Wilderness Songs
Jeromy and Jennifer Deibler of FFH have seen difficult times—including his MS diagnosis—since disbanding a couple years ago. But now they’re back.
Andrea Bailey Willits | posted 12/15/2009

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Two years after quietly disappearing from the Christian music scene, FFH is back—but the original foursome, which specialized in a capella harmonies, is now just husband-and-wife duo Jeromy and Jennifer Deibler. And their new independent record, Wide Open Spaces, is nothing like the FFH you've heard before. That's because in 2006, the Deiblers entered a self-described wilderness that changed almost everything about their lives and careers. The battle is far from over, but in this interview with CT, the couple opens up about Jeromy's diagnosis with multiple sclerosis, their long season of waiting, and why they don't care if they ever have another hit single.
Why did FFH step away from music in 2006?
Jennifer: We were traveling a lot and having to leave our son, who was 2 at the time, behind. We'd been on the road ever since we'd been married, 10 or 11 years, and I was just really tired. We were getting kind of burnt out. Jeromy went on a mission trip to South Africa with our church, and he came home saying, "We need to spend some time there." The pastor of the church had asked him to come back for six months and help with the worship there, mentor their worship leaders. But we thought we couldn't do it because of our job.

Jeromy and Jennifer Deibler
We went for a counseling session with our whole band and I said, "I can't do this anymore." Our counselor said, "OK, let's go around the room. How does everyone feel if we don't do this anymore?" Everybody said, "I feel relieved." So we devised a plan of a six-month off-ramp. We played the shows we had, and Jeromy and I decided to take six months in Africa after that.
Jeromy, even before you left for Africa, you were having health problems. What was happening?
Jeromy: In May 2006, I went to bed one night feeling normal, and woke up feeling a numb, painful area on my left arm. Two hours later my arm was really sore, and by that afternoon I had debilitating pain up and down my left arm. I was mowing the grass that afternoon and just a blade of grass touching my arm caused excruciating pain.
The doctor told me I had a pinched nerve in my neck and carpel tunnel. But when I went back and got an MRI done, the guy was like, "Look, man, I don't want you to be freaked out, but we found something on the MRI, something inside your spinal column." They sent me to a neurologist who poked a lot of needles in my arm, did a lot of tests and sent me home. I got better, which is typical of MS—it slowly fades and you feel better. But a month later, my abdomen went numb. I had three or four episodes in a year, until the last one affected my leg and put me on the couch. I went back for a spinal tap and got diagnosed with MS. But there was a year and a half of time I dealt with this.
What was going on with you and Jennifer emotionally and spiritually during this time?
Jeromy: I was miserable. Part of the misery was not knowing [the diagnosis], and something chemical was going on in my brain because of the MS that was making me very scared. It was debilitating, depressive fear. It made Jennifer miserable. For a lot of that time, I was probably a very difficult person to live with. Not that I was cranky and explosive to her, but I was very scared. I was scared that I wasn't going to see my kids grow up; I was scared that I was going to die.
Finally Jennifer was like, "You have to get people praying for you." That helped. Antidepressants helped. My disease had caused a chemical deficiency of serotonin; almost all people with MS get on antidepressants. They gave me a level playing field to fight against this and pray.