Since coming to MN I have been plagued (or blessed, or whatever) with crazy dreams. By crazy I mean that “whattheheck” usually is my first breath after waking up in the morning. By crazy I mean I’m even embarrassed to share them and admit that such things are floating around in my subconscious. Last night I dreamed that the Nazi party bombed High Point University’s campus, my alma matter. Except HPU was this mighty fortress. I had managed to have a vision of all this taking place before it happened and most of the dream was spent warning everyone I could that the place was gonna topple down. There were skeptics, and when the whole castle fell down, they were buried in the remains. Somehow the rest of the school was safely catapulted out of harms way, and the last thing I remember was Sister Clara, one of the nuns I am living with, driving me far away from the wreckage into what was surely greener grass.

I’ve been telling the Sisters and volunteers about each of my incredibly vivid dreams (I hardly remember my dreams, usually) and Clara immediately piped up and said it was probably all the coffee I’ve been drinking. The coffee is starkly different here in MN than it is on the east coast. Maybe it’s the water. Or God is speaking to me somehow, sending me subtle messages about rebuilding the Church like He did for Saint Francis almost a thousand years ago? But what could God be saying about the Nazi party? Should I warn United Nations about a potential uprising? I dunno. But I do know I’m gonna stop making joe after 7 o’ clock.

Tomorrow is my first day of work! I’m about a two minute bike ride from the Childrens’ Home, a place for physically and mentally battered youth to experience loving community. That’s about all I know about it. I’m biking over there sometime before noon to figure out the rest of my year there. We’re also spending one Wednesday a month at Place of Hope ministries, cooking and serving a community of hungry folks.

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