Faith | FFH

So This Is What It Feels Like

4 CommentsFebruary 14, 2012

Tension

Winter has finally decided to visit Nashville and all of the ladies in the bakery this morning are in their long coats and sweaters. The cold moved in on Friday and we might even get a dusting of snow tonight. That’ll send everyone into a tizzy and schools will probably close for tomorrow even before a single flake falls from the sky. That’s how they do it around here. We missed the only other week of real winter chill back in January when we escaped to Florida for a friends wedding. These are the days when Jennifer and I ask ourselves why, with a job that would permit us to live just about anywhere, we still live in a place where it gets cold? I have some friends who live for this weather, getting bundled up and all. I don’t get it.

It was a busy weekend of music for us. We played four services at our church on Saturday and Sunday and then were the musical guests at a conference here in town last night. The kids were with us most for most of the weekend and it wore them out. They were on the front row of the auditorium last night at the conference, and when the lights went down between songs you could see the glow of their faces being lit by the screens of our phones. They used to sit up front and actually watch the concerts. They are over it now. If we don’t bring a helper to sit with them we just give them our phones to play on while we’re playing. It’s a cheap babysitter, but it doesn’t feel quite right.

There aren’t many people in the bakery this morning so it’s easy to overhear the conversation of the three people at an adjacent table. They are having what seems to be an important meeting about the construction of their new home. One of them must be the contractor because they’ve got blueprints spread out on the table and the other two are peppering him with a lot of specific questions. They’re picking color combinations and brick styles and trying to decide whether they should go with the Cedar Shake or not. If I had more nerve I’d walk over and tell them that it really doesn’t matter. I’d tell them how Jennifer and I have twice built a house and gone through the process of picking faucets and switch plates and all of the other stuff you have to make yourself care about when you are building a house, and how after they’re in the house they’ll go back to not caring. I’m not going to go tell them that because I don’t want them to follow me over to the studio and watch me argue with another musician about whether we should use a flute sample or an oboe sample on the chorus of the song we are recording. The contractor would probably tell me that it was those kind of petty decisions that led him to give up his dream of music and go into something more stable, like construction.

New technology gives us so many more options, but I’m not convinced that options are always good. For example, if those people building the house only had two choices for their hardwood stain it wouldn’t take four hours at the flooring store to pick a color. And if we didn’t have the option of several thousand instrument samples on a hard drive we’d actually have to hire a real flute player to come in and play the part, and that would be so much more musical. And if I our kids didn’t have our phones to play on we’d have to insist that they pay attention to the show, or at least draw or do something “real”.

I think all this new technology that’s designed to make my life better is actually complicating it exponentially. For example, since our time in Africa I’ve been trying to make space for an after-lunch nap whenever possible. I feel better when I get that nap, which makes sense when you consider that most cultures dating back to antiquity have practiced some sort of afternoon siesta. American scientists are now “discovering” that naps are good for us. My Pa Paw naps almost every day after lunch. He’s pushing eighty, and with the exception of the down times he’s had due to his hip replacements (which my Ma Maw often calls place-re-hip-ments), he’s been pretty healthy for as long as I can remember. He was raised Amish though, and Amish people understand simple rest. Anyway, now that I’ve got a smart-phone, I feel like I have to clean out my inbox, return all of my texts, and answer my voicemails before I can relax enough to take a nap. By the time I’m through with all of that my nap is history, unless I just ignore it, in which case I’ll be returning the emails when I’m getting in bed. My Pa Paw always says, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” It’s pretty much all small stuff, but since everyone is sweating it, I feel like I’m going to get too far behind if I don’t keep up.

Jennifer is feeling the tension too. She’s told me several times in the past couple days that she’s ready to chuck it all and move to the middle of nowhere, to just drop out. It’s not going to happen though, because it’s not what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to make it work inside the tension of the System. The Kingdom of Heaven and the System of this world are happening simultaneously, and the tension between the two is mounting. I’d be surprised to find someone who’d say that their smart-phone is helping them cope with that tension, but to communicate in the modern world you have to have the modern tools.

My friend Adam was playing guitar with us at church this past weekend, and when this subject came up at coffee between services, he told us about the tradition of Shabbat that he and his family have been observing every Friday. It’s pretty simple really; they just make a special supper and then for the rest of the night unplug and turn off all of their phones, computers, video games, etc. He said at first they hated it. Now they love it.

In the Bible, Jeremiah talks about standing at a crossroads and choosing the Ancient Paths. When I first read this versed I imagined a-once-in-a-lifetime crossroads, where I had to choose the path I would follow for a long time, if not forever. There may be a context for that, but I’m beginning to think that these crossroads come much more often. Maybe even several times a day, like stop signs through a neighborhood. Each time we come to one we’re given the choice between the Ancient tested sacred path that leads to rest, and the lesser path that leads to striving. I think we get confused a lot and choose the wrong path, but that pretty soon God sends us another crossroads so we can choose again and realign. Does that make sense? It does to me, but I’m still sorting it out in my mind.

I’ve included a song at the end of this message that I wrote standing in front of one of the more poignant crossroads in my travels. Faced with the reality of the options, I realized that I didn’t care nearly as much about the things I always thought were so important. I wish I’d had this kind of conviction in every decision since then, but some days the Kingdom choices are harder to make.

Have a peaceful week as you try to choose the Ancient Paths amidst this tension,
Jeromy
www.ffh.net

“Stand by the crossroads, and look, and ask for the Ancient Paths, where the good way is; and walk in it and find rest for your souls.” -Jer 6:16

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Email Jennifer or myself anytime at ffh@me.com.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Categories: BlogPosted Under: Faith, Tension@1:07 pm

So This Is What It Feels Like

3 CommentsJanuary 30, 2012

Walking

It’s a crisp morning here in our little town. I know because I walked here. The back window zipper on my Jeep has been broken for a while and I finally just dropped it off at the repair shop to have it replaced. The stray cat that’s been sleeping in the back seat at night will be disappointed, but I needed to have it repaired because these January thunderstorms have been soaking my interior. The upholstery shop is only a twenty-minute walk from town, and since I can always use the exercise, I walked.

The first restaurant that you come to when you cross over the bridge into Franklin is a French bakery called Marcia’s. It’s the only thing French about Franklin, and I’ve only been here once before, but it was another four blocks to Merridee’s, so I just decided to write from here for a while. It’s refreshingly non-southern. In a town full of meat-and-three’s and southern-fried-greasy-spoons, this is a nice change. A little bit of European sophistication right here in Mayberry.

When Jennifer and I and Hutch moved to Africa in 2006 we spent a few days in Paris on the way. Turns out that if you’re flight to Cape Town routs through Paris or Frankfurt you can extend your layover for several days with no additional charge, and then just proceed to Africa whenever you wish. We decided it was too good to pass up so we rented a car and tooled around Europe for a week. Paris was beautiful, but two days there was enough. The history of the city and the beauty are breathtaking, but it’s not nearly as romantic when you’re traveling with a three-year-old who’s got jet lag and can’t find anything to eat. Back then, Hutch always had a Hot Wheels Car in each hand and we were almost asked to leave the Museum De Orsey several times because he kept driving his cars down the ramps and isles of the gallery. Brugge, Belgium, was more kid-friendly, with bike riding and toyshops and chocolate parlors, but way too expensive for a normal family to stay for more than a couple days. Jennifer’s favorite stop of the week was Heidelberg, Germany. It’s only 90-minute drive south from Frankfurt, but it’s like entering a completely different era. There’s so much history there that it’s almost too much to absorb. The past comes alive when you are there, and if you like history like I do, it’s amazing. But it’s still Europe, and I can only take Europe in small doses, so this little taste of France right here in Franklin is good enough.

My table at Marcia’s this morning overlooks the Harpeth River, which borders Franklin to the north as it meanders around middle Tennessee. This spot has some pretty amazing history of it’s own. Just one hundred and fifty years ago this river ran red with the blood of 10,000 soldiers who were killed in one of the bloodiest battles in the Civil War. The Battle of Franklin was fought here on November 30, 1864 resulting in devastating losses to the men and the leadership of the Army of Tennessee—fourteen Confederate generals (six killed or mortally wounded, seven wounded, and one captured) and 55 regimental commanders were casualties. After its defeat in the subsequent Battle of Nashville, the Army of Tennessee retreated with barely half the men with which it had begun the short offensive, and was effectively destroyed as a fighting force for the remainder of the war. It was a pivotal point in the history of our country, and It happened right here where I sit drinking tea and listening to French music.

I’ve driven this stretch of road and crossed this seemingly insignificant bridge thousands of times over the past sixteen years, but this morning was the first time I ever crossed it on foot. I never took the time to think about what history, if any, lies in the waters below. But this morning I was able to discover it because I was walking, and walking requires more time, and time is what we need to in order to discover.

There a verse in the Bible that says “Be Still and Know that I AM God”. In Hebrew the word “know” means “to see, or ascertain”. So, in our amplified language, we could translate that verse, “Slow down, so you are able see and recognize the evidence of God, and His presence, in all things all around you.” We spend a lot of time asking God to come into our lives and our situations, to help us in our chaos, and there’s surely a place for that. But what if the answer to our prayers is less about God coming to us and more about us stopping long enough to discover Him, and in turn, re-discovering that He is here, and still very much in control? I believe this is the Ancient Path of Discovery that God is talking about in Jeremiah 6:16, and the path is becoming less and less traveled by our generation.

In my letter last week I briefly mentioned the battle with depression I’ve been fighting in my thirties, much of it due to MS. The song I sent talked a little about this as well, albeit indirectly, as well as the angst associated with waiting. Something I wrote must have struck a common nerve because response to the letter was unusually high. For the 36 hours following the post I was inundated with emails and comments from folks who are struggling with depression and anxiety and life struggles of some sort. I read all of them and was reminded again that we are all walking the path of brokenness in a world that has less and less time for suffering.

There’s a gift in brokenness though, and it comes in the way of time.

When we’re forced to sit, or wait, or walk, we’re given the opportunity to remain long enough to see God’s presence in it. Sometimes this “gift” is given to us by an illness or a layoff or a blown transmission, and other times it’s our choice. The opportunities to chose the slow “ancient” path are becoming fewer and farther between these day and so that’s why this morning, when the upholsterer asked if I’d like him to give me a ride back into town, I said, “That’s ok, I’ll walk.”

Even though it’s getting harder and harder to see, The Kingdom of Heaven is still at hand. The beauty and rest of Jesus and His realm is all around us, waiting to be discovered and rediscovered by those who take the time to slow down long enough for it to come into focus. I hope that happens for you today as you chose the ancient paths.

Keep walking,
Jeromy
www.ffh.net

“Stand at the crossroads and look;  ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.

Our church has been working on a series of recordings for our congregation. The songs are becoming the vocabulary of our worship times. This one, called “Always” is one of my favorites and I think applies to what we’ve been talking about on numerous levels. You’ll recognize me singing, but I didn’t write it, although I wish I had. For more information on the Fellowship Songs projects visit please www.fellowshipsongs.com. Enjoy!

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Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Categories: BlogPosted Under: Faith, Walking@7:59 pm

Meridee’s Monday

CommentJanuary 17, 2011

Good morning, Hutch and I hope this finds you well. We’re together at the bakery this morning. Jennifer let him come along with me to work on some home school lessons while I write. He’s promised me that if I let him play on the iPad for thirty minutes he will do his work afterwards without complaining. I’m not buying it. We decided to wear sweats and bedroom slippers this morning to be comfortable. It looks a little silly but there is strength in numbers. Hutch is a special little man in so many ways and I’m lucky to be his Daddy. He’s gloriously persistent, something he inherited from Jennifer. Her parents have told me stories of how Jennifer would beg them to do something so often and for so long that they would cave just to get her to stop. When Jennifer wanted to move to Oklahoma to be a cowgirl she asked them so often and so relentlessly that they actually considered it. Just now, when Hutch and I walked in the door, the smell of Merridee’s fresh baked cinnamon rolls filled Hutch’s nose and he immediately asked me for one. He’ll probably ask me thirty more times in the next fifteen minutes.

I meet with seven guys each Wednesday to talk and share our lives and pray. They are all artists and all about ten years younger than me. They would call me their mentor; I just consider them friends who are a few miles behind on the journey. Last week we began a book that guides us through a contemplative prayer time each day with a weekly Psalm and a few sacred readings. I told the guys last week that the contemplative life is probably what saved my faith through the event of the past five years and suggested that they try to establish a contemplative routine now that they can take with them wherever Yahweh leads. This weeks Psalm is PS 131…

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
My eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
Like a weaned child with its mother,
Like a weaned child is my soul within me
O Israel, hope in the Lord
From this time forth and forevermore.

How appropriate that the guys and I start this contemplative journey with a song about quieting our souls. As I read this I realize that much of life, most of life, is to high for me to comprehend. So much of what has happened to us has been a surprise. I didn’t see any of it coming, and if I had I would have probably avoided it. But I would have missed so much blessing, so much of God’s presence, so much of Jesus’ friendship. So today I try not to occupy myself with things to great and marvelous for me. I try to think about today, this morning, the next ten minutes, and enjoy it.

Gotta go buy a cinnamon roll. Take care,

Jeromy

Jeromy Deibler

Categories: BlogPosted Under: Faith, Mentoring, Meridee's Monday@12:33 pm

Meridee’s Monday

CommentAugust 23, 2010

Fifteen years ago this week Jennifer and I left our homes and packed what little we owned into our cars and drove to Nashville to move into our apartment. It was the beginning of our lives together as “us”, out on our own. Tomorrow we will again drive to Tennessee and move a car’s worth of stuff into an apartment. The “us” includes two kids and a dog this time, but in some ways this feels much the same is it did in 1995.

Our house in Franklin still sits vacant as we await our mold settlement process to begin. Our consumer advocate is telling us to plan on at least six months of limbo. Numbers with a lot of zeros are being tossed around and it makes me nervous. In a way this is even more unsettling than our move to Africa. When we moved there we had a plan. We knew where we would be and for how long and how much it would cost. This is different. I haven’t the foggiest idea where we will be in six months or how much, if any, money we will have left. It’s easier to live life one day at a time when you sort-a know what to expect from each day.

Some of you know how we feel cause you’re walking the same season right now. We’ve read your stories as they have come in and have been really blessed by them. Shortly flowing this blog post will come the first edition of TRAVELERS IRL (in real life). The concept is still in the development stage but we are genuinely excited about connecting people who have our music in common with one another to share their lives.

Jeromy Deibler (FFH)

Categories: BlogPosted Under: Faith, House, Meridee's Monday, Travels, Trust@11:39 am

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)

Categories: BlogPosted Under: Christian, Faith, Franklin, Tennessee@10:54 am