Delta
'Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls; All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.' ("Psalm 42:7 NASB 1995")
Later that evening ... 2-16-96
My daughter was away at Youth Camp and it was getting late, so I called the camp and asked to speak to her. When she finally picked up the phone, I told her gently that I had some bad news to tell her, and upon her replying, I relayed the message we had received earlier that John had died. I can still hear her shriek echoing in my memory, just as my wife had, and when she had calmed down, I told her she needed to come home. Then, after returning, we had to find out how to bring John home.
Shortly thereafter, the Lord enabled our Church family to help us begin the process of his return. My long-time Sunday School teacher and mentor purchased plane tickets for my wife, daughter, and I to travel out to "Indiana" to meet with the local coroner. While on the plane, I somehow opened my Bible to Psalm 42 and began reading it. For some reason, verse 7 spoke quietly to my Heart, so I meditated on it for a while and then continued to the end. Little did I know that Psalm, and that particular verse (seen above in red), would change my life forever! Upon our arrival, we checked in at a nearby motel and made an appointment to meet with the coroner. And there we began our mystical journey that would not end until we were all united again in the Heavenlies.
The next morning, we met with the coroner to view John's body. It was a terrible experience that I wouldn't wish on anyone, parent or sibling. He hadn't been found until over a day later, so his body was in poor condition, but he always kept his hair immaculate, and it shone brightly in the dimly-lit room. I stroked it as we sobbed together, before saying our heart-broken goodbyes, and we somehow managed to tear ourselves away from his cherished remains, in order to make final transport arrangements with an all too familiar funeral home in NJ. The hardest part was graciously over, but we still had to notify his employer, collect his belongings, and meet with his friends at the scene of the tragedy, an off-campus apartment in Bloomington, IN. Fortunately, the police had notified Indiana University, where he had attended college for the past 5 years, so we didn't have to attend to the messy affair that had actually opened the door to this entire sad scenerio. You see, he was a triple major and should have graduated the prior fall semester, but extended curriculum requirements had changed all our plans, thus leaving us in the hands of Divine Providence. However, God always has a way of glorifying even the most dire circumstance, as we were soon to find out.
After notifying his employer, where he worked as a waiter to earn a little spending money, we had a simple dinner there, and then returned to the motel, where we thought we could find some rest for our weary souls. But, there was no place to rest our heads in peace.
Early the next cold morning, before the warm February sun had barely risen, I was awakened by an inner tug, urging me to go outside. So, I quickly dressed, quietly slipped out the front door, and followed the urge around to the back of the building. There, at the top of an icy hill, I gazed down into the morning mist below, where I could see a wooden bridge crossing a small brook into what seemed to be a local park. I had responded to such urges before, and always had been mysteriously rewarded by what I now realize as the Spirit's leading, where I never knew what to expect, but had never been disappointed by following it. Surprised, perhaps, but never disappointed.
I carefully made my way down the slippery slope and slowly started to cross the bridge. Suddenly, the sound of the babbling brook awakened in my memory the thought of a cassette tape John had made of some music he had been working on. He was an accomplished piano/organ player and DJ in his own right, and had recorded the sound of gentle rushing waters at the beginning of a tape he called "Music Without Words". The sound of the brook was exactly like it, as I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped into what seemed to be another world.
There, my eyes and ears were filled with nature seemingly communicating with each other and, in turn, trying to communicate with me. I began to hear one woodpecker after another chirping and drilling thoughout the surrounding trees. One would make a hollow drilling noise in the distance and another would answer nearby. Soon they were all around and, as I looked up, I could clearly see the immaculate red head of the one closest to me shining brightly in the morning sun. It reminded me immediately of John's beautiful hair at the recent viewing, and a sense of peace led me onward and upward until I came to a sloping dirt road leading to a trail up a nearby mountainside. The source of the broadening brook gradually became a river, which ran down a valley from the mountain above, so I followed the trail as it winded alongside. The sound of the rushing waters grew louder and louder until the trail broke into a clearing near the top, where I was taken aback by the sight of a magnificent frozen waterfall!
It looked, in all its glory, like a giant cathedral organ, with it's large crystal-clear pipes producing their own added tones to the music of the rushing waters. I could see it was possible to go behind the falls and cross over to the other side, so down I went. Causiously, yet bravely and excitedly, I made my way down the slippery slope to the sanctity within the crystal veil. Behind the privacy of that secret place, I let loose all my grief, as my wail echoed down the empty canyon and my tears mingled with the rushing waters. Then, the most amazing thing happened! I felt something put its arm around my shoulders and, with the most loving, comforting embrace, assured me I was not alone. I quickly composed myself, broke off two icicles, and ran all the way back to the motel room to get my family, faster and easier than I had ever run before.
Upon arrival, I showed my wife and daughter the icicles, shared the excitement of my experience, as they were wondering where I had disappeared to, and brought them back with me to the falls, so they could see it for themselves. Then, to cap it all off, when we finally returned to the room again, we turned on the TV and, to our utter amazement, MTV was playing REM's music video "Everybody Hurts". Obviously, we cried our hearts out once more and hugged each other in total emotional exhaustion. Later, when I was able to collect all my thoughts and emotions, I would write a poem, entitled "Psalm 42", encapsulating the whole experience. Little did I realize then, how similar those feelings actually were to those of the Psalmist himself. God Is Good! All The Time!!
Last Updated:
4/9/26