Skip to content

This Heavy Heart

July 30, 2010

This may get a little froggy as far as how it comes out but I’m going to leave it as is…

So I know you’ve all heard from Ingrid regarding this one last trip to her home in Connecticut to help her Ma clean out the house, do garage sales, prepare it to be sold and so many other little tasks that aren’t necessarily that hard, but seem to just have this sludge about them since they sort of all point toward that same crossroads of leaving this home and moving on; moving on for her Ma; moving on for us; moving on from so many wonderful memories there and some heart rippers that have taken place within the very same walls. I simply felt like I had to add my two cents in albeit not from nearly as much of a historical perspective as Ingrid but certainly one that I’m not really able to just ignore.

We’ve learned alot of lessons on this trip but all of that’s just rough as Ingrid and I get ready to pack up from her Ma’s beach cottage and head back to the house in a couple of hours. We’re gonna pack up the stuff we’ve set aside to take to our home in Missouri and then we’re going to leave. We may never again step foot in that house again and right now…I’m not really ok with that. I’m just not. I know why we’re doing it and as Ingrid and I have prayed through this decision with and without her Ma, we know that God’s counsel in this instance  is to let it go. And yet, I’m not ok with it. I love God; I’ll obey Him; I’ll worship and joy in His claim over my life and the lives of my sweet wife and my little kiddies. But I’m having a tough time choking this one down; more than I thought I would. I love that house. I know a house is not necessarily a home and all the other cliché phrases which are absolutely true. But I’ve got to be honest when I say that none of that consoles me a bit right now. The lump in my throat isn’t going away.

I’m grumpy. Ingrid’s grumpy. The kids know something is going on and I pray that they are good for their grandma while we go take care of these last little chores; cause it’s certainly not been easy for Ingrid’s Ma to say the least. She is an amazing woman.

During the years we’ve been married, I’ve noticed something about marriage that can’t be quantified or explained during marriage vows or during pre-marital counseling or any sort of counseling or through any other type of mental or heart preparation. When you get married and bind your soul to someone else. It doesn’t just come apart really easily. It doesn’t…because it’s not supposed to. That’s why whenever a marriage ends, for ANY reason, It wounds deeply. Again the cause makes no difference. I say all of that to get at the fact that I’m realizing more and more the soul ties that I have to Ingrid. The pain that I feel or have chosen to bear with her as a result of what she’s going through is something that comes with being married and I just wanted to say that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m going to miss the house where I first kissed my wife to be; the back yard that Ingrid and I would walk through together, past the stone wall and through the hayfield into the timberline below following a path to the cabin (and a very cool outhouse as well) that her Dad built and lived in as he constructed the main home over a period of years. I’ll miss her Dad’s workshop with old airplane parts, every tool known to man I’m certain and beautiful artwork…paintings…sculptures; the place where we prepared to go to funerals and weddings, had birthday parties and ate huge grinders from Terryville Avenue market; the house that was filled with family giving me the warmest welcome home party from a difficult war in Iraq. I love it there. And for the biggest reason that I’ve had trouble working in to this post simply because I don’t want to write it. I’m going to miss that house because it’s where I’ve learned most about Ingrid’s Dad; a man who I just never got to meet and who I love so very much. I would have loved to have gotten to meet him in this world just once. To have shaken his hand and told him that although I’d never be perfect, I’d fight for the heart of his youngest daughter all the days of my life. I can’t wait to meet him in heaven some day.

I’m officially sad now.Ingrid and I used to take road trips all over the place before we had kids. As we drive back across the country together to our home in Missouri, I’m inviting God to have dominion over this entire trip. To come and speak and heal our hearts. To bring us closer. We’ve got so much ahead of us that really excites us and I’m so grateful and feel so blessed because of the grace and mercy He showers on us every day.

But for now – Come, Lord Jesus, into this heavy heart of mine. Sit next to me. Guide me. Heal me. Heal her. Love on us.


6 Comments leave one →
  1. July 30, 2010 2:52 pm

    Beautifully written. Loving y’all’s blog. The last few posts have been sweet, sad, and terrific.

    • July 30, 2010 11:43 pm

      Thanks for those kind words, Brett. Really appreciate your comments friend! Blessings to you!

  2. July 30, 2010 3:12 pm

    I’ll have you know I’m BAWLING! I can’t stop…

    A wise friend once told me, “You have to be willing to accept when God tells you no.”

    I’m praying for you two: for the memories you get to keep in a place you have to leave behind, for the kids to know that mommy and papa need some time together, and that you two get that time to heal.

    Thanks again for showing me a REAL relationship.

    Love you guys.

    • July 30, 2010 11:45 pm

      WE love you Meg! Can’t wait to be home with you all! Thanks again for your prayers!


  1. Tweets that mention This Heavy Heart « Life with Jding --
  2. One Final Trip Home « Life with Jding

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: