It was September 10, 2001. I stood in the terminal of the SeaTac Airport, saying goodbye to my dearest friend from middle and high school. I had just spent a week with her, attempting to heal from the pieces of a fresh break-up. I always loved to fly. I grew up traveling, as my Dad was in the military and we were always heading somewhere. I never grew tired of the thrill of being launched against all gravity, thousands of feet into the air.
This time was different.
As we approached the gate, a fear gripped me like nothing I had ever experienced. I began to feel panicked and I turned to my friend to tell her about this panic. She thought it unusual, as she had known me to also enjoy traveling. The grip of fear clamped tighter about me and I began to cry. I did not want to get on the plane. The fear was debilitating. I found myself momentarily frozen-grasping for an answer to why I was reacting in such a way to seemingly nothing.
Though I tried to linger there in the terminal, time was near and I had to get on the plane. The next morning I would be heading back to University. I had already missed my first day back to college, and I couldn’t afford to miss the next. I put on my brave face, not wanting to draw attention to myself from other passerby’s. Then my friend suggested that we pray. Being an unbeliever, I did not see the importance in her suggestion. At that particular point, however, I also did not feel the need to object. If she thought something would help me get on that plane, then I was willing to agree with her.
After she led us in a prayer, I hesitantly boarded the airplane. The fear was still fresh around me. The airplane was smaller than the previous plane I had taken. I settled into my seat, strapped on my seatbelt, and took a deep breath. Immediately, without hesitation or warning, I saw something like a scene playing out before me. Several men got on the airplane, holding what appeared to be knives, then confronted the pilot, threatening and demanding to take control of the plane. The scene disappeared.
I was confused and perplexed. Though it only last a few moments, I was startled and fully convinced that I should never share that with anyone. I thought I had lost my mind. I had never experienced anything like this before. It was an experience that I did not know how to explain. Was it a daydream, or a dream? I wasn’t asleep, I tried to understand what just happened, but could not. I officially deemed myself undoubtedly ridiculous and decided not to tell anyone for fear that they would think I had officially “lost it”.
I did hope, however, that my plane would land safely. It did.
The next morning as I drove down the road to school, the events of September 11, were being broadcast over my car radio. I did not make the connection to what happened on the plane until much later. That Wednesday, September 12, 2001, I went to church after being invited. I gave my heart to Jesus, knowing that He was the only one I could call on to save me.
After years of studying the Word, and after several more supernatural encounters with the Lord, I began to understand that no Christian, or person for that matter, should be surprised to have, dreams, visions, or to prophesy. This is the plan of the Father for people who are alive in the last day:
Acts 2:17 says, “In the last days, God said, I will pour out my spirit upon ALL people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams. In those days I will pour out my Spirit upon all my servants, men and women alike, and they will prophesy.”
In this passage, Peter was speaking to a crowd who were drawn around Him and the other believers who were gathered on the day of Pentecost. He repeated the prophecy that was originally recorded in the book of Joel. He declared that the prophecy was being fulfilled before their very eyes, and we know that it is still being fulfilled today. Dreams, visions, prophesy have existed then, and they continue to be a reality now, some 2,000 years later.
This shouldn’t strike any Christian as unusual. The Bible admonishes us to remember that the Lord operates on a heavenly timeline. “But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day” (2 Peter 3:8).
I am not sure why it is not more understood in the body of Christ today, but I am thankful that God still speaks through His word, through His Holy Spirit, and through dreams and visions. Our God is a mighty God, one who so wonderfully and mightily grants us access to such things in part, as pieces of a puzzle.
The word declares, “Now we know only a little, and even the gift of prophecy reveals little!” (1 Cor. 13:9) Although things we understand are little pieces of an enormous picture, I am grateful that God is communicating today and getting the attention of people who are not even yet believers. May the name of Jesus be lifted up so that He can draw people unto Himself!