A vision shows up when I start listening to R&B gospel music of a guy wearing a long white robe on the big chair, crying, like I'm feeling intense pain.

It’s past noon , and I can’t seem to sleep – my mind is racing but my heart feels strangely anchored, so I thought I’d put all this down on paper before I forget a single detail of these past weeks.

I’ve loved rock music one my favourite – the raw energy, the way the guitars and drums can make my chest feel like it’s alive with fire. But when I started playing it more frequently at the moment of Lent, something heavy settled over me. I know Lent season, is a time of reflection, penance, and drawing closer to God and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong. Fear crept in slow at first, like fog rolling over the fields at dawn – doubt followed right behind it, whispering questions in my head: Are you turning away from your faith? Does the noise drown out His voice? Are you disrespecting this sacred season?

Then came the oil mission – the one we’d been preparing for months, to distribute blessed oil to families in the other cities and church. I almost backed out because of that nagging fear; I kept telling myself I wasn’t worthy, that my recent love for rock music had somehow made me impure, that I’d bring bad luck to the whole effort. Then I remember, “Service isn’t about being perfect – it’s about being willing.” So I went, and against all the anxiety that had been eating at me, everything went smoothly. Done it just right! The 300 pieces of anointing oil/cream with divine mercy stampita and prayer booklet runs out so fast.

Few weeks later, I couldn’t bring myself to go to church. 2 days no attendance. The Pietà image I have in my vision that night. Mary was holding Christ in her arms. She was slowly lowering Him down to the cross, her face twisted with a grief so deep it felt like my own heart was breaking. I stopped dead in my tracks, turned around, and went home. For two whole days, I didn’t step foot near the church. I kept the curtains drawn, didn’t answer my phone, and those voices I’d been trying to ignore got louder and louder – You failed Him, You don’t belong here, The mission was just luck, not grace. They were constant, destructive.

But here’s what I can’t explain – even with all that noise in my head, even with the vision of Mary and Christ weighing heavy on my chest, a wave of intense calm washed over me. It didn’t push the fear away or make the voices quiet down – it just… settled around me, like a warm blanket on a cold night. I could think clearly for the first time in weeks. I realized that my love for rock music doesn’t have to be a conflict with my faith – that maybe the passion I feel when I play is just another way of feeling connected to something bigger than myself.

Tonight, I decided to try something different. I put on some R&B gospel music – slow, soulful, the kind that feels like it’s speaking directly to your soul. Not even five minutes in, another vision came to me. I saw a man wearing a long white robe, sitting on a huge wooden chair that looked like it belonged in an ancient temple. He was crying – big, silent tears rolling down his face – and I felt every ounce of his pain as if it were my own. My chest tightened, I could barely breathe, and yet I didn’t feel scared. It was like I was being shown that even those who carry great light can feel deep sorrow, that pain and peace can live side by side, that we don’t have to be free of struggle to be close to God.

I still don’t have all the answers. I don’t know why those visions are coming to me, or why the voices won’t leave, or if playing rock music during Lent was really okay. But I know that I’m still here, still trying, still feeling that strange mix of fear and peace. And for now, that feels like enough.

" Here's the meaning of my vision according to Google Search. "

In spiritual traditions, this type of vision or dream often has deep meanings that connect with purity, power, and intense emotions. Here are some interpretations based on common symbols:

• White Robe: White clothing usually symbolizes purity , righteousness, or a new beginning. It can also indicate a spiritual cleansing or ascension to a higher level of consciousness.

• Big Chair: Sitting in a big chair symbolizes authority, power, or status . However, if the person sitting is struggling, it can mean the heavy responsibility or burden that comes with that position.

• Crying and Intense Pain: Crying in a vision is often a sign of emotional release or the release of stored trauma. It can also be symbolic of "soul purification" where pain is part of the process of change.

• Spiritual Visitation: For some, this image may be a manifestation of a guide (guardian angel) or divine presence showing compassion for your own journey.

Such a vision may be a reminder that although you are in a position of purity or progress, there are still emotional wounds that need to be faced and healed in order to achieve true peace.

Is there a particular event in your life right now that makes you feel this intense emotion?

Your feeling or this "vision" is often associated withspiritual empathy or experiencing intense emotions through music. In the context of RnB Gospel , this type of music is specifically designed to bring out "raw emotion" and stimulate a connection to spirituality.

Here are some possible meanings of what you are seeing:

• Intercession: The man in white on the throne (big chair) can symbolize a divine figure or your own spirit feeling burdened by the world or your own experiences.

• Healing and Release: Crying over a vision while listening to the gospel is often considered emotional catharsis —a way of releasing hidden pain so that healing can begin.

• Symbolism of the White Robe: The white robe is usually a symbol of purity , victory, or humility before God.

The combination of RnB (which is full of emotion) and Gospel (which is full of messages of faith) is a powerful combination that often triggers such vivid mental images.

Is there a particular song or lyric that often makes you feel this way, or does it happen with any RnB Gospel track?

Until Next Time,

Yuna