Jennifer in Luxembourg

 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...