Final Night in Compiegne

I shouldn't have worn mascara today for two reasons. One, it rained ALL day between tiny glorious bouts of golden sun and I was on my bike for a majority of it. My feet are still wet. Two, I cried a lot very randomly but not really until after 7pm.

One of my friends tells me I am very dramatic and perhaps this evening showcases this. After dinner at the L'Arche foyer (house) L'Isba along with Natacha who I invited, I biked over to my church gardens for a silent moment and tears I wasn't expecting. Next, I met Xue out front and gave her a Watchman Nee guide to the Christian life, prayed for her, and left her with an image of God's love for her that I pray he works into her heart. Lastly I returned my bike to my neighbor Vincent, but not before taking 20 or so minutes just to ride around. As I turned up a street to head toward the apartments, I about lost it crying so circled back around and just putzed down the street until I could get my act together. I left him with bike lock keys and a copy of the book of John, a further aid in responding to a great question he posed last week at lunch--"If someone says they are 'croyant' [believing] what does that mean? What distinguishes them from others?" Hello open door. So I shared about Jesus, the chasm between the messed up inhabitants of this world and God, the grace, love, and joy and selflessness that should be present at the heart of every disciple of Jesus' actions. I thought John would be a great follow up, as Vincent is working on a book and seems to be a reader. He was touched by the gesture and asked if I signed it. "Yes," I said. "Bon, a souvenir of Jennifer." :)

Then I left him and turned down the street I take everyday on my way to Le Moulin or Madame Bataille's and again felt helplessly tearful as I walked toward Valerie's, where I've stayed on and off since moving out of my place. I told Jesus I needed him to do this because I am not up for it--my last night in Compiegne. I just stood at one point on the sidewalk crying, willing myself to go toward the door out of which I will exit tomorrow to leave this beloved place and people.

It's very difficult to imagine that in 24-48 hours time I will be in Texas, and that I won't be coming back here for a bit. Whoops, shouldn't have written that down. Started tears...

Today has felt surreal quite often and I find myself glancing over my shoulder constantly to remember. Hugging Natacha goodbye was difficult and we just stood there for a moment looking out over the street, neither willing to part.

I still occasionally think, I could stay. Maybe I just won't take the flight after all. I know in the end I am called to be faithful elsewhere in the season to come. But I keep saying aloud, "Mais je n'ai pas envie." [I don't want to.]

So I will see some of you tomorrow, others this week, a lot on Sunday, some in the weeks and two months to come. And forgive me if at times I might look lost or confused, teary-eyed and off somewhere else. I will try hard to be present to the moment...but perhaps the souvenirs of other moments will also be pressing on me, calling me into prayer, listening to God's voice, and recalling a people and persons that I inexplicably love.