2025 Prophetic Dream: Stepping Into Heaven

I had a powerful dream a few weeks back. It was so beautiful that I felt it on my heart to share here, but hesitated for a reason that I don’t truly know. It has sat on my computer, written, but not published, for weeks now as I have fully marinated in the message and cried in revisiting the dream many times over. This dream was, and is, very special to me. I believe wholeheartedly that it was part divine visit, part prophetic message, and part God kiss for the treasuring. And even though I know I cannot fully comprehend the whole of its parts right now, what I DO know is that it wasn’t “just a dream.”

My prayer in sharing this dream with you is that it opens a door in your life that you choose to walk through with courage and intent… Not because you have to, but because you recognize the invitation for what it is and you make the decision to step onto the train. I cannot explain the flow of the dream or its meaning to your heart except to share it exactly as I experienced it. So that is what you will find here. Just an honest account, detail by detail, as I remembered it. Because my dream was long, for your ease of traveling through, I have decided to break it into three parts. Marinate in the message, sweet friend, and let it become a part of your story, too. If you do, things may never look the same.

All my love and hugs, Shannon

…

Part One:

When the dream started, I opened my eyes to a room filled with screens. It resembled a newsroom with all the different monitors going at once but with different scenes in each one. As I glanced between them, each screen seemed to display a different moment, or memory, in my life. Some were small and seemingly unmonumental. Others were huge, life-changing seasons that would have a deep and profound impact on my life. Some views were filled with joy, tangible joy, that you could almost reach out and touch. Others made me want to turn away, the pain of seeing that memory making my chest ache.

But then I heard the man standing beside me say, “Don’t turn away. Look. Look closer.” I don’t even think I was aware of his presence up until that moment, but as I turned to him, something about him felt familiar and safe. I turned and looked back at the screens, studying them one by one. Tears suddenly began to fill my eyes. How could this be? How did I not see it before?

I took in every screen slowly, searching for the pattern, overwhelmed with emotion as I watched it repeat itself over and over. Every moment. Every season. Every broken space and joyous celebration… He was there. I cannot explain how I knew it was God that was with me in those scenes, but somehow I just knew. It was instinctive, like a daughter who knows her Father’s face so well that she immediately recognizes Him in a photograph or a reflection. I just knew. And there He was… in every screen. In every scene. Laughing, smiling, weeping, and holding me… He was there. But how did I not know?

Just as I reached close to the end, one screen in particular caught my eye… I didn’t remember this scene. I was laughing and dancing. Childlike joy stretched across my face. I was in an alley, and it was dark, but somehow, I didn’t seem to realize it. With childlike innocence, I swung my arms around as my skirt filled with the lift of my twirling body. I was fearless and beautiful, unaware of anything but the joy that filled my heart in that moment. I seemed to be caught up in an emotion, something I couldn’t see, but I could definitely feel. This girl, this version of me, was free and bubbling over with… something… I don’t quite know. And then I realized, just as I had in all the others, that I was not alone. God was there.

But… Something was different about this memory, if you will call it that. This time, He wasn’t dancing or singing with me. He wasn’t weeping or holding me. In fact, He wasn’t moving… at all. He was just standing there, behind me. Leaning in, I took in the scene a bit more. That’s when I realized that He was holding up His arm in the same manner that one would do to protect a child in a passenger seat. His hand reached out, firmly stretching across the dark alley behind me in a way that I couldn’t understand. And then suddenly, as if my eyes had been opened to part of the memory that I couldn’t see before, all became clear. Behind Him, demons snarled and lashed. I felt my body jump back as I continued to take in the scene. There were so many of them I couldn’t count them all. Hundreds, at least, doing all that they could to break free of His line and reach me.

But the longer I watched, the safer I suddenly felt. Because you see, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t move. They couldn’t reach me. They couldn’t break the wall. All because He… was there. And I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know. The girl dancing with childlike joy and no reservation or fear… she simply didn’t know.

All that time, He protected me. In every screen, in every scene, in every memory, there He was. Holding me. Loving me. My eyes darted to another screen. He held out provisions. In yet another, He was opening a door. In another, He wrapped a blanket around me. Time after time… He was there. And I didn’t even know. How could this be?

Just like that, the room of screens was gone. All that was left was me and the man in front of me. As tears poured out of my eyes, I felt a deep, guttural cry rise up and I spoke the only words that would come…

“Thank you. For all that you have done for me… thank you.”

Part Two:

When I opened my eyes next, my breath escaped my lips. Tears filled the corners of my eyes. I didn’t have to wonder what this place was. I knew it somewhere deep down in my soul. The feeling inside my spirit made this place feel so familiar. The rising emotion in my heart was so recognizable. Home. I was home.

Suddenly, I began to hear voices of people that I had said goodbye to long ago. Only now, it seemed like yesterday. They wrapped me up in their arms, one by one, as my brain struggled to register the experience. My heart leapt as my puppy, hearing the sound of my voice, came running into my arms. I crouched down to meet him as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I hugged friends and neighbors, family and even strangers, all eager to see me and welcome me to this place. The emotions were so overwhelming that it took what felt like forever for me to even notice the beauty of the place on which I was standing.

Cobblestone roads. Fields and fields of wildflowers calling me to run through them with wild, childlike joy. Rivers flowed through the valleys. Mountains stood regally in the distance, just waiting to be climbed. This place was everything that I had imagined and yet, so different, as well. I struggled to take it all in. It was all just so… beautiful.

Suddenly, my eyes darted from right to left as I spun around looking for Him. Where was He? How could this be? Heaven and no Jesus? I had waited for this moment for as long as I could remember. I had pictured it in my head over and over. But why could I not see Him? Why could He not be found?

I didn’t know that sadness existed on this side of Heaven, but it sure felt like sadness the way that my heart dropped the moment I realized my journey here did not include meeting with the One whom I loved the most. It’s like this long-awaited moment that you get yourself ready for, eager and nervous, stomach filled with excitement and butterflies, and then … Nothing.

All the air just deflated out of my balloon, and I was left feeling… empty. I felt empty. I distinctly remember the sadness in my dream. It was totally unexpected in this place but present none-the-less.

“I wanted to see Jesus,” I whispered in defeat.

Once again, the tears pricked my eyes.

“Patience, love. All will be revealed soon. Be patient. The time will come.”

Part Three:

In the next moment, the man and I were standing in an empty underground train station. I looked all around me, trying to understand where He had taken me now.

There were no other people, I observed. It was so quiet. Peaceful, almost, in a weird calming way. I felt certain that I was safe. In fact, it almost felt… comfortable. That was a strange feeling, I observed, considering the dimly lit and cold nature of my surroundings. Why did I feel suddenly comfortable?

There were empty train tracks to my right and my left. We stood there for what felt like minutes. Nothing moved. When I could take it no longer, I finally looked up at him, my face creased with question, readying myself to admit that I have no clue what this place is, nor do I understand why I felt oddly at peace in this dark, damp space. Just then, I heard the familiar rumble of an arriving train.

As I looked over my right shoulder, a single headlight appeared from the dark tunnel. Wind blew my hair as the train quickly moved past our position on the balcony, coming to a stop with the doors positioned just in front of my feet.

“Heaven” the digital sign over the doors read.

Heaven? What? Didn’t we just come from Heaven? I shook my head in confusion.

“Would you like to see?” asked the man, opening his arms as if to invite me for a ride.

I nodded and stepped in, half confused and half excited. There were plenty of seats available, as the train appeared to only hold the two of us, so I quickly found a spot near the door and settled in for the ride.

Where could this train possibly be taking us?

Why are we going back to Heaven?

What exactly is this part?

The rapid firing of questions pouring through my mind was suddenly interrupted by the loud chiming of the train’s intercom system. Within seconds, the doors closed and I could feel the train begin to pull forward. As I sat there pondering over all of the possibilities of where we were headed or what we were doing, I just couldn’t seem to make sense of any of it.

Heaven?

A train to Heaven?

What was I missing?

We traveled through darkness for a while before the intercom system chimed loudly again. Upon looking up, I realized that the train had ceased moving at some point in the journey without my even noticing. I must have been lost in my own thoughts, but for how long I wasn’t even sure. I turned and gazed out the window to my right and almost immediately, a great sadness began to pour over me.

The train had come to a stop in the middle of what appeared to be a dark field. There was just enough light that I could make out a few figures curled up next to the train. I squinted in the darkness, trying to get a better view.

They were… crying.

Some were shaking violently, seemingly with grief. Others were sunken down in the fetal position, as if they had given up and just laid there to die. Some were writhing in pain, twisting and turning, their eyes searching for help. While others sat motionless as the tears poured from their eyes. I could see it and feel it. Their pain was fully tangible and everything about this scene began to break something deep inside of me.

They were hurting. Something was hurting them. Something was attacking them. Something I couldn’t see had destroyed them and then left them there to die in this empty field. What was going on? What is this?

A desperation rose up in my chest. “Can we help them??” I asked as I turned to my chaperone. “Why would you bring me here to show me this?”

“Just watch,” the man replied, calmly. “Keep watching.”

As I looked back, suddenly others began to appear on the field. It didn’t take me long to realize that they were exiting train cars to my right and left. I hadn’t even noticed before this moment, but there they were, people riding the same train as me. And as I sat there and watched, desperately trying to understand what was going on, one by one, they continued to pour out. Only, something about these passengers was different. They had… color.

I had not realized it before, but the people in the field – They were grayscale in tone. I could only see them in black and white. But these people, the ones exiting the train, they had color. And as they walked, the color spread from their bodies, filling up the darkness with light.

I watched one woman in particular. I do not know why she caught my eye, but she just did. She walked straight towards a woman curled up on the ground. She wrapped her arms around her in what could only be described as the embrace of one who recognizes themselves in another. She wept with her and gently caressed her head with nurturing and loving hands.

As I stood there and watched her hold the woman with such love and compassion, something else began to catch my eye. I looked down, closer to the ground, and noticed that the woman’s feet began to suddenly change color. A pinkness appeared first. Then her skirt turned the most beautiful shade of blue. Her blouse, once gray in tone, turned white. Pure white.

The woman held on, almost desperately, soaking in every last drop of whatever this was that the train-goer had to give. And as I watched with awe, more questions began to flood my mind.

What is this that I’m seeing? How did she do that? What just happened?

Suddenly, the two women pulled apart. They smiled at each other, both of them having faces stained with tears. It seemed they recognized one another… But not in the way that one knows a friend. They recognized the healing in each other. They understood the journey in each other’s eyes. They saw the history of brokenness and the moment of breakthrough. Without saying a word, they knew that they had just shared… what?

My mind went blank.

What exactly had they just shared?

“Heaven,” the man on the train said, answering my unspoken question. “They just shared Heaven.”

“What do you mean?”

“The healing power of Heaven.”

The confusion must have been obvious on my face. I knew that Heaven carried healing powers, but what was this that I just witnessed? And who was the woman that I just watched embrace a stranger?

He must have noted my racing mind and scrunched face because He continued on with His explanation…

“Heaven can be stepped into every day.” He waved his hands around as if to suggest that he was speaking of the train that we had just boarded only moments earlier. “It’s a choice, an invitation. Heaven doesn’t just exist in the context of a final arrival, like the place we visited before. It exists all around us, in any, and every, given moment. We can reach out, touch it, pull it down, soak in it, and even pour it over another. Heaven is inhaled with every breath and exhaled in every release. Heaven is here… for the living.”

“Then why have I never seen it? Nor have I ever seen this train? I’m so confused.”

His reply was gentle, yet confident. “Faith often opens our senses to things we did not
previously know were there.”

As that thought passed through my mind, other questions began to rise within me. I sat there, silently wondering how many times the train had passed me by as I was completely unaware of the invitation that called my name. How many times had the doors opened to walk into something like what I had just witnessed? Something greater than my heart could imagine? Something miraculous and beautiful? How many times had I just seen the world in black and white, unaware of my power to carry light and healing into places of such utter pain and darkness? How many?

His voice interrupted my thoughts once more…

“Once you begin to see people through the windows of Heaven, you never really want to go back. Take that woman, for instance,” he said, while pointing at the two women, still holding hands, both of them now beautifully full of color.

“Perhaps you once defined that woman as someone who throws herself at married men? Maybe you saw her as repulsive? That’s how you defined her. By her shortcomings and flaws. But you see, that’s not the way that Heaven sees her. Heaven looks past every symptom and sees her pain. Think about it. When you saw her through these windows, you did not see her mistakes. You did not see her as the world sees her at all. You saw the child that God created and loves.”

Understanding began to register.

“But wait… Who was the woman on the train?” I asked. “The woman that helped her? And where did she come from?”

“That’s the best part, Shannon. She is just a girl that made the decision to get on the train today.”

The words hit some place deep in my spirit and I was left feeling completely rattled.

“And the light, the compassion, the love, the color, the healing touch… that was all… Heaven?” I asked.

“Yes. That’s the Heaven that she carried within her. The Heaven she carried was….” he paused. “… A piece of Him.”

My companion turned his face just as he finished the last part of that sentence. I suddenly saw something move out of the corner of my eye. Another Presence was now in the field. My entire face turned to take in what I was witnessing. It couldn’t be… could it? It was…

Jesus! Yes, it was Jesus!

He was walking among the sick and the hurting. He touched and embraced each one, slowly moving and reaching out. Just as I had imagined seeing so many times in my own mind, I watched as He moved among the people with such love… such deep love… and held them until they became whole with color again. It was so overwhelming that I became overcome with tears. Heavy sobs left my chest and poured out of me. This was the Jesus that I had so longed to see in Heaven. And here He was… walking among the broken. Healing and redeeming all whom He touched.

As I watched, I saw something else cross His face as His eyes caught the woman from the train. Joy, pride, and love. Deep, beautiful love. She looked up at Him and smiled before looking back at the woman with whom she had just embraced. Something inside her seemed to grow brighter. Without even touching her, it seemed Jesus had just given her a gift. She glowed. Her spirit seemed to dance. And as she gave the woman one last embrace, she whispered something into her ear. The woman, once broken and crying on the ground, now glowing and full of color, then turned and walked toward Jesus. In what could only be described as familiarity and pure love, He took her into His arms in the warmest embrace and gently kissed her forehead.

I looked back at the woman from the train. As she smiled and turned to walk back, I found myself smiling with her. This was all just too much to absorb. How incredible would it be to live a life like hers? How incredible would it be to ride this train every single day?

“She does.” my companion gently spoke. “She boards this train and waits for her next stop every day. She meets Him here, out on that field. It is her faith that guides her”

His words ran through my mind once more…

“She is just a girl that made the decision to get on the train today.”

The dream suddenly ended and I awoke completely wrecked.

Closing Out:

Have you ever heard someone say they were spiritually wrecked by something? This wrecked me in ways I still cannot explain. I remain unable, even today, to tell this dream without the tears just pouring.

I have shared this dream (all three parts) exactly as I can recall it/wrote it down and I pray that it speaks to you as deeply as it spoke to me.

Friend, you are invited every day to board the train. You carry the power to reach out, touch Heaven, pull it down, soak it in, and even pour it out over another. You are invited into an intimate relationship with God where you partner with Him in the carrying of His Spirit and soak in His utter delight in you. This is for you, my friend. This call. This invitation. This moment. It’s for you. Pray over it. Weep over it. Hunger for it. And step into it. HEAVEN IS FOR THE LIVING.

JUST A GIRL THAT DECIDED TO GET ON THE TRAIN, TODAY. << My prayer each and every day now.