Fish Dream
Rick and I were sightseeing with a group of people when someone caught a remarkable fish — unlike anything either of us had ever seen. It looked like something out of Avatar: shimmering silver, with stunning blues and purples that seemed almost otherworldly.
The fish had three distinct sections. The top section had multiple antenna-like protrusions — not two like a typical antenna, but several, fanning out in layers. The middle section was shaped like the body of a fish — or even a boat — with three rounded bumps running across the top, curving like mountain peaks or a camel's humps, each topped with a smooth ball shape that flowed naturally from the peak. The bottom section hung below the middle, connected by more of those antenna-like structures, and ended in a flat, fan shape — like the tail of a whale.
Everyone in the group was passing it around, taking turns holding this extraordinary fish. When they got to me, I declined. "No thank you," I said. They pressed me: "You have to hold it." But I held my ground — I just wanted them to hold it still so I could photograph it for Instagram. "That's all I need," I told them. Rick felt the same. We weren't interested in holding it ourselves. We just wanted the shot, and then we'd move on.
Later in the dream, we were still sightseeing when we arrived at a hotel. A sense of danger crept in — there were robbers or thugs nearby. I have a vague memory of handcuffs, but we were eventually set free. End of dream.
Interpretation
The moment I woke up, the Lord's message was already clear and spoke straight to my heart.
The fish is a symbol of the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Three sections. Three bumps on the middle section. Two sets of three, layered in the same image — for me, that kind of repetition is God's way of underscoring something spiritual. Fish in Scripture also represents believers and the call to be "fishers of men" (Matthew 4:19). I am a believer. This fish was, in part, a picture of God himself — and of me.
The bump that broke off wasn't random. It pointed to the brokenness of Christ — broken for my sins, for all of ours.
"But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed."
— Isaiah 53:5; see also 1 Peter 2:24
And yet, when offered the chance to hold this beautiful, sacred thing — I said no. I just wanted the photo.
That's where it landed for me. I love photography when I travel. But if I'm being honest, I don't approach every sight with the same reverence. Some things I capture quickly — snap, maybe twice, and move on. It's only the iconic landmarks, the ones I've longed to see, where I'll take hundreds of shots and linger as long as I can.
God used that habit to ask me a harder question: Do I treat Him the same way? Am I rushing through my devotions just to check the box — getting "the photo" of a quiet time without really being present? Am I showing up to church or prayer to say I was there, without truly encountering Him while I'm there? Am I more concerned with what I'll share than with what I actually received?
I don't like tour groups for exactly this reason: they rush you through beauty so fast you barely see it. I've always said I don't want that kind of life. But this dream showed me that while travelling, I was getting far too comfortable with my photo-moments with God — at least in some areas.
I want to continue walking in a relationship with Christ that lingers. One where I take in every angle — His Word more deeply, His character more fully, His still small voice more attentively. Not a photo-moment faith. A real one.
There was another layer too. When I woke up, I knew God was asking me to delete my game apps. I'd been spending too much idle time on my phone — not necessarily during devotions, but in the margins of my day. Waiting rooms, evenings when Rick and I are watching TV, those quiet moments that used to be filled with something more. My mind had grown more scattered, and I believe this was part of why.
I'd had good excuses. I have a light sensitivity disorder that can trigger seizures, so when strobe-heavy scenes appear on screen, I look away — and my phone became the default. But somewhere along the way, games replaced books. Scrolling replaced stillness. And I'd been feeling that nudge from God to stop — and ignoring it. This dream was the push I needed.
I don't think I'm alone in this. Most of us already know the one thing we need to reorder to draw closer to God. The step isn't complicated. It's just taking it.
On the day I had this dream, I spotted a sign on Penang Hill in Malaysia that read: "Go fast, see nothing." It stopped me. That's exactly what I was doing in the dream — rushing past the most extraordinary thing in the room just to get my shot.
Was I really seeing Jesus? Or just photographing Him?
Reflection
1. Do you have "photo-moment" relationships with Christ?
Don't rush your prayer. Don't skim your devotions. Give yourself enough time to actually encounter Him — not just check in.
2. How does your phone use affect your relationship with God?
Not just during devotions — but in the margins. What fills your idle moments?
3. Are you walking with God when no one is watching?
Does He get your best, or just what's left after the scrolling, the posts, and the games?
What I share can inspire others. But what I live is what truly matters. Who I live for is what matters for eternity.
“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.
”
Go fast, see nothing
What I share can inspire others, but what I live is what truly matters. Who I live for is what matters for eternity.
“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”
