Dream : Jesus, Dead People, and a Giant Casket in the Sky

I was in the sky, but it wasn’t like flying in a plane or anything like that. It felt more like floating in an open field, only instead of grass and dirt, there was just air and endless clouds below me. The sky was this weird, pale color, not quite blue, not quite grey, like it couldn’t make up its mind. I wasn’t scared, though—just kind of… there.

That’s when I noticed I wasn’t alone. All around me, in every direction, were people. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them, just standing in the sky like it was solid ground. Some of them were people I knew—old friends, family members I hadn’t seen in years. I even saw Jeremias (what was he doing here?!). But the weirdest part? These people were dead. I don’t mean zombies or ghosts or anything like that, they just... felt dead. Their eyes were a little too still, their movements too slow, like they were tired of being here. Some of them had this hazy look, like the air was bending around them, making them blurry.

In the middle of all this, standing on nothing like it was the most normal thing in the world, was Jesus. But He didn’t look like the pictures you see in churches. His hair was wild, and He was wearing jeans and an old T-shirt, like He just rolled out of bed. He looked up at me and smiled, kind of casual, like we were just hanging out at a coffee shop or something.

“Hey, you’re late,” He said.

“Late for what?” I asked, feeling completely lost.

“The funeral, man. Everyone’s here.”

I looked around and noticed that all the dead people were looking up, not at Jesus, but at this giant wooden casket floating above us, swaying gently like a balloon on a string. It was huge, like the size of a building, and it was just hanging there in the air. No ropes, no nothing. Inside the casket, I could hear faint music—organ music, like at a funeral—but it kept cutting out, glitching like a broken record.

"Whose funeral is this?" I asked.

Jesus looked up at the casket, squinting like He was trying to remember. “I don’t know, man. Could be yours, could be mine. We’ve all had a few.” He laughed, but it was a weird, hollow laugh, like He didn’t really find it funny.

Suddenly, the sky started shifting, like the clouds were melting into one another, swirling together. The dead people started moving too, but not walking—they were just drifting, slowly, toward the giant casket in the sky. One by one, they floated up into it, disappearing inside without a sound.

I didn’t want to go, but I felt a pull, like gravity was reversing. I looked at Jesus, and He shrugged.

“Guess it’s your turn,” He said, as casual as ever.

I shook my head, trying to resist, but the pull got stronger. I started floating, slow at first, but then faster, getting closer to the casket. The music got louder, but it was all wrong now, distorted, like someone was playing it backwards. The closer I got, the darker the sky became, and I could feel my heart racing like I was about to fall.

Just as I was about to reach the casket, Jesus yelled, “Wait! You’re not dead yet!” and snapped His fingers.

Everything froze. The pull stopped. The sky went silent. I was hanging there, just inches from the casket, feeling the cold air around it. Then, without warning, the casket opened up, and instead of a body, it was just filled with… mirrors. Hundreds of tiny mirrors reflecting my face back at me, each one showing me at different ages, from a baby to an old man.

I panicked, trying to grab onto something, but there was nothing to hold. Suddenly, I was falling—not flying, not drifting, but falling, like I had been dropped from the sky. I could hear Jesus laughing in the distance as I plummeted back toward the clouds. The dead people were gone, the casket was gone, and the sky was getting darker and darker.

Then I hit something soft. Not the ground, but my bed. I was awake. Sweating. My heart was pounding, but I was back. Alive.

I looked out the window, and the sky was just normal again. No caskets. No dead people. Just... real life.