Who Are You?

I published this essay in my third book, Learning to Lean. I hope it speaks to you as it still speaks to me.

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But who indeed are you, a human being, to talk back to God? (Romans 9:20).


I dreamed a dream so real it startled me awake. I saw myself waiting at a traffic light on a street I didn’t recognize. Through the open Malibu window I heard strangers on the corner call to each other: “Roger is dead.”

Somehow I knew who they were talking about, and the news stunned me. I couldn’t believe it.

I wouldn’t believe it.

I pressed the gas pedal and raced toward the funeral home. In moments I burst into a viewing room and stood by my friend's open casket.

He lay on his left side, curled almost in a fetal position. And the blood. It was everywhere. On his chest. At the bottom of the casket. It covered his abdomen. His hands. His clothing.

I fell across him and wept – a deep, visceral sobbing.

I rarely have dreams in which I weep.

“Roger!” I shouted. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

My groans knew no balm as I wrapped my arms around him and pressed his lifeless body to myself.

Then, in the corner of my eye I noticed a man beside me. Late thirties. Five-ten, or so. Clean-shaved. Light colored short-sleeved shirt. Dark, thick hair.

I knew it was Jesus.

I stood and turned to Him, “You can’t let him die!”

It was not a request. It was an order.

“You just can’t.”

I didn’t try to choke down my grief.

“You can’t.”

Jesus looked into my eyes. I could still see his gaze hours later when I wrote down the dream. His expression unmistakable. It said: “Who are you to tell Me what to do?”

Then, as suddenly as His expression rebuked, it softened. And without a word His eyes said:

“Trust Me.”

I awakened. And though the image of my friend and the coffin stayed with me, so, too, did the Lord’s words.

When I realized I had only dreamed it, I prayed awhile for Roger and then called him. He was fine. Then I sought to understand if the dream might mean something more. Perhaps a message for me.

After a time, I concluded: In the grip of even the deepest tragedy, or grief, despair, or heartache, Jesus always asks: “Who are you to tell Me what to do?”

And then He says:

“Trust Me.”

 

Beware of despairing . . . . You are commanded to put your trust in God, and not in yourself. – St. Augustine