I dream a lot. I remember years ago sitting on a busy bus, closing my eyes for “just a moment,” and then dreaming about a man walking up to a field, trying to open the gate but finding he couldn’t do it. Another man came up behind him and pushed it open with one hand.
Dreams and visions are profound ways God has chosen to reveal Himself to His people. They are not fleeting imaginings but direct, often startling encounters that call for a response. Throughout Scripture, these are depicted as divine moments with lasting impact—not random mental images but purposeful, heart-stirring experiences where God’s presence breaks into human reality. The prophet Joel speaks with urgency about dreams and visions, saying that “your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions” (Joel 2:28, ESV). This is not a suggestion, nor a distant hope; it is a promise of God’s Spirit moving in His people with transforming power. It is language God often uses with prophets, and now Joel is saying God will communicate with His people through prophecy, dreams, and visions—a fantastic triad of revelation! There’s no “fluffiness” about these encounters—they are not mere moments of imagination.
Consider Peter’s rooftop vision in Acts 10. As he prays, the same Peter who once walked on water with Jesus, who denied Him three times, is given a vision that challenges every cultural and religious fibre of his being: a sheet of unclean animals is lowered with a command to “Rise, Peter; kill and eat” (Acts 10:13, ESV). This was no symbolic story meant to inspire; it was a consequential encounter with God that dismantled long-held beliefs and paved the way for the Gentile mission, revolutionising the early Church. It was an “earthquake” moment! Such visions are not simply extras or tokens in the believer’s life but pivotal moments that redirect and reshape the Church and its mission.
But why do these kinds of profound encounters sometimes seem elusive today? Perhaps we are more likely to experience them if we are aware of them, but they remain at God’s initiative. Why don’t we see more of this holy interruption in our lives? It may be that we have drifted into viewing visions as optional—a matter of “take it or leave it” inspiration rather than the life-shifting phenomenon they truly are. Once you have seen a vision, you can’t unsee it. We play too loosely with the words “dreams and visions.” “I have a dream” is about aspiration, while “I had a dream” conveys what God has revealed. Sometimes we become distracted, focusing on lesser things or expecting God to speak only in comfortable, bite-sized images.
While it’s a joy to receive pictures or impressions during prayer—and we welcome them—there’s also a place to hunger for more, knowing that there is more. God still speaks in visions that shake us to our core, that challenge us, and that draw us deeper into His purposes.
Interestingly, as we examine Scripture, we see that dreams and visions are almost always spontaneous. They happen at God’s initiation, not because people pray for them. Abraham, Jacob, Daniel, Peter—all were surprised by their encounters. There’s no instance of anyone praying specifically for a vision or dream, though people certainly desired to hear from God. Dreams and visions come as gifts of His sovereignty and grace, shaping us in ways we couldn’t orchestrate ourselves. They change us, renew us, and encourage us. While we cannot “make” visions happen, we can cultivate a heart that’s ready to receive them when they do.
We must be wise and discerning in interpreting these experiences; not every vision is self-explanatory, and dreams often need interpretation—sometimes through the help of others gifted in discernment. Joseph’s dreams of his family bowing to him, for instance, held layers of meaning that took years to unfold (Genesis 37). The same goes for Daniel’s visions, which he sometimes struggled to understand (Daniel 8). A mature understanding built over the years helps us navigate the ambiguity that can accompany these revelations, recognising that some are literal while others are symbolic. Patience, humility, and community play significant roles here, as we seek to understand God’s purpose in what He has shown us rather than forcing our interpretations onto His message.
In all of this, may we remember that God delights in revealing Himself to us, sometimes gently and sometimes with the intensity of a blazing fire. The brilliant news for us is that visions and dreams are not distant relics of a primitive faith; they are as available and vital to the Church today as they were for early believers. Perhaps it’s time to seek a resurgence, a renewed openness to encounter God in these ways—not for novelty, but for the genuine transformation they bring.
Let’s be open to every glimpse of God that comes our way, whether it’s a faint impression, a simple picture, or a life-altering vision. We can be thankful for the “small things” He gives and still long for more, trusting that our God remains the same: a God who reveals, who guides, and who still transforms through His Spirit. Dreams, visions, whispers, or any other divine phenomena—may we be ready to receive whatever He chooses to give, waiting on the One who “will pour out [His] Spirit on all flesh” (Joel 2:28, ESV).
Let’s honour His sovereignty, embrace intimacy with Him, and open ourselves to His divine surprises and purposes.
