Why You Dream of Someone Who Died – Pope Leo XIV’s Spiritual Insights | Noble Spirit

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night, your heart pounding, tears streaming down your face because you dreamed of someone who has long been gone from this earth? Have you ever felt the warmth of their presence in that dream so real, so vivid that when you opened your eyes, it was as if the world itself stood still? My dear friends, when you dream of someone who passed away, it is no accident, no random flicker of the mind.

It is a holy moment. It is the stirring of your soul, a divine echo calling you to something deeper, something more eternal. In that sacred hour, when the world is asleep and your soul is awake, the veil between this world and the next seems to thin, and you are granted a glimpse, a whisper from eternity.

Perhaps you've dreamed of your mother who spent her last days in prayer. Perhaps you've seen your father. Perhaps it was a friend, a child, or a grandparent whose absence left an ache in your heart that time has never healed.

When you dream of the departed, my friends, it is not merely memory at play. It is a moment of spiritual visitation, a brush with the eternal. Scripture is filled with holy encounters in the night.

In Job 33:14 and 15, we read, "For God speaks once, yes, twice, yet man perceives it not. " In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls upon men, in slumberings upon the bed, then he opens the ears of men and seals their instruction. Drams are God's gentle classroom.

They are the language of heaven's instruction. When the dead appear in our dreams, God is opening our hearts to mysteries. We are often too busy, too distracted, or too afraid to hear in the light of day.

Think of Jacob, who dreamed of the ladder, reaching to heaven, angels ascending and descending upon it. Or of Joseph, whose dreams not only shaped his destiny, but the destiny of nations. Or of the wise men warned in a dream not to return to Herod, or of Joseph, the husband of Mary, who in a dream was told to take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt.

God uses the nighttime, the stillness, the vulnerability of our resting minds to speak his truth into our lives. When you dream of someone who has passed is a moment to pause, to listen, to open the ears of your heart to what the Lord is saying. But why, you ask, would God allow these dreams?

Why would the memory of the dead come alive in our sleep, bringing with it joy and sorrow, comfort, and longing? My beloved, it is because love does not die. Death may steal the breath from our bodies, but it cannot steal the eternal bond of love that God himself has woven into the fabric of our soul.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13 that love once given, once rooted in the soul, transcends the grave.

When you dream of a departed loved one, you are touching that eternal bond. It is God's reminder that their story is not over, that your relationship is not lost, but merely changed. It is a sign that their soul is alive in God's presence, and that in Christ, the living and the dead are forever united.

I am the resurrection and the life. Jesus declared in John 11:25, "He who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live. " This is not mere poetry.

It is the promise that those who have died in the Lord are not gone, but more alive than ever, wrapped in the glory of God's presence. I know some of you carry heavy hearts. The weight of grief can feel like a chain around your soul.

But I tell you, these dreams are God's way of unshackling that chain of reminding you that the separation is only for a season. The dream is a divine invitation to remember, to honor, and to hope. It is a window into the communion of saints, a holy fellowship that defies the finality of the grave.

When you wake from such a dream, do not dismiss it. Do not brush it off as the mind's wandering. Instead, let it be a moment of prayer.

Let it be a moment to whisper their name to God, to thank him for the gift of their life and the imprint of their love on your soul. Let it be a moment to recommmit your life to the eternal truths they held dear. Let it be a moment to remember that you too are a traveler in this world and that one day by God's mercy you will join that great cloud of witnesses who have gone before.

These dreams are a call to live with eternity in your sight. They are a call to remember that your life is but a breath that the things of this world will fade. But the love you give, the faith you hold, and the hope you carry will echo in eternity.

In Hebrews 12:1, we read, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and stin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. " Uh, your loved ones who have gone before are part of that cloud. They are cheering you on from the realms of glory.

Their voices joining the great chorus of saints who long to see you finish your race with faithful n. Let me tell you a story. Years ago, a woman in my congregation told me she had lost her husband after 40 years of marriage.

She was broken, inconsolable. But one night, she dreamed of him. In the dream, he stood at the edge of a great river, his face radiant with peace.

He smiled at her and said, "Do not weep for me, my love. I am home. " When she woke, her pillow was wet with tears, but her heart was flooded with a piece she had not known since he passed.

My friends, that dream was no random occurrence. It was a holy consolation, a message from beyond the veil that her beloved was safe in the arms of God. Perhaps you have known such dreams.

Perhaps you have felt the brush of a hand that is no longer here. The echo of a voice that once spoke life into your soul. In those dreams, God is telling you, "They are with me and I am with you.

" Fear not. Do not let the world's cynicism rob you of this holy. The world will say, "It's just your imagination.

But the eyes of faith see deeper. Faith sees that God is the Lord of the living and the dead and that in his love. When you dream of the dead, it is also a summons to examine your own soul.

Death is a mirror that forces us to confront the brevity of life. Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom. The psalmist prayed in Psalm 912, "These dreams are God's gentle way of turning your gaze from the fleeting shadows of this world to the light of eternity.

They are a holy warning, a call to live, not for the moment, but for the kingdom that cannot be shaken. Some of you have been carrying bitterness, old wounds that have festered in your heart. When you dream of the dead, it may be God's invitation to forgive, to let go, to release the chains that bind you to the past.

Forgiveness is not a denial of the pain you suffered. It is an act of faith, a trust that God is the judge and that he will heal what you cannot. In Matthew 5:23, Jesus said, "If you are offering your gift at the altar and then remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift first.

Be reconciled to your brother. " Even if your brother is gone from this earth, reconciliation can still be found in the quiet places of your heart, in the prayers you whisper in the night. These dreams also remind us of the communion of saints, that glorious mystery of faith.

We are not alone in this journey. We are surrounded by those who have run their race and now rests in the embrace of God. When you dream of the dead, it is as if heaven itself is reaching down to pull you closer to remind you that this life is not the end.

In Revelation 21:4, we read of that day when he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more. Neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. The dream is a foretaste of that day, a glimpse of the glory that awaits.

My dear brothers and sisters, understand this. When you dream of someone who's passed away, it is also a summons to trust in the mercy of God. It is a call to remember that the souls of the departed rest in his hands and his mercy is beyond what we can fathom.

In the depths of our grief and our longing, we must never forget the words of Psalm 13. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us.

If God's mercy is that vast, then we can trust that he is tending to the souls of those who have gone before us. Tending to their wounds, bringing them into the radiance of his light. There are some of you listening now who carry regret like a wound that will not heal.

You wonder if you said enough, if you loved enough, if you did enough before that final farewell. You wonder if the last words you spoke were too sharp, if the last hug you gave was too hurried. In those dreams, my friend, God is giving you a chance to release that burden.

He is whispering to your soul, "I am the God who heals what you cannot, who redeems what you thought was lost. " The dream is not a cruel reminder of your failings. It is a divine comfort, a promise that in the kingdom of God, there is no unfinished story, no love left unspoken.

The Lord binds up the brokenhearted, and he will bind up your heart, too. I tell you, these dreams are not merely a bridge to the past. They are a bridge to the future.

They are a reminder that the dead are not lost to us, but rather that they wait for us in the presence of the lamb who was slain. Revelation 14:13 says, "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for their deeds follow them, the work they began in faith, the prayers they whispered in the night, the acts of love they carried out in secret, all of it echoes on, rippling through eternity. " When you dream of them, it is as if God is pulling back the curtain to show you that their story and yours is woven into the grand tapestry of his kingdom.

And oh, what a kingdom it is. A kingdom where the saints rejoice. Where every tear is turned to laughter.

Where the radiance of God's glory makes the sun itself seem pale. When you dream of the dead, you are brushing up against that kingdom. Feeling the shimmer of eternity.

Let that fill you with holy awe, with a sense that this life is not all there is. You were made for so much more than the fleeting shadows of this world. You were made for glory, for communion with the one who is love itself.

Hear me now because this is not just poetic language. It is the very promise of the gospel. In John 14, our Lord said, "In my father's house are many rooms.

I go to prepare a place for you. " When you dream of the departed, it is as if you catch a glimpse of those rooms, those mansions of light where they now dwell. Do not let the darkness of this world blind you to that promise.

Do not let the cynicism of a weary world steal that hope from your heart. When you dream of someone who has passed away, it is a clarion call to anchor your life in that promise. For some of you, these dreams are also a gentle prod from God to remember that death is not the final word.

Too often we live as if this world is all there is. Clinging to our possessions, our titles, our fleeting pleasures. But these dreams remind us that we are but pilgrims here.

They remind us that we must live as those who are passing through, holding loosely to the things of earth, clinging fiercely to the things of heaven. Colossians 3:2 urges us, "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. Let the memory of those who have gone before turn your heart to the things that last, the treasures of heaven that neither rust nor moth can destroy.

These dreams also speak to us of reconciliation. Sometimes those who visit us in dreams are the very ones with whom we have had the most painful conflicts. Perhaps you lost someone before you could mend the rift, before the wound of your argument could heal.

And now you see them in the night, their face soft with peace, their eyes no longer clouded by hurt. In that dream, God is teaching you that his grace is bigger than your failures. He's inviting you to lay down your pride, to forgive as you have been forgiven, to trust that he is weaving even your broken relationships into a story of redemption.

Do you remember what our Lord said as he hung upon the cross? Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. If the Son of God could speak those words in the face of betrayal and cruelty, how much more can we, his followers, release the bitterness in our hearts?

These dreams are God's gentle nudge to let go of the burdens that hold you back from running the race of faith with freedom and joy. Let me tell you, my beloved, there is a fierce tenderness in the way God uses these dreams. He knows how to pierce our hearts with memories that heal instead of hurt, with visions that lift us out of despair and into hope.

He knows how to use even the silent language of dreams to speak words of life to our souls. In Joel 2:28, the prophet declared, "And shall come to pass afterward that I will pour out my spirit on all flesh. Your old men shall dream dreams and your young men shall see visions.

This is the promise of a God who never stops speaking, never stops reaching, never stops loving his children, even through the quiet hours of the night. When you wake from these dreams, do not simply brush them aside. Kneel in prayer.

Ask the Lord what he is saying to your heart. Let the dream be a starting point for deeper surrender, for deeper trust, for a life that radiates the love of the one who conquered death itself. Let it lead you to repentance where there is sin, to gratitude where there has been despair, to hope where there has been despair.

For we are not a people who grieve without hope. We are people who believe in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. We believe in a love that is stronger than the grave.

A love that was sealed with the blood of the lamb in the empty tomb of Easter morning. When you dream of someone who has died, you are touching that promise, that hope, that victory. And oh, how this world needs that hope.

We live in a time of noise and confusion, of endless distractions and shallow entertainments. The world would have you believe that death is the end, that grief is a pit with no bottom. But in these dreams, God is breaking through the clamor of this world to remind you of the eternal realities that never fade.

He's calling you to stand firm, to live as those who know that the best is yet to come. And do not let these dreams frighten you. Let them fill you with courage.

Let them remind you that you are a child of eternity. That the same God who raised Jesus from the dead is holding you and the ones you have loved in his mighty hands. Let them stir in you a fierce determination to live each day with faith and love to cherish the moments you are given to honor the memories of those who have gone before by living a life that shines with the light of Christ.

And I say to you, let this not be a mere emotional staring that fades with the morning light. Let it be a summons to wake from your spiritual slumber, to rouse your soul to the great calling of your faith. For in these dreams, there is an echo of God's eternal voice.

A voice that says, "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you. " Ephesians 5:14. When you dream of someone who has passed away, it is a divine trumpet blast in the night, urging you to rise, to live as one who carries the light of the resurrection in every breath and every step.

Beloved, understand this profound mystery. God is always working to draw us deeper into his life, even through the tender memories of those who have left this earth. These dreams are not merely for nostalgia.

They are invitations to transformation. When you see that familiar face in your sleep, do not linger only on the loss. Slinger on the lesson.

Let it remind you that life is fragile, fleeting, and therefore precious. Let it drive you to love with greater fervor. To speak words of kindness that might otherwise remain unspoken, to forgive with the urgency of those who know that tomorrow is never guaranteed.

This is not a call to fear but to freedom. To live each day as if it is a gift from the father above because it is to treat each soul you meet as a beloved child of God because they are. These dreams are heaven's reminder that every person who crosses your path is an eternal soul, a living icon of the one who created them.

When you remember those who have passed on, let it stir in you a holy reverence for every soul still here beside you. And if the dreams bring you sorrow, if they stir up grief that feels too deep to bear, let that sorrow drive you to the foot of the cross. For it is there in the shadow of Calvary that we see the ultimate answer to the pain of separation.

It is there that the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world bore the weight of death and conquered it once for all. For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16.

That is the foundation of our hope, the bedrock beneath our trembling hearts. So let these dreams make you bold in your faith. Let them remind you that the same Jesus who called Lazarus from the grave is still calling us out of the tombs of fear and despair.

Let them awaken in you a fierce determination to live as those who believe that death has no sting, that the grave has no victory, because Christ has triumphed. Let them call you to be a witness to that victory, a living testimony to the world that there is more to life than what we see with our eyes. Brothers and sisters, hear me.

When you dream of those who have passed, it is also a reminder that the church is bigger than what you see on Sunday mornings. We are part of the communion of saints, a great cloud of witnesses who surround us, cheering us on as we run the race of faith. Hebrews 12:1 says, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.

Those who have gone before are not lost to us. They are with us closer than we know, interceding for us, urging us to press on toward the prize of the upward call of God in Christ. And in those dreams, you may feel the brush of their prayers, the warmth of their love still flowing through the veil that separates us from eternity.

Let that inspire you to live with greater purpose, to run your race with steadfast faith and unwavering devotion. For the day is coming when we will stand together in the presence of God and every tear will be wiped away and every sorrow will be turned to joy. Let me speak to those of you who feel the weight of these dreams like a heavy cloak upon your shoulders.

Perhaps the memories they stir up are tangled with guilt or shame, things left undone, words left unsaid. Beloved, bring that weight to the one who said, "Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. " Matthew 11:28.

Lay it down at his feet, and let him wash you clean. For there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1.

The God who knows the depths of your soul is also the God who forgives, who restores, who makes all things new. And to those who feel a holy stirring in these dreams and urge to pray, to seek, to draw closer to the heart of God, do not ignore that call. Do not let it be a passing feeling that fades with the dawn.

Let it drive you to your knees to open the scriptures to pour out your heart to the Lord who loves you with an everlasting love. Let it be the catalyst for a deeper walk with him. A walk that leaves behind the shallow distractions of this world and plunges into the depths of his mercy.

These dreams are a call to live as those who know that life is but a breath, but eternity is forever. They are a summons to live in the light of that eternal day when we will see our loved ones again, not in the fragile images of a dream, but face to face in the glory of God. And until that day comes, let these dreams be a reminder to live with eyes fixed on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, the one who holds the keys of death and hell, and who promises that those who believe in him will never truly die, but will live forever in his kingdom.

Rise from the ashes of regret and fear. Rise in the power of the spirit who raised Jesus from the dead. Let every dream of the departed be a spark that sets your soul ablaze with the fire of faith.

A fire that no sorrow can quench and no darkness can overcome. For you are called to be a beacon of hope in a world that has forgotten what it means to hope. You are called to be a living testament to the truth that death is not the end but only the doorway to a life that knows no end.

Beloved, let the presence of those who have crossed from this world into eternity remind you that this life is not merely about survival, but about surrender. Surrendering to the one who holds the keys of life and death. Let these dreams be a clarion call to examine your heart, to lay down every idol that would keep you from the fullness of life in Christ.

For the voices of the departed are not meant to tether you to the past, but to propel you into the future that God has prepared for you. As Paul writes in Philippians 3:13:14, "Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let the echoes of these dreams be the wind at your back, urging you to run with renewed vigor, to live with a heart unencumbered by regret and a spirit emboldened by divine purpose.

These dreams are also an invitation to enter more deeply into the mystery of God's kingdom. A kingdom that transcends death. A kingdom that is both already here and not yet fully revealed.

When you see those who have gone before you in your dreams, you are touching the hem of eternity, tasting the glory of a kingdom where every tribe and tongue will gather to worship the lamb who was slain. Let it stir within you a longing for that day. And let that longing shape how you live today.

Let it cause you to hunger and thirst for righteousness, to walk in humility and mercy, to live as an ambassador of a kingdom that cannot be shaken. In these sacred visitations, there is also a gentle but firm warning. Do not be lulled into the sleep of indifference.

Do not waste the precious days God has granted you on trivial pursuits or empty pleasures. For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and yet lose his soul? Mark 8:36.

Let the memory of those who have passed be a mirror reflecting back to you the urgency of living fully. And every breath is a gift. Every heartbeat is an opportunity to glorify the one who gave it.

Let these dreams awaken in you a holy urgency, a resolve to live each moment as if it were your last, because one day it will be. Yet, even in the midst of this holy urgency, remember that God's love is never hurried, never frantic. It is steady, eternal, and patient.

Let these dreams lead you not to panic, but to peace. A peace that comes from knowing that your times are in his hands. Psalm 31:15.

The same God who knit you together in your mother's womb, who numbered the hairs on your head, has also numbered your days, and he is working all things together for your good. Romans 8:28. 20.

Trust him with your past, trust him with your present, and trust him with the eternity that awaits you. And let these dreams be a gentle nudge toward reconciliation. If there are wounds in your relationships, if there are words left unspoken, or forgiveness left unoffered, let the memory of those who have passed remind you that love is always worth the risk.

Do not let pride or fear hold you back from mending what is broken. For blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God. Matthew 5:9.

Let the faces that visit you in the night teach you to value every soul in the light of eternity. Above all, let these dreams draw you into deeper communion with the Lord himself. For he is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end.

Revelation 22:13. In him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17.

and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5. The dreams of the departed are but a shadow of the true communion we have in Christ.

The one who said, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live. " John 11:25.

In him death itself has been swallowed up in victory. In him you have been given the power to face every trial, every sorrow, every fleeting joy with a heart that is anchored in eternity. So when you close your eyes tonight and find yourself in the company of those who have gone before, do not fear.

Do not let your heart be troubled. Instead, let it be a moment of holy encounter, a fleeting glimpse of the great reunion that awaits all who trust in the Lord. Let it strengthen your faith, sharpen your focus, and fill your soul with the hope that cannot be shaken.

For he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23. And he will bring to completion the good work he has begun in you.

Philippians 1:6. And when the morning comes, rise up with a spirit ablaze, determined to live in the light of eternity. Let every act of love, every word of kindness, every prayer of faith be offered as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.

Romans 12:1. For you are a vessel of his glory, a bearer of his light. And though the world may forget, heaven never will.

Let these dreams be a whisper of that eternal memory, a glimpse of the great story of redemption that is being written in your life and in the lives of those you love. Beloved, this is not the end. This is only the beginning.

Let these dreams fill you with a holy fire. A fire that burns away the dross of complacency and refinances the gold of your faith. Let them be a summons to rise, to stand firm in the Lord, to press on with the courage of those who know that death is not the final word.

For in Christ, life conquers death and love endures forever. Beloved, as you journey forward from this moment, let every dream of those who have passed be a clarion called to live in the light of eternity. Let it awaken in you a holy hunger for the presence of the Lord, a relentless pursuit of his heart that no earthly distraction can satisfy.

Let it stir within you the unwavering conviction that nothing, no power of hell, no scheme of man, not even death itself, can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:30 through39. Let it compel you to lay aside every weight, every sin that so easily entangles, and run with perseverance the race marked out for you, fixing your eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of your faith.

Hebrews 12:12. Let this moment be the turning point, the sacred threshold where you resolve to live not for yourself, but for the one who died and was raised again on your behalf. Pope Corinthians 5:15.

Let it be the hour when you declare, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. " Joshua 24:15. Let the echoes of these dreams propel you into the fullness of the calling God has placed upon your life.

a calling to be a light in the darkness, a vessel of mercy, a living testament to his unfailing love. Let your heart be unwavering in devotion, your spirit ablaze with his holy fire. Stand firm in the knowledge that the God who called you is faithful, and he will sustain you until that glorious day when faith becomes sight and every tear is wiped away.

Revelation 21:4, "Let the memory of those who have gone before you be a constant reminder that this life is but a vapor. And what truly matters is not what we possess, but how we have loved and obeyed the one who holds eternity in his hands. " So rise up, child of God.

Lift your eyes to the hills, for your help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121 through 12. Let every dream of the departed be a seed planted deep within your soul.

A seed that bears fruit in the form of a life surrendered to Christ. A heart made whole by his mercy and a faith that endures to the end. And when the final breath comes, may you hear those words that echo across time and eternity.

Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord. Matthew 25:23.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.