So This Is What It Feels Like

2 CommentsNovember 29, 2011

I’m at Cracker Barrel this morning.  The other worship leaders from Fellowship and I meet here every Tuesday at 730am to talk about life and Church.  I’m an hour early this morning to write and have a couple minutes alone.  The coffee is good here and the fire is cozy and Willie Nelson is singing Jingle Bells.  The kids begged me to turn on football last night at about seven o’clock and it wasn’t on yet so we ended up watching America’s Funniest Home Videos. I fell asleep about halfway through the show and never really woke up after that, so at five-thirty this morning I was wide-awake.  While I was in the bathroom taking the handful of pills I take for MS and the related symptoms, Sadie-Claire came in fully dressed in her ballet outfit ready for a recital.  I put her in bed with Jennifer and showered and left.  

I’m tired from the drive home yesterday from St. Louis, where we spent the Thanksgiving weekend at Jennifer’s family farm.  Our DVD player in the car stopped working so we had to talk to each the whole seven hours. Jennifer’s whole family was at the farm for the Holiday and it was a nice time, except for Sadie’s few injuries. She and her cousin Joshua collided while dancing around the shopping mall on Friday morning, busting her lip.  Then, later that same afternoon, she and Joshua were playing baseball with a stick and a pretty big rock and she was hit in the face by the first pitch on the same lip. It was pretty swollen for a while.  This all happened while Jennifer and her two sisters were out finding Black Fridays sales. This is them picking out hats…

While I was sleeping last evening, Jennifer was busy on her laptop trying to find the perfect advent calendars for Hutch and Sadie.  I’ve been pushing hard for us to celebrate the whole Advent Season this month instead of just focusing on Christmas morning.  The dictionary definition of Advent is “the arrival of something awaited (especially of something momentous)”.  We’re trying our best this year to remember and celebrate the longing the Jews had for their most-awaited Messiah and his arrival.  I want us to join in that some longing in some way.  

When I was young I didn’t long for Jesus to come back at all.  There was too much life to be lived and my sketchy images of Heaven didn’t seem very appealing.  I remember older people talking about how they wished for Jesus to come back and not understanding the hurry.  I wanted Him to wait at least until Jennifer and I were married and we’d had sex.  Then, after we were married, I wanted Him to hold off till we’d had kids.  Now, at thirty-seven, I think I’m beginning to understand.  The realization that life is broken, I am broken, has settled in and has produced the flicker of longing for the suffering to end.  So this is what that feels like.

Our friends, Jon and Alli, who you probably know from our concerts (Big Jon is our guitar player), emailed again last night with more hard news.  After loosing Alli’s dad a few weeks ago to a sudden heart attack, they had to say goodbye to Alli’s aunt yesterday.  It was her dad’s only sibling.  The hole in their family this holiday season will be even bigger than they thought, especially with the absence of the baby they lost a year ago.  They understand the longing.  

Jesus probably won’t come back to make everything right in the world between now and December 25th.  He’ll can still come to us though, each of us, as we stop long enough to see our brokenness and long for Him to enter it.  He may not fix the brokenness the way we’d ask Him to, but He can give us something else in the middle of it while we wait.  It’s both now and not yet.  

We celebrate the now but not yet during the Advent.  Jesus came to us, He comes to us, and He’s going to come again to us.  

Peace and Rest,
Jeromy

Ps.  I’m going to be sending you a few emails over the next few days about ways to get the free music I want to give you.  Like I told you a while ago, I’m not going to use this blog to sell you stuff.  This is no-strings-attached.   

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So This Is What It Feels Like

3 CommentsNovember 18, 2011

My Sadie-Claire turned four years old this week. She wanted to have a dance party and Jennifer threw her one that she will always remember. I left the house at four o-clock that afternoon to take Sadie out to get her nails painted and kill time so Jennifer could set up, and when we got back home an hour later the house had become a dance club. Purple streamers and balloons were hung everywhere and twinkling lights refracting off the disco ball circled the room in soft bubble shapes of blue. Sadie was impressed. Later she told us that it was exactly what she wanted.
The kids all danced and beat each other up with balloons until it was time for pizza, then more dancing, then cake and presents. A little later Sadie did something that she’d never done before and we’ll never forget. She told Jennifer that she wanted everyone to sit and watch her do a special ballet dance in her new black ballet outfit. So we put on a slow song and watched in amazement as she danced around gracefully like no one else was in the room. It was like watching time-lapsed photography of a flower coming out from the ground and bending towards the sun. Jennifer and I had seen this Sadie, but no one else had. It was the first time we’d ever seen her come out of herself in front of anyone and really enjoy others enjoying her. I videoed the whole thing on my phone, peeking over the lens several times to see all of our friends watching and videoing and enjoying Sadie as well. I was so proud. I looked hard at Jennifer to see if she was crying. She was holding it together. I was struggling. I just kept thinking of the day she dances one last dance with me and then spins away with her new husband. I hate him already.

As I replayed the video before bed I realized that I’d crossed over into a new life, a life in which I’m not nearly as concerned about my own success as I am of my kid’s, a life that is consumed with pride in my kids and their achievements instead of my own. It’s happened so gradually over the past eight years that I didn’t even notice. But now I see it – I must become less and they must become more. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.
I’ve seen our parents show this kind of pride in us, they still beam when they come to one of our concerts the way I do when Hutch does something amazing on his bike and I notice others watching. I’d noticed it, but I didn’t understand it like I do now. So this is what that feels like.

Jennifer and the kids are helping her sister Jannell with her garage sale this morning and Sadie is there in that same black tutu trying to stay warm. She hasn’t taken if off since the party on Wednesday night. She argued with us about wearing it until we just caved in and put clothes on her over the ballet suit. Jennifer was there only minutes until she was down to just the tutu again. She has her mother’s will.

May you live fully awake and alive today, Jeromy

SO THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE is the newest blog series from Jeromy Deibler. To receive all posts and free music please click “subscribe” at www.ffh.net.

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Merridee’s Monday

1 CommentNovember 15, 2011

Hoosier Edition

I was planning to write this letter yesterday, but by the time afternoon came and I was alone I couldn’t muster up the energy to do it. We (FFH) spent this past weekend on tour in Indiana and it was more tiring than normal. The concerts were a lot of fun, but the weekend was grueling. Hutch and Sadie-Claire were with us this time along with the other guys in the band, our tour manager Ally, and my mom, who came to help with the kids. We were nine in all. Jennifer and I decided several years ago to take the kids along with us when we’re going to be gone for more than one night. They usually roll with it pretty well, but for whatever reason, they were more high maintenance this time than in the past. As I type I’m taking long breaks to think about them and what’s made parenting such a labor lately. A couple of my friends are feeling the same way. I guess it’s normal. I’ll brood on these thoughts and then all of a sudden Sadie will come dancing through the kitchen in her ballet outfit twirling like she’s on stage in front of thousands, or I’ll hear Hutch playing quietly in his room pretending to blow something up, and the heaviness will lift and I’ll remember to be thankful. Forgive me Father for loosing perspective.


As I spin the wedding band around on my finger I ponder the road we’ve walked to get here. It doesn’t feel like sixteen years since Jennifer and I were married. So much has happened that we’d have never expected. All of life is like that, that’s probably why Jesus told us to only consider today. Even our best laid plans for tomorrow can be thwarted in a heartbeat, or the absence of one…

Our shows this past Thursday and Friday were promoted by our friend Tom Roberts and his family. We first met them many years ago when we played at his church in Anderson IN. We remember it well because of the bright blue wall-to-wall carpet that blanketed the sanctuary. Tom later moved on from that church and booked us for concerts in other places. This past weekend he was joining FFH with CSI (Christian Services International) to bring awareness to the Bell family and their work with unseen children in Kenya. What most people didn’t know was that Tom and his family we’re dealing with unseen hurt of their own. This past summer, their son Jeff went to bed feeling a little sick and didn’t wake up. His brother discovered him in the morning and the family’s world was turned upside down. Things went from normal to tragic literally overnight. After the concert on Friday I spent a couple of minutes with the Roberts’ listening as they recounted what happened. The hurt was still fresh, still very near the surface. They remembered Jeff with joy though, and told me of miraculous things that happened as a result of Jeff’s passing. I marveled at their sprit and their faith as they laughed and cried at the same time. It’s amazing how joy and sorrow can fill up the same teardrop.

(As I’m getting ready to post and send this letter I receive an email from Tom…)

“Jeromy, I felt you really struggling with the loss of our son, Jeff.  Believe me, it was a CRISIS of Faith!  I was at a crossroads of Belief.  Did I truly believe what God’s Word says?  We have had many people come to us and say that they have never seen anyone with a faith as strong as ours going through something like this.  This is what I know….it has nothing to do with us.  Jesus is carrying us through this time.  We would not make it otherwise.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, has to do with our strength.  Left to ourselves, we would have been a total wreck. One day I was talking with God about this so called strong “Faith”.  He just reminded me of the story about Doubting Thomas… Remember this was after the resurrection of Jesus

(John 20:24-2924) Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”    But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”  26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”  28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”  29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

So God says to me, these small little trinkets of treasure that I have shown you the last few months to comfort you and to show you just a very small part of how I am using Jeff’s passing for my Glory….remind you of something Thomas? It is the one ………who never sees any fruit……..any sign that He is using a situation for His Glory……and still continues to hold on to the Faith……that is a strong Faith.  Pause…………….He was right again as always.  Tom  

Have a peaceful week, one day at a time-
Jeromy

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Merridee’s Monday

3 CommentsFebruary 7, 2011

I didn’t make it in to the bakery this morning. It’s twenty past nine and I’m still in my PJs. I decided to go ahead and write my letter to you from home. Jennifer is trying to get back into the groove of homeschool after being iced-in St Louis last week. I’ve not been sleeping well and had a long weekend leading music at Church so this week is getting of to a very slow start. Plus, it’s another freezing day outside and we’ve had it up to here with the winter. Hutch is saying that he is sad but doesn’t know why. Jennifer is trying to read the first lesson and Sadie-Claire keeps interrupting her. I’m trying to not get aggravated. I don’t know how she does this like she does. The kids just ate and they are already asking for a snack. I get annoyed and Jennifer tells me to chill.
I hope you guys have a great week. If you live in a warm spot pray for those of us less-fortunate souls who do not. Here’s a hello from us at the homeschool table…

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Meridee’s Monday

6 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

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So This Is What It Feels Like

CommentMarch 26, 2010

So This Is What It Feels Like
2010.03.26

In 2005 my friend Mike gave me a book called “A Guide To Prayer For All God’s People” written, in part, by Rueben Job. It has been my Bible companion ever since, through Africa, kids, MS, everything. Turns out that Rueben now lives here in Tennessee, fifteen minutes from my house, so this morning I went to visit him.

When I arrive, Rueben meets me at the door to his complex and leads me to the elevator and down the hall to he and Beverly’s third floor apartment. I walk into the room and the smell of cookies baking makes my shoulders relax. I realize right away that I am stepping out of normal Nashville-time and into something much more sacred. Rueben is welcoming and gentle just like I though he would be. His eighty-two year old heart is week so he talks slow and hushed, which seems to make the atmosphere even more Holy. My friend Mike is there too and he and I settle into recliners and Rueben and Beverly serve us cookies and coffee to dip them in. The space is warm and uncluttered and it reminds me of home. When I was a kid I spent most of my time with my grandparents, Amos and Leah, Maw Maw and Paw Paw as we call them. We lived in Lancaster Pennsylvania and like so many families there Amos and Leah grew up Amish. Just after they married and just before they had kids Maw Maw and Paw Paw left the Amish tradition and turned Mennonite. They left the Mennonite tradition shortly thereafter opting for hairstyles and chrome bumpers and movies. They stayed close to family though and I grew up visiting lots of Amish relatives with them. I loved those visits. Even without electricity and telephones, Amish lives are interesting. Conversations at Amish houses are long and involved, not just words in passing, and the jokes are sarcastic and perfectly timed. We usually made our visits during lunch and I would inevitably fall into a carb-induced coma on the sofa afterward. I loved falling asleep to the sound of my grandparents and aunts and uncles talking. It was so safe. That’s what this morning was like. I even mentioned before we left how I felt like I could sleep hoping that Rueben would say, “Stay and rest a while,” but he didn’t take the bait.

Last night our friends Missy and Anthony came over to talk about their upcoming wedding ceremony. Jennifer and I sort of feel like we had some hand in their getting together so we thought we should be in the wedding. Hutch and Sadie-Claire had to go to bed without much attention from us since we were visiting with our friends and I later told Jennifer how missing bedtime made me feel guilty. She told me not to worry and how she used to love falling asleep to the sound of the grown ups talking. Then I remembered that I loved it too. Then this morning happened and now I’m wondering what the Lord is up to. I’m meeting with Rueben again in two weeks to find out.

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