The idea of home is this giant oozing wound in my heart--I grew up in a happy, messy one, but I had this dream of my adult home as a place of constancy and security, and that was not meant to be. Instead, my heart has broken many times over having to leave a home, and here I am in that position again, knowing we have to leave and not knowing where we are going. I'd like to draw a beautiful conclusion to this comment and tomorrow I might have one but today all I can say is. . .I hate this.
This week, I left a job at an agency that I helped build, foster, and grow over many years. The heartache in leaving behind something that I cherished being a part of, but could no longer healthily serve well, is summed up so beautifully in your writing here.
I named the heartache I have been feeling as grief. This writing expanded on that for me when you wrote, "Love is the pit in my stomach the past week. It is not regret, it is just sadness for all the work that went into something that could not stay the same forever." It is exactly that.
Thank you for your words that offer truth that surpass the specifics of circumstance.
So beautifully written, so aching. I know this ache, this loss. In a lifetime of move after move after move, we bought our first house when pregnant with our first child, and poured so many memories into that 1923 structure! We sold it 6 years later to move overseas. I'll never forget the feeling of almost betrayal when, visiting our hometown 3 years after we sold it, I found so many changes to the outside. According to Zillow, they've made some inside changes we'd wanted to and talked about as well, but couldn't manage with littles. This was a long time ago now (that first baby is about to have his own first baby) but reading this brought it all back.
"Nothing we love stays the same forever. " As someone who has had to make many changes in my life (moves, church changes, shifts in my heart and beliefs), I understand this so well. I find that for what remains in my life, my love has to shift and change with the changes it faces. Beautifully written, Lore.
Lore, this is beautiful and needed. I pray you and Nate have a really rich and beautiful 10-year-anniversary trip. Congratulations and may God continue to bless your faithfulness to your ‘yes.’
Lore. I save your newsletters to read last so that I can savor them. And they never disappoint. Here's to a beautiful trip to mark 10 years. Thank you for this beauty that you have shared with us.
I’m still linked to our former home on a realtor website, and get updates for it. It recently went up for sale, a great deal more than we sold it for, and I looked at the pictures. It was completely redone. I could feel my heart breaking looking at the pictures, while also aware I had no right to that feeling. It hurts.
You’re words resonated as I study Ecclesiastes and the preacher says “Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 2:11 ESV
I’m still wrestling with the wisdom of that book. I spent the last 4 days toiling with putting new baseboards in the basement, after some water damage due to a sump pump failure. It needed to be done, but there will be no lasting love from those baseboards. As we talk about future plans to move from this home, the only home my children have known, there is such an attachment to this place we built our lives in.
Congratulations on 10 years, it is a great milestone, may you have a wonderful adventure celebrating!
This piece touched me, Lore. In more than 50 years of marriage, my husband I have sold two houses and two condos with mixed emotions. Those homes never looked better, or more lovable, than after we fluffed them to sell. They held a multitude of memories. I once returned to our first house when the purchaser put it on the market after raising two children there. They apologized for some changes they had made to “our” house, but change is what happens when you make a place your own.
Simply gorgeous. The word in David Whyte's new book "Consolations II" that has had me quite undone is "effervescent." Your writing here perfectly captures the effervescence of life. Thank you.
I've probably commented something similar before, but I "found" you right around when you got married. Your words on singleness were (and still are!) a balm to my (still) not-yet-married heart. And I have been so blessed by the opportunity to bear witness to the parts of your story that you honor us to see. Thanks for showing a glimpse into what love looks like and what it often costs.
I’m crying, to love a home so much is a vulnerable thing, even more so to share so transparently with all of us here on the interwebs. Thank you. Praying that the anniversary trip is a balm for your souls and restful in ways you haven’t been able to imagine.
I'm not married, but my closest friend of 25 years is moving three states away. The weight of this change and distance and winter and the current political landscape are all trying to bury me. Your writing is a consistent balm.
That is so hard. One of the reasons we moved here was to be closer to my closest friend. She is also unmarried and more and more I just want to grow old near her.
The idea of home is this giant oozing wound in my heart--I grew up in a happy, messy one, but I had this dream of my adult home as a place of constancy and security, and that was not meant to be. Instead, my heart has broken many times over having to leave a home, and here I am in that position again, knowing we have to leave and not knowing where we are going. I'd like to draw a beautiful conclusion to this comment and tomorrow I might have one but today all I can say is. . .I hate this.
This week, I left a job at an agency that I helped build, foster, and grow over many years. The heartache in leaving behind something that I cherished being a part of, but could no longer healthily serve well, is summed up so beautifully in your writing here.
I named the heartache I have been feeling as grief. This writing expanded on that for me when you wrote, "Love is the pit in my stomach the past week. It is not regret, it is just sadness for all the work that went into something that could not stay the same forever." It is exactly that.
Thank you for your words that offer truth that surpass the specifics of circumstance.
So beautifully written, so aching. I know this ache, this loss. In a lifetime of move after move after move, we bought our first house when pregnant with our first child, and poured so many memories into that 1923 structure! We sold it 6 years later to move overseas. I'll never forget the feeling of almost betrayal when, visiting our hometown 3 years after we sold it, I found so many changes to the outside. According to Zillow, they've made some inside changes we'd wanted to and talked about as well, but couldn't manage with littles. This was a long time ago now (that first baby is about to have his own first baby) but reading this brought it all back.
"Nothing we love stays the same forever. " As someone who has had to make many changes in my life (moves, church changes, shifts in my heart and beliefs), I understand this so well. I find that for what remains in my life, my love has to shift and change with the changes it faces. Beautifully written, Lore.
Lore, this is beautiful and needed. I pray you and Nate have a really rich and beautiful 10-year-anniversary trip. Congratulations and may God continue to bless your faithfulness to your ‘yes.’
Lore. I save your newsletters to read last so that I can savor them. And they never disappoint. Here's to a beautiful trip to mark 10 years. Thank you for this beauty that you have shared with us.
I’m still linked to our former home on a realtor website, and get updates for it. It recently went up for sale, a great deal more than we sold it for, and I looked at the pictures. It was completely redone. I could feel my heart breaking looking at the pictures, while also aware I had no right to that feeling. It hurts.
You’re words resonated as I study Ecclesiastes and the preacher says “Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 2:11 ESV
I’m still wrestling with the wisdom of that book. I spent the last 4 days toiling with putting new baseboards in the basement, after some water damage due to a sump pump failure. It needed to be done, but there will be no lasting love from those baseboards. As we talk about future plans to move from this home, the only home my children have known, there is such an attachment to this place we built our lives in.
Congratulations on 10 years, it is a great milestone, may you have a wonderful adventure celebrating!
This piece touched me, Lore. In more than 50 years of marriage, my husband I have sold two houses and two condos with mixed emotions. Those homes never looked better, or more lovable, than after we fluffed them to sell. They held a multitude of memories. I once returned to our first house when the purchaser put it on the market after raising two children there. They apologized for some changes they had made to “our” house, but change is what happens when you make a place your own.
No words. Just sitting down in the middle of all of this for awhile and feeling the feels. Love to you, Lore.
Mmmm. Thank you friend.
Simply gorgeous. The word in David Whyte's new book "Consolations II" that has had me quite undone is "effervescent." Your writing here perfectly captures the effervescence of life. Thank you.
I am reading his book on work right now and I'm so grateful for the ways he gives words to the things of life. Thank you for reading mine, Kelly.
10 years is no small thing. I hope you can celebrate the miracle of it with your whole beings.
Thank you! I receive that!
Goodness. Thank you for all this.
Thank you for reading, friend.
Exactly what I felt. Pure gratitude. 🙏
Thank you, Kelly =)
I've probably commented something similar before, but I "found" you right around when you got married. Your words on singleness were (and still are!) a balm to my (still) not-yet-married heart. And I have been so blessed by the opportunity to bear witness to the parts of your story that you honor us to see. Thanks for showing a glimpse into what love looks like and what it often costs.
I appreciate you. <3
Thank you for being here =)
I’m crying, to love a home so much is a vulnerable thing, even more so to share so transparently with all of us here on the interwebs. Thank you. Praying that the anniversary trip is a balm for your souls and restful in ways you haven’t been able to imagine.
Thank you!
I'm not married, but my closest friend of 25 years is moving three states away. The weight of this change and distance and winter and the current political landscape are all trying to bury me. Your writing is a consistent balm.
That is so hard. One of the reasons we moved here was to be closer to my closest friend. She is also unmarried and more and more I just want to grow old near her.
That's lovely. Thank you for sharing that. I'm sure she appreciates that beyond words.
Praying for you to feel the nearness of Jesus in this weighty time. <3 You are loved, Sara!