Fearless by Max Lucado

Author:Max Lucado
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2012-05-18T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Scared to Death

Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God,

and trust also in me. . . . I will come and get you, so that

you will always be with me where I am.

—JOHN 14: 1, 3 NLT

Fear of Life’s Final Moments

Once, in a dream, I encountered a man who was wearing a fedora and a corduroy coat. He was the classroom version of Indiana Jones: distinguished, professorial, strong jawed, and kind eyed. He frequented funerals. Apparently I did as well, for the dream consisted of one memorial after another—at funeral homes, chapels, gravesides. He never removed his hat. I never asked him why he wore it, but I did ask him to explain his proverbial presence at interments.

“I come to take people to their eternal home.” In waking moments this explanation would have prompted a call to the FBI for a background check. But this was a dream, and dreams permit oddities, so I didn’t probe. I didn’t ask about the source of his list or the mode of his transport. I didn’t think it odd to see the fedora at funerals. But I did think it strange to run into the man on a crowded street.

Think Thanksgiving Day parade or Fourth of July festival. A people-packed avenue. “I’m surprised to see you here,” I told him. He didn’t reply.

I saw one of my friends standing nearby. A good man, a widower, up in years, poor in health. Suddenly I understood the presence of the fedora-clad angel.

“You’ve come for my friend.”

“No.”

Then the dream did what only dreams can do. It dismissed everyone but the visitor and me. The crowded sidewalk became a quiet boulevard, so quiet I couldn’t mistake his next words.

“Max, I came for you.”

Curiously, I didn’t resist, object, or run. I did, however, make a request. When he agreed, the street suddenly filled, and I began going from person to person, saying good-bye. I told no one about the angel or the hat or where I was going. As far as others knew, they would see me again tomorrow.

But I knew better, and because I did, the world righted itself. As if the lens of life had been out of focus, with a twist the picture cleared. Follies and offenses were forgotten. Love was amplified. I shook the hand of a harsh critic, gave my wallet to a beggar. I embraced a few coldhearted and hot-tempered folks. And to my dear ones, my wife and daughters, I gave a prayer. A more simple prayer I could not have prayed. Stay strong. Trust Christ.

And then the dream was done. I was awake. And within an hour I had recorded every memory of the dream.

It’s lingered with me for years. Like a favorite song or sweater, I return to it. Can’t say I do the same with other dreams. But this one stands out because it resonates with a deep desire that you might share: a desire to face death unafraid. To die without fright or a fight .

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