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Meridees Monday

CommentJuly 26, 2010

If you drive five miles west on BB Highway out of Hillsboro MO you will cross through the old Els farm. The property is nestled on the western slope of one of the many foothills in eastern Missouri, just south of St Louis about ten miles west of the Mississippi river. Jennifer’s grandpa, John Els, bought the entire three hundred and twenty acres when he and Pearl moved out from the city in the late 1930s. He built the farmhouse house and the barns with his own hands, brick by brick and board by board. Pearl gave birth to five boys, four of them at home on the farm. Jennifer’s Dad, Ken, is the middle of the five. He grew up on the farm, milking cows, keeping chickens, and mending fences. He remembers fondly the days of dirt floors and outhouses.
Over time, Grandpa John began to do less farming and more commercial construction. Ken’s oldest brother, Gene, who now owns much of the land on top of the hill, eventually took over Els Construction and developed and sub-divided some of the original homestead. When Ken graduated high school he joined the Navy. Upon his return home he went into construction as well. He soon married Kathy and a few years later he built his own house just up the hill from John and Pearl. That’s where Jennifer grew up and where we’ve spent most of this summer while our house is being repaired. From their back porch you can see the three story white barn, the old chicken houses, the cabin in the woods, and the hollowed out mobile homes John used to keep the antique Ford automobiles he restored after he retired. All of his tools, thousands of them, are still in his shop and Ken and the grandkids still put them to good use.
I never knew John and Pearl like I’d have liked to. I’ve heard of their adventures, many of them in a converted school bus that John gutted and turned into a hunting cabin on wheels. I’ve seen the pictures and the antlers that prove that the Els family life was anything but boring. (One picture in particular is of Ken standing inside of the ribcage of an Elk that he had killed and gutted on a hunting trip with his brothers)
When I met Jennifer’s grandparents in 1994, Parkinson’s disease had crippled Pearl, preventing her from doing much of what she was known for. She has mostly homebound by this time, but she was always up for a game of Kismet around the kitchen table if you had some time to stay and visit. John was still able to get around but he spent most of his time at home with Pearl. By 2003 both of them needed constant care and Ken and Kathy spent most of their time making sure his parents were safe and comfortable. Towards the end they started taking turns sleeping over so someone would be near if something unexpected were to happen the middle of the night. Ken has always been the most loyal of the boys and he and Kathy lived out this loyalty at great personal expense during those last few years.
Grandma Pearl was the first to go. At her memorial service in August of 2006 people shared things about her that even Jennifer didn’t know. Jennifer told me how she wished she’d have known those things. She’s got memories of Pearl but she didn’t know her like she wished she had. After Pearl died, John’s heart began to fail and he was resigned to spend days in a wheelchair staring out the window at the land he once cultivated, but his mind was still sharp and his attitude still intact. He spent many of those days sitting at his kitchen table eating and visiting with people who stopped by. The visits were loud. You had to nearly scream for him to be able to hear what you said. John kept a rifle by his chair so he could shoot rodents out the window. In 2007, about a year before his death, I challenged him to a shooting contest. We drew targets on paper plates and hung them on a fence across the yard. Then we sat inside and took turns trying to outshoot each other from the kitchen table. After a couple of minutes the targets were retrieved and the plates revealed that I’d won, but just barely. Grandpa called me a “smart ass” under his breath. I took it as a compliment. Despite his many visitors, John was lonely without Pearl. He died of congestive heart failure in April of 2008. He was more sentimental about Pearl in those last few years and never really forgave himself for some of the things he’d done early on in their marriage.

The Els boys have made an unmistakable mark on the community and the people with whom they lived and worked and played. Most of the folks I’ve met in the times I’ve spent here in Hillsboro have multiple stories about Ken and his dad and brothers. The longer I stay here the more I understand the deep family history of this place and that of the people who live here.

When I traveled to South Africa for a week and a half in March of 2006 I got a taste of African culture, I experienced it as a visitor. Then, that following October, we moved there and bought a car and rented a house. We unpacked and settled our family down for a while. We made friends and began a work and established a routine. Only then did we begin to live Africa, to become part of it’s history. That’s what we are experiencing here in Missouri, only this time it is unplanned and unexpected. It’s a bit strange to wake up day after day in the same house where Jennifer grew up and where she and her sisters spent their days playing and swimming and talking about boys. Jennifer’s mom is cooking meals for everyone just like she did back then and my kids are doing the things Jennifer did when she was little. History is repeating itself. The longer I’m here the more of that history I feel seeping into my being. This isn’t just a visit anymore. Friends and family have gone back to their normal lives and we are beginning to lock into the rhythm of this house. We’ve even made a couple of new friends and Jennifer has reconnected with some old ones. I’m resisting it a bit because I know it isn’t our home, it’s not our rhythm, and we’ll be breaking away soon enough, but it’s been nice in many ways to be part of something larger, something not so temporary.

If I get up early enough I like to sit at the kitchen table alone and read my bible and look through the sliding glass door that proves a view-from-above of the farm and the barn and the garden that I helped plant this spring. Vegetables are popping up everywhere, the tomato plants are yielding buckets of fruit everyday, the trellis that supports the bean vines is buckling under the weight, and the sunflowers at the south end of the garden are over ten feet tall. Across the valley through the cedar trees I can see the top of Jennifer’s sister’s house, about a five-minute walk from here. She and her husband Cameron bought the property from Grandpa John about ten years ago and build the house by hand. At the base of the valley where the creek divides the property is the old milkhouse. Jennifer’s dad converted the milkhouse when Jennifer was a kid so she had a place to board her ponies and horses. As a teenager, Jennifer spent most of her free time in the pasture adjacent to the milk house riding horses. Her most trusted companion was a quarter horse named Merchant. We went down to the milkhouse the other day and Jennifer told me how the stalls still smell like they did then. I can tell she misses those quiet days. She mourns the innocence lost with growing up.

In an odd way, Jennifer and her Dad have a uniquely similar childhood, one that was filled with quiet and animals and dirt. Whenever Jennifer daydreams about her “perfect place” it is a wide-open space with animals and land and a huge family table piled high with fresh organic produce and homegrown vegetables. She loves the sounds of cicadas in the cedar trees and screen doors clapping shut and kids playing in the yard. I wonder why God took Jennifer from this place, one of such relaxed solitude, and put her into a life that doesn’t have so many of the things she has always loved and longed for.

This morning I didn’t get out of bed until 6:45. Hutch was already awake and playing with his birthday toys. I sat in what has become my usual chair overlooking the farm and tried to read and pray while he and Iron Man battled under my feet. My prayer book’s theme for this week is “communion” and included in the selected readings is an excerpt from Henry Nouwen’s “The Life of The Beloved”. In the opening section Nouwen writes, “I would like to talk a little about how to live the life of the beloved. There are four words that I want to use, words that come from the gospels, words that are used in the story of the multiplication of bread, words that are used at the Last Supper, words that are used at Emmaus, and words that are used constantly when the community of faith comes together. Those words are: He took, He blessed, He broke, and He gave.”

Nouwen goes on to explain that all of us who choose to follow Jesus walk with Him in the perpetual process of being taken, blessed, broken, and given. As I look back on the past few years I can see how Jesus has taken me out of situations at times when I lest expect it and how he has been leading me into brokenness and blessing me with experiences that are changing me and somehow blessing others. None of it is my doing or a result of anything good I’ve done. I’m just bread. (Today I’m grumpy tired bread) I’m sure it was God’s best for Jennifer to be taken from her home as well, but when we’re here I can’t help but wonder how.

I wonder what in the world God is up to with us. Why did He choose to have us leave our home at this time, just as we were finally settling down? We were so excited to be in Franklin this summer, to be “Normal”. Why were we taken now? What is it he wants me to learn here? Last week I wrote about God’s “Grace in the Wilderness”, and I’m no less aware or appreciative God’s blessing but I’ve got more questions. My heart is not settled. I feel that our story, my story, is getting buried in someone else’s. That’s the breaking that I can’t find reason for. And I can’t help but be a little nervous about where the giving is going to take place. The last time a major change like this happened in our family we ended up in South Africa and I ended up with MS and Jennifer ended up pregnant. All of it has been God’s best and we’re so much better off now than we were then. I wouldn’t trade the past five years for anything, but I’m still “me of little faith” and I get nervous when I can’t see what’s coming.

I’m looking forward to heading back to Franklin later this week to lead worship at Fellowship and do some songwriting with some friends. I’m also going to spend some time looking for temporary housing for us to live in while our house is being restored. I can’t help but feel a small twitch that tells me we may never move back into that house. It may just be a fleeting notion, I get those a lot. I remember when Jennifer and I were dating being sure that I was going to die before we got married. So I’ve learned to not pay too much attention to the whims of my heart, but still, something is going on. Something is being put to rest, being allowed to wither and die, and something new is coming to life. I’ve been inspired while I’ve been here in Missouri. Inspired to write, to read, to get dirty, and to get off of some of my medicine. But I grieve not having my own space, and time alone with Jennifer and the kids, and my sleep number bed. I miss my Jeep and Merridee’s, and I’m tired of wearing the same clothes over and over again. I’m growing weary of being a visitor.

Even as I sit here complaining I’m reminded of my own words to audiences this year. I’ve been urging people to follow God into the unknown, telling them not to be afraid to go wherever Yahweh leads them, even if it seems extreme. I’ve been imploring people to go “away” with God, to be still, to be quiet, to be “different”. I guess if that’s going to be my message than I’ve got to be that guy: The traveler. The sojourner. Like John the Baptist, who lived his life in the wilderness. I’ve been telling people how great the wilderness is because Jesus is there and He is uniquely close to us when we go there with Him. Why should I be surprised that Jesus is again taking us through the unknown? Maybe our experience will become bread that will be given to others through this. I guess I just need to own it, to settle into it, to realize that this is our story, our adventure, unique to us. That this is who we are and who we are going to be, for now anyway.

Jennifer keeps her books on the floor beside the bed. (She’s right-handed and sleeps on the right, I’m left-handed and sleep on the left. We tried to switch once. It lasted one night.) This morning I noticed she’s reading a book about “The Valley”. She must be feeling the same way I do. We’ve been together a lot but not really alone for long enough to talk about deep stuff. I’m sure being here for this length of time is stirring up feelings and emotions in her heart that have been asleep under the surface for a while. Plus, her Dad, (we all call him Pop Pop now) isn’t doing well. The inflammatory disease that he’s battling is causing blood flow to his legs to be stifled. His legs are getting weak and he’s walking less and sleeping more. This has to be on Jennifer’s mind. Plus, Pop Pop has been a lot more sentimental lately, which lets us know that he’s probably feeling worse than he even lets on. We’re all hopeful that this is just a temporary relapse and not a sign of things to come.

Jennifer doesn’t complain that I don’t have a plan past next week. She’s never really pressured me to have the long-term figured out. I’m so thankful for that. This morning she recognized that I was in a rough spot and has giving me all day to think and process things. This is how we live now: day to day, hour to hour. Our counselor told us to try to live in the moment, to think about the next ten minutes. It’s hard, especially when the system we live in tells us that we need to have our ducks in a row. Sometimes Jennifer and me talk about this and she reminds me that there’s not a retirement plan anywhere in the Bible. She’s right. She usually is. Don’t tell her I said that.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Family@5:41 pm

Meridee’s Monday

2 CommentsJuly 19, 2010

Grace In The Wilderness

We’ve now been at Jennifer’s family farm in Missouri for almost a month. We are still not able to go home because we’re waiting on results from the specialist as to the extent and severity of the mold in our house. It’s been hard on our family and an unexpected stress for Jennifer’s parents. Jennifer’s sister, Jannell, has been here as well with her two kids (3yrs and 8 weeks) while her husband is out on a three-week tour with another artist. It’s ten people in a house built for five. Jennifer’s Mom takes it upon herself to cook huge unnecessary meals for everyone, which seems to keep her moving more than she needs to and Jennifer’s Dad is still battling health issues and all of this excitement seems to be extra taxing on his body.

Jennifer and I didn’t expect to be here nearly this long and we only have a couple of suitcases full of clothes for all four of us so we’ve been buying things we would normally have brought with us. We’re pooling our money for groceries and trying to respect each other’s privacy. There’s no Internet access at the house so I have to drive into town to do anything productive. Furthermore, since we are staying in St Louis we’ve had to fly to most of our concerts because they’ve been too far away to drive. Flying has made it harder to take the kids with us, which is something we have committed to do whenever it is at all possible. The emotional strain of leaving the kids is something that we’ve not been faced with since we returned to FFH, and it’s brought back lots of unwelcomed emotions from several years ago.

Hutch turns seven years old this Wednesday and he won’t have his usual “buddies” at his party. He may not have a party at all. In less than three weeks the boys in the neighborhood will go back to school and Hutch will have missed out on a lot of bike and scooter time with his friends at home. Sadie has been sleeping in a pack-and-play next to Hutch’s bed and they keep each other up at night and wake each other up in the mornings. Plus, we have the stupid dog to think about.

HOWEVER.

Because of our extended stay here the kids have had a chance to spend time with their Mimi and Pop Pop and their cousins that they wouldn’t have been able to if we’d been permitted to go home, and Jennifer and her sisters have been have had the chance to be together at their home for the first time in years. There’s a pool here so Hutch has become part fish and Sadie-Claire is now jumping into the water with floaties on and no one to catch her. Pop Pop still isn’t feeling completely healthy but he’s been well enough this summer to work with the kids in his shop building toy robots out of scrap metal and wood and piddling around with tools and such. This is something we’ve wanted for Hutch for a long time.

This morning just after breakfast Hutch asked me to go outside and throw Frisbee with him. Normally I’d already be heading out to write songs or on the computer working, but since there’s no Internet access at the farm and no co-writers within three hundred miles, I was physically and emotionally available to just play.

We’ve hated leaving the kids to go perform and miss them dearly when we’re gone, but the times away have given Jennifer and me chances to talk, and there’s much to discuss right now. We’ve really enjoyed the hours together and we’ve even seen a couple of movies while we are out. Our availability to audiences before and after concerts has been greater as well because we don’t have to hurry back to the hotel to put the kids to bed. This has been refreshing.

Back in May, when we were here for a visit, we helped to plant the garden. Vegetables are popping up like crazy now. Everyday buckets of fresh squash and tomatoes are brought in and we eat them for supper. Jennifer has always wanted to learn how to plant and cultivate a garden and this summer she’s getting hands-on experience. Meals are mayhem but we’re all eating most of them together, like families used to do it. We go through about forty paper plates everyday. Pop Pop takes them to a burn pile so his dumpster doesn’t overflow.

It’s a pain to go to McDonalds to work but I’m thankful to have a job where I can connect to people through the Internet. Our booking agency and publicist are in Nashville, our radio promoter is in OK City, our road manager is in Tulsa, and our band guys are traveling in other parts of the country when we are not together. We usually connect like this anyways and I’m realizing how blessed I am to have a job that doesn’t require an office. Plus, Brian Smith, my longest and closest friend lives down the street from me in Franklin and has been checking the mailbox and sending me the important stuff. It’s nice to have a friend you trust enough to go through your mail.

Another blessing about being “stuck” here… A friend of Jennifer’s is going to get Hutch and I some tickets to a Cardinal’s game at the new Busch Stadium. The Phillies are in town this week and it will be Hutch’s first Major League Game, perfect for his birthday. A few years ago Nashville decided they’d rather have an NHL Team than a MLB franchise so we don’t ever get to see baseball games. Plus, I think given the choice, Hutch would rather be here with his cousin Elias for his birthday than at home with his street buddies. Transformers and Iron Man action figures adjust to any environment so they will help make the party better.

Mimi and Pop Pop like the dog more than they’d admit. He’s allowed in the house, which is shocking to Jennifer who was never allowed to have indoor pets when she was a kid.

Jeremiah 31 speaks of God’s people who find Grace in the Wilderness. Another translation of the same verse says that they find Favor in the Desert. In Jeremiah 31:2, the words “Wilderness” and “Desert” come from the Hebrew word “Midbar”. Strong’s concordance explains that Midbar’s meaning denotes a “driving out”. Like sheep or cattle that are driven to pasture.

God is driving us all into some great wilderness. The unknown is uncertain, inconvenient, and at many times scary. But He who drives us is also with us, and where He is will be favor, grace and rest, even where we’d least expect it.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Meridee's Monday@2:53 pm

Merridee’s Monday

4 CommentsJuly 12, 2010

Oh how I wish I were sitting at the bakery this morning. I miss Merridee’s, and the smell of cinnamon rolls, and the people behind the counter who know my name. This is the third week in a row that I’m writing from McDonald’s in Hillsboro, MO. The smell of Egg McMuffins and Hash-Pucks is not nearly as inviting. We should get are first results from the extensive mold testing that was done in our house later on this week. Hopefully that will provide us with some insight into the severity of the mold in our house and give us some idea of when we might be able to go home.

The kids are having a great time at the farm and being able to stay here for these few weeks is a blessing, but it’s still a strain. We’ve put our lives on indefinite hold. All of our plans for this summer have been thwarted. We know that God is good and He knows the future and there’s a reason He didn’t stop this from happening. We know that this will ultimately work out for our best and God’s best and our family’s best. Nevertheless, we are a little depressed about the whole thing. It’s all quite unsettling, especially the waiting for results we have no control over.

Last night before bed Jennifer did a timeline of what our lives have been like since the fall of 2005. There’s been joy, hope, sorrow, suffering, birth, death, peace, and pain, and a move to Africa and back. Through it all we’ve only been permitted to see just a few feet in front of us on the path. God completely shut the blinds to the distant view. It’s been hard but good. And I know this time away from our home will prove to be the same. I just don’t get it right now. We seemed to be in such a good groove at home. I seem to so easily forget that this journey with Jesus is a path through the wilderness and a good groove isn’t always best. Jennifer and I pray for God to take our family on an adventure. We ask him to not let us get stuck in “normal”. We have to believe this is part of the answer.

Hope your week is an adventure too –
Peace and rest,
Jeromy

Jeromy Deibler

Category: Posted Under: Life, Meridee's Monday, Reflection@11:15 am

Meridee’s Monday

5 CommentsJuly 6, 2010

You may or may not have caught my posting on Facebook this week asking for help with some mold questions. I was a little nondescript in the posting because we weren’t exactly sure what we were dealing with. We know a little more now. I’d like to share it with you and then tell you what this past weekend was like. To bring you up to speed, here is an email I sent to some of my church friends at the end of last week describing what is going on with our home…

For the past several years Jennifer and I have been patching and re-patching an annoying roof leak around our chimney. During the flood things got really messy and bucketfuls of water leaked into our bonus room. We were away at the time and our AC was off. When yet another contractor opened it up to find the source of the leak he discovered mold. When the mold “specialist” came to remove it last week he took a sample to have it tested. Turns out it’s a very toxic strain of black mold called Stachybotrys. It’s nasty stuff, causing all kinds of health problems with prolonged exposure.

Three nationally recognized and trusted mold experts told Jennifer and I yesterday that we CAN NOT go back home until the entire house is tested and every room containing traces of the mold is cleaned with a bio agent. Anything in that room will have to be either thrown away or bio-cleaned, whatever that means. Best-Case Scenario: it’s all contained in the bonus room and we can move back in as soon as the things from the bonus room are either throw away or deemed safe and the rest of the house is proven to be mold free. (The furniture and kids toys are being thrown away today) Worst-Case Scenario: The mold has traveled through the HVAC and has infected the whole house in which case we lose most everything. Chances are we will land somewhere between the two extremes. Either way, we can’t go home until we get the process going which Jennifer is beginning today with a Consumer Advocate mold specialist in Atlanta. He will be coming up to Franklin to head up the project.

Right now we are in St Louis at Jennifer’s family farm. This was a planned visit. I’m driving back down to Nashville tomorrow to get Fritz and lead worship at Fellowship for the weekend. I’ll stay at Brian and Jannell’s and will likely drive back up here and we will commute to our shows and to Nashville from St Louis at least for the next three weeks. Our Consumer Advocate told us that as soon as the house is assessed and tests are completed and results come back we will know the next step. It may mean renting a place in Nashville for a couple of months while we get this all sorted.

WISDOM is what we are asking you to pray for us to receive. WISDOM and PATIENCE to walk in step with Jesus as he opens and closes doors for us, and to not get ahead of ourselves but take it an hour at a time, reminding ourselves that “it’s just a house”, we’re safe, kids are healthy, etc.

Thanks for listening and thanks for caring.

The ten or so people I sent to message to were kind and generous in their responses, several offering their homes to me for the weekend while I traveled back to Franklin to lead worship. I was able to stay at Jennifer’s sisters place but the additional invitations were nice nonetheless.

It was strange to come home and not be able to really go home. Our mold adviser strongly discouraged us from even entering the house briefly so I just stopped over to get the dog and a few things from the garage and left. Fritz had been being let out by a friend for about a week and was so happy to see me that he peed. He and I went over to Jannell and Brian’s and got settled and then went to Merridee’s for a salad and then up Main Street to Starbucks.

Under normal circumstances this would be a night I’d look forward to, even if I were by myself. I was at my favorite bakery, having my favorite sandwich, walking to my coffee shop having my favorite drink. (Grande – Decaf – Mocha – Frappachino Light – With Extra Ice – In a Venti Cup – With Whip) But it wasn’t fun at all. It was depressing. I saw some friends and walked the other way. The whole weekend was like this. Same town, same car, same dog, but no Jennifer, no kids, no house. Everything was turned on it’s head. I know it’s “just a house” but it’s what happens there that is special. It’s where our life happens and I felt like an outsider not being able to go back.

The only time I felt normal all weekend was at Fellowship. The Body of Jesus really is a family and I felt at home when I was there. I only know a handful of people at Fellowship really well. Most are loose acquaintances and lots more I’ve never even met. None of that mattered. I was with family, I could tell in my spirit, and it felt good. Again God used something hard to show me something new.

Have a restful week. If you have any black mold experience we’d definitely appreciate hearing about it. Be safe –

Jeromy

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Church, Family, Friends, House, Kids, Mold, Travel@9:59 am

Meridee’s Monday

11 CommentsJune 28, 2010

Jennifer and I might not ever forget this weekend. No one died or got sick or went to jail, but it was so strange enough none-the-less that I think we’ll remember it for a long time.

A few months ago our booking agent sent me over a concert request for an event in Lufkin TX to be held this past Saturday. I skimmed over the details and felt like it was something we should accept so I sent back an approval. A few weeks later Jennifer got a Facebook message from Robbie Seay (of Robbie Seay Band) saying that we’d be playing together in Lufkin. We’d played an event with Robbie not long before and were looking forward to seeing him again. He told us to check out the event’s website. Turn’s out that the event in Lufkin was to be a three-day event with rides, tractors, concerts, and a truck pull on the final day. “Pulling For Jesus” was the event’s official name.

Jennifer and I we’re planning a visit to her family’s farm in St Louis in June so we decided to drive up there and leave Hutch and Sadie-Claire with her parents while we flew down to Lufkin. We almost always take our kids with us but something about this one made me feel like it would be harder on them than it needed to be. On Friday evening Jennifer and I arrived in Houston and on Saturday we drove the two hours up to Lufkin to meet the rest of the band and play the concert.

We could tell immediately when we arrived that things weren’t going well. There were maybe four cars in the Fair Grounds parking lot and there seemed to be nobody enjoying the festivities anywhere. The 5000 seat arena was empty. Only two or three people we’re milling around the display tractors. During our soundcheck the concert promoter introduced himself to me and I asked him how things we going. He admitted right away that the event had already been, in his words, a “flop”. The day before drew in only a handful of people and the bands played to no one. Today was not much different and his spirit was visibly crushed. We went to a restaurant for supper and got back about an hour before our show was to begin. During Robbie Seay’s performance we counted 119 people in the stands, and at least half of them left during the break between his set an ours. So at 9pm we took the stage to play to a completely empty 5000 seat arena. 30 people ended up coming down to the floor to be closer. It was one of the hardest and most confusing concerts we’ve ever played.

I’ve been on tour for most of my adult life. I’ve been involved in many shows that have gone south but never like this. I didn’t ask the promoter what did or didn’t happen during his preparation. It was more merciful to just be as little bother to him as we could. He was visibly confused and defeated and we all hoped as we left that Sunday would be much better for him, but reports came back that it was just the same.

Why on earth did God allow us to leave our kids, fly hundreds of miles, and drive five hours, just to play music to an empty arena? Why did He watch this promoter put His heart and soul (and bank account) into a city-wide event to promote the Gospel that He knew nobody was going to show up at? None of it makes any sense.

We all have strange and awful days at work, but you have to admit, this is extreme, especially for this poor promoter has to pick up the pieces and move on. I hurt for him. If you think of us this week can you say a prayer for P.T. in Lufkin? He could use it, to be sure.

Peace and rest,
See you on Facebook,

Jeromy

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Hardship, Promoters, Shows, Struggle@1:01 pm

Merridee’s Monday (Thursday Edition)

4 CommentsJune 17, 2010

Jennifer turned 29 again this week. We celebrated by getting a sitter and spending the day relaxing and talking. It’s amazing how after fifteen years together we still have things to talk about. On a whim Jennifer suggested we find out what Cheekwood is. Turns out it’s the beautiful gardens and mansion of the Cheek family who entrusted their family estate to the city of Nashville to be converted into an art gallery and museum. We’d seen signs for Cheekwood since we moved here in 1995 but never thought to check it out. Now we’re members and, as it turns out, share a love of art and learning about it. It feels so adult to stand and stare at a painting for a couple of minutes trying to figure out what in the heck you are looking at. I’m at a bit of a handicap being colorblind, but enjoy it anyways.

While we were walking the gardens a new friend called to see if we could get together for dinner. He and his wife met us at Amerigo, where Jennifer and I have been going for special dates since we moved here, and we talked for three hours. It was an unexpected blessing, but the most special blessings usually are.

I love that about God. He sees to what we need beforehand. He gives us just what we need when we need it. Yahweh-Jareh , the Lord who “sees (to it)”. Jennifer’s birthday was special not because of what I planned, but because of what I didn’t plan. There was space and God filled it with great stuff. New stuff. New life.

One of my favorite lines from any movie is Jack Nicolson’s epiphany about his feelings for Helen Hunt at the end of “As Good As It Gets”. In a moment of clarity he says, “You are everything I never knew I always wanted.” That’s how God’s plan is; better than we can think to ask for.

Have a peaceful week,
Jeromy

PS. Jennifer says thanks for the Birthday wishes!
PSS. She is three years older than me again, till August 19th.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Birthday, Dates, Gods Plan, Jennifer@9:25 pm

E-Camp Kids

CommentJune 9, 2010

Today was day three of E-Camp (Exalt Camp). Jennifer and I have been helping with the camp all week. Jennifer’s been spending all day there volunteering and helping with Hip-Hop dance. She was born to dance. (Unfortunately she has to do most of her dancing in our foyer with our kids.) I’ve been coming to camp for afternoon breakouts to help teach Psalm writing and Song writing to 7-12ish year olds. In each session there is a lesson and then some quiet time to journal. Then we all share what we wrote and we try to write a worship song from our collective thoughts and prayers. This week has been eye opening for me. I’ve definitely underestimated the mature and original heartfelt thoughts and prayers that kids have.

Today our lesson was on metaphors and similes. One of the girls (probably 9ish) shared this from her journal regarding her hurts and her friends…

“My heart is burning from the flaming swords and arrows that are being hurled at me and the “Fire of Nine Tails”.

She offered to go on but we stopped there to discuss it a bit. Another boy, earlier in the week said…

“God is better than a huge piece of sweet crunchy nougat.”

I’ve been surprised and humbled at how innocently honest the kids are willing to be and a bit embarrassed that I’m not always that way. These kids aren’t old enough to wear masks or fig leafs or whatever we think hides our shame. Only shameless innocence will allow a “tough” 8-year-old boy to describe God as a beautiful Blue Jay, or another to descried his current life as a giant Rubik’s Cube that is impossible to solve.

The spirit is deep water, no matter how old we are. Actually, maybe it’s deeper water when we are kids and over time, without knowing it, our spirit water gets shallower. Gosh I hope not. Maybe we just don’t know how to go to the bottom anymore.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Exalt Camp, Metaphors, Middle School@10:54 pm

Meridee’s Monday

5 CommentsJune 7, 2010

Merridee’s Monday
(Starbucks this morning, for the umbrellas)

Franklin is such an anomaly. At any given day, at any time of day, you can walk into a Starbucks (the Christian bar) and find at least one person, usually more, reading their Bible. The guy that served me my decaf-Americano -w/ whip asked me how my weekend was and I told him it was good but I’m tired from four services at Church. He completely understood and we talked about his church for a while. The guy behind me is having his quiet time and the guy next to us is talking about his preaching.

Surely Nashville is the heart that pumps the “red” through the arteries of this very red state. It’s something to be proud of for sure. This is a great community to raise kids and with so many mission minded church here, millions are going to missions every week. But there’s also something to be weary of as well. It is so culturally correct to be a conservative evangelical here that we risk wielding a very dull sword when it comes to battle. Jennifer and I often envy Christians who live in parts of the country where following Jesus is not the norm because we know we would have to be much sharper and aware of our environment if we lived there. Franklin isn’t heaven, or utopia, but you do have to look to find non-Christians.

I’m not sure why exactly this is on my mind this morning but it would be interesting to hear your thoughts. I’ll be on my computer for a while if you want to chime in. At about eleven I have to head to church to help with kids camp. On my way there I’ll stop at Chik-fil-A, where they will be playing worship music on the in-store music system, and I’ll get a Christian Diet Coke.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: Christian, Faith, Franklin, Tennessee@10:54 am

The iTunes Talk – With Jason Ingram

9 CommentsJune 6, 2010

Jason Ingram giving his two-cents on the iTunes discussion. What do you think? Selling out or being smart if we put the single on iTunes? Thanks for the comments.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Category: Posted Under: iTunes, Jason Ingram, Singles@11:47 am