Issue 3 - July 2024

A daughter who returned to the house where she grew up, was given a second chance at love, caring for her ageing parents and came home to herself.


Turning Morning Dancing

By Deborah Wenzler Farris


After twenty-one years and forty moves, which included a career in theatre and dance, a marriage, a son, abuse, a divorce, a new career, a new marriage, and a second chance at love, I returned to the house on Shepard Avenue where I grew up. It was my home, my Shepherd, my spiritual address. Since then, God has been cleaning up the place.

I think about my years of struggle with surrender and the love I’ve received. God has kept me connected to the Vine, reminding me, sometimes more subtly than others, that I can do nothing apart from Him, and I have found my peace of mind.

But mental health is insidious.

There’s a history of mental health issues in my family that I had hoped to avoid, but guess what? It’s a part of my wiring. And that’s okay.

Some of us did better than others in this department. For those who struggle with anxiety and depression to varying degrees, we know there is nothing worse than trying to fix ourselves or being alone in the dark with shame and fears.

Some of us did better than others in this department. For those who struggle with anxiety and depression to varying degrees, we know there is nothing worse than trying to fix ourselves or being alone in the dark with shame and fears.

We can’t rewire the many fine wires we are made of that make us into who we are and who we are becoming. Sometimes, we need a spiritual rewiring from the inside out, and only the Spirit can rework it.

Spiritual healing is supernatural healing.

For too long, I believed that I was inadequate when it came to faith. I was hard on myself.

I looked to others for approval, clung to my performance, and believed I could prove myself worthy. I had surrendered to my Saviour, so I didn’t understand why the struggle continued with such intensity. Each day was a battle of my will against God’s. I wanted his will for my life. I prayed for it, worked at it, and wondered why it was so hard. A terrible sense of unworthiness, self-focus, and confusion grew inside me.

My mind would skew comments, overthink situations, and turn reactions into judgments. Even a misunderstood look became a self-condemnation that caused me to withdraw. I was really good at withdrawing.

Now I can see the journey.

God was doing deep work in me. He was so gentle while peeling back those layers of my life that needed to come off. He performed spiritual surgery.

I think of it this way...judgements

After heart surgery fifteen years ago, my late father couldn’t breathe. No one could figure out why. It kept getting worse and there was no help to be found. His surgeon kept saying, “My surgery was a success!” As if to say, my dad imagined his shortness of breath. As if to imply it was all in his head. As if it meant that by being overly anxious, he created the physical sensation himself and just needed to take a pill to relax. He tried that. It didn’t work.

One day after work, I stopped by his condo, and from across the room, I saw terror in his eyes. He looked small and fragile, his skin pasty and ashen, and I thought he was dying. Just as my father did, I struggled with claustrophobia. The fear of not being able to breathe was palpable.

I called for help! I don’t remember, but somehow, we got him oxygen, which offered some relief.

Not long after that, he was back in the ER. We waited for the test results. When the results arrived, they released him. Again, they said nothing was wrong with him. But he still couldn’t breathe. Dad said, “I’m not leaving this place until you figure this out. Doctors don’t know everything.” He wouldn’t leave.

They finally called in a pulmonologist, who discovered that Dad’s right lung had closed, and the left one was on its way. Following the heart surgery, maybe as a reaction to the shock, his body thought it was protecting itself; membranes had grown over the lung and shut it down for service.

That lung surgery was worse than the heart valve surgery. They had to open up his back and, very carefully, surgically remove those membranes, one at a time, layer by layer, so oxygen could again flow into the lungs.

My father never smoked, but he had asthma all his life, so he was already vulnerable. Following the surgery, we were told if he were ever to get pneumonia, it would all be over.

“So be careful.”

He was very careful.

Over the next nine years, Dad had pneumonia nine times, and while in the hospital, he always talked about a Savior who went to great lengths and heights and widths to reach his beloved children and offer them his love. Some of Dad’s roommates were near death, while others would be gone before he left the hospital.

I have witnessed this over and over again. God uses all things for the good of those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose. Sure, Dad struggled, and it wasn’t exactly a picnic, but he couldn’t have been happier during those days.

I’m not saying that God gave Dad pneumonia to save another soul, but it did seem that Dad always paired up with a roommate or aides or nurses or even doctors who wanted to hear more about this Jesus.

God could even use pneumonia for his glory, which was beautiful to experience. Likewise, He can use depression.

Ever since the day I turned to Jesus with a softened heart, he has been surgically removing the layers of hurt, shame, and pain that stole my breath—my life—over the years.

God can use our stories of struggle to help another struggling soul. Here, I thought I had been stubbornly disconnecting myself from the Vine when, all along, God was there, connected and working in the deep places within me. He could not remove another layer and go deeper until He knew my heart was more fortified.

I have longed for freedom from the ‘prison in my mind.’ Insecurities, self-doubt, and a not-too-lovely sense of low self-esteem, mixed with depression, had always been a part of my life. Maybe they’re a part of yours, too, or a part of someone that you love. So we wait expectantly.

Sometimes, God heals us in a coruscate of light. Other times, it’s a slow surgical process, like the surgeon carefully, intentionally, specifically removing each membrane on the lining of my father’s lungs.

God does the same with our painful memories, which close us off from the breath of life, the Spirit in us. Slowly, God woos and heals the deep places that took so many years to dismantle. We need to be kind and patient to ourselves.

God knows us, every tendon and molecule and hair on our head. He knows exactly what we need at exactly the right time.

Mental health is not always understood by the mentally healthy. Some of us are born without mental illness. I don’t think my older brother had a drop of it. For those of us who are more finely wired, it’s another story.

God can heal even this.

I faithfully follow day by day, morning by morning, as I read His Love Letter, letting his words sink in. God has been able to go deeper and deeper, doing His miraculous re-wiring work so that I can be free of all that held me back.

But we have to be willing.


The disciples ‘willingly’ let Jesus into the boat. They were so afraid in that storm. Their faith was shaken to the core. They thought they were staring death in the face as Christ walked toward them on the water. Can you imagine their relief when He was with them in the boat, when the storm calmed, and they quite smoothly reached the shore?

God is so faithful. Real inner healing awaits.

Jesus does that for us in our inner turbulent storms. When we’re ready, he takes us safely to shore. He turns mourning into dancing. He turns ashes into beauty. And I am reminded, once again, how much we need each other.


Interview with Deborah Wenzler Farris 

For this interview, we chose our short story winner, Deborah Wenzler Farris, to share her story of a daughter who returned to the house where she grew up, was given a second chance at love, and, in caring for her ageing parents, came home to herself.

What inspired you to share your story with the world?

These words were some of the most vulnerable I have ever written. It’s not easy to admit one’s weaknesses. They were a true Psalm 139 moment. You have to be ready to respond when you pray like David, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.” My inspiration (and courage) comes from God’s amazingly creative spirit. Be encouraged, his strength shines through our weaknesses.

How did this constant change impact your sense of identity and stability?

I like the words “constant” and “change” and the idea that we are constantly in a state of spiritual metamorphosis, always in the process of becoming, and given a new identity in Christ with a unique purpose. Is it odd that it’s in this state of constant transformation that I find my identity and stability?

Can you elaborate on how your spiritual beliefs helped you navigate through challenging times?

Well, if there is anything I’d like to have understood earlier in my life, it’s that it will be a struggle. We get so good at putting on our masks and making it appear that all is well when it’s not. People around us seem to have it all together, so why don’t we? I learned so slowly that becoming our true selves as God intended us to be happens most radically in and through our suffering (grief, losses and failures, betrayals and rejections, and all the rest). That’s where I drew near to God. It’s where we meet Jesus, the greatest navigator I know, and the deep work can begin. We’re never alone.

What advice would you give to someone struggling with anxiety and depression?

That there is hope. We have this Anchor… Anxiety and depression can become your great assets. They keep us dependent on God. We come to the end of ourselves and learn to surrender. And isn’t that what life is ultimately about? Surrendering what we cannot keep to gain what we cannot lose? Christ in us, the hope of glory. It begins and ends there and in between we are promised grace and new life, abundant life. I think I might be going over my word count…

How did your father's journey influence your perspective on health and faith?

In just about every way. For most of my younger life, we didn’t see eye-to-eye. God gave us a sweet finish. Returning home allowed me the opportunity to love and support both my parents, as they had loved and supported me throughout my life. (I was in the theatre and moved a lot.)

Coming home, I didn’t know at the time that I would lose my big brother to a heart attack and that my mom’s cancer would return and take her life. So my dad and I spent a lot of time together near the end of his life. We were alike in many ways. A little too intense? There were no gray areas when it came to his faith and that pushed me away for years. I believe we are each on our own faith journey; no two walks are alike; they are as unique as the individuals we are. I think we came to understand that about each other and we grew in our understanding and respect for each other. And in our love!

Can you explain the concept of 'spiritual rewiring' and its role in your healing process?

Oh, that comes from me referring to myself as being “finely wired.” I think my husband coined or stole that phrase. It fits. I’m an over-sensitive, over-thinker who feels things too strongly for her own good. When I came to understand and accept that about myself and by spending time with God in his Word (morning by morning), I stopped beating myself up (and allowing others to as well). It’s not that it disappears; I wouldn’t be telling the whole truth if I didn’t say it’s a daily battle. But I’ve become a skilled warrior. Also, I’ve realized those things about myself are the very things that make me a good writer. (Did I really just say I’m a good writer?)


How did you come to understand and embrace surrendering to God's will despite your struggles?

Oh, I put up a good fight. I don’t remember if I mentioned I was an overachiever. My worth came through my performance. I finally got sick with a rare autoimmune disease and had to do low dose chemo injections for three years. Thy will humble you. But it was through the people God sent into my life. Like my dear friends Nancy and Marc, who came along and helped me through the dark night my soul. I wanted to give up but they wouldn’t let me.

How have theatre and dance influenced your writing and personal journey?

My years in theatre have provided me with great stories! And it also showed me how I was acting off stage as well as on stage. Like the masks I mentioned earlier, mine had to come off in order to write from my heart, which is the only way I can write. Dance impacted me differently. It wasn’t until I stopped moving and sat in my chair with my grief following my brother’s death, with my Bible and journal, that I began to discover new movement within me. I called the Dance within. It’s like dancing with the Spirit, heart to heart, except I was writing.


How important is community and support in overcoming personal battles?

It’s everything to me. I’m an introvert so I am often drained rather than energized by being with people. I need a lot of time alone. My husband understands this and is the same way, which is a good thing. When I discovered how richly rewarding, fulfilling and powerful my time alone with God in his Word was for me, it was hard to find the same depth with others. It was a little like pushing me out of my cocoon so I could learn to fly. It was painful in process but what butterfly would ask to remain without wings? But I first needed to make space for Christ to take up residence within me. That’s the Spirit’s work. Now he makes space for me to be in others’ lives in deep and meaningful ways and in meaningful relationships. I learn more about who I am by being with the people God has put in my life, whether it’s with friends, with family, at church or in the Wisconsin Writers Association Critique group! Let’s face it, I’m my own worst critic. I need my people. The people in my life reflect God. I can see and hear him!


What do you hope readers will take away from 'Turning Mourning Dancing' and how do you envision it impacting their lives?

Most importantly, if someone is struggling with depression, grief, failure, etc., know that God really does turn our mourning to dancing. We may need to adjust our definition of dancing a bit but we can be certain that he is able to bring peace and joy to wherever we find ourselves. Looking back, some of the richest times with my family were in the midst of our grief together. It bonded us and brought us closer like nothing else. And the worst of times in my own life, whether in relationships, health, church or work, God was “peeling off those layers of my “self” so he could put his new garment on me. He’s got really good taste and a great wardrobe to choose from. I’m getting more and more comfortable with what he likes to see me in.

Categories: : family, Inspirational

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