in my pocket; unneeded for directions to my destination. I left my house at 420 AM, dressed to the nines, to board a train for Paris. As we zoomed through the dark French countryside, I had my breakfast of a delectable huit pastry and created a presentation for the morning. Exiting the train, I could just see the scraps of light peeping out over Gare d’Est in Paris. I was proud to remember the two metro lines that would get me to the RER trains that would take me to the office. I connected at one of the biggest stations in Europe, and all my Parisian experiences surged through my body as...

It's after 1AM, and my feet have the ache of standing for way too long. I'm sitting at my dining table, the cloth still bearing  small stains reminiscent of the dinner had here just a few hours ago. The cozy racoon  and fox tablecloth adorns the foldable plastic table, borrowed from friends, to my right.  There is a stillness in this room now, that just a few hours ago was filled with cheerful chatter, so late into the evening the neighbors knocked on the door.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I relapsed on Christmas Eve, so Thanksgiving feels the only untouched holiday. I appreciate the non-commercialization of it, and the moment simply of gratitude.  From my first class I taught, which was entirely European, I realized that their perception of Thanksgiving was entirely from movies. But many are excited to experience what this American holiday is all about. And so last year I hosted my first Thanksgiving away from my family. And now, my second, bring...

I’m sitting at my desk, the air mattress deflating to my left. The house is quiet, save for the clack of my keyboard. My body is TIRED. It’s been a full two days. But amazing. I picked M up from the train station yesterday morning, and dropped her back this afternoon. Two-ish days here in Lux. Two days that she took vacation time for. Two days that she fought to pay for meals and snacks. M was part of the Academy. We didn’t work a ton together, as her role had her in a different building than me. But as my time was coming to a close, we ended up first at a Jonas Brothers concert, and then on a few projects, working more closely together. And found out our birthdays was a literal day apart. As kind as she was, the pinnacle was when she shared her office birthday celebrations, on her actual birthday, with me, whose birthday was the next day. As my time in Boston drew to an end, we got to interact much more, and I was sorry to move away from such an incredible human. So I wasn’t overl...