Currently Listening Redemption Songs By Jars of Clay I'll Fly Away see related

Two nights ago I dreamed that I was standing in the middle of Dam Square in Amsterdam totally alone.  It was as if I had just been dropped off by someone, and then abandoned.  My senses were overloaded with people whizzing  past on bikes and on foot, vendors hawking their goods to American Tourists, wind whipping my hair into my eyes and mouth, and gay love demonstrations.  I was totally lost.

   I knew right where I was geographically, but internally I no idea.  I knew that I had come to Amsterdam to do a DTS, but where was the DTS?  I remembered seeing one of the leaders of the DTS on youtube saying "Please come.  We long to see you."  But where was he now?  I thought that God had called me to Amsterdam.  But it had all seemed so different back in the States.  I went over it again in my mind.  Yes, God had seemed to lead me to Amsterdam when I was praying in the comfort of my room. But where was he now?  Now, standing in the middle of Dam Square, the thought that God had called me here seemed ridiculous.

I suddenly got a surge of courage.  Maybe God hadn't led me here.  But then again, maybe he had.  How else could I have made it?  My geographical location almost proved that I wasn't alone in this.  If it were up to me, I would be working at Under the Sun in OK right now.  But I wasn't. I was in Dam Square.  There.  Wasn't that proof enough?

I started shouting.  Not caring who would hear, just hopping that someone would answer.  I yelled "OH DE KIRK?  OH DE KIRK?" (which in my dream was Dutch for "where's the church?")  Over and over and over again, the wind tossing my words throughout the Square.  I had been shouting for a few minutes, when suddenly a boy appeared out of nowhere.  The boy appeared to be a few years older than myself, and also appeared concerned about something.  With a quick, nervous glance he introduced himself as Pieter and told me in broken english that he would take me to "de kirk".  I had no choice but to follow. 

We walked quickly around the square and were about to leave it when I heard a voice calling my name.  "Rebekaaaahhhh....Rebekaaahhh"  the voice called.  Pieter continued, having no idea that my name was Rebekah, but I stopped and looked at the one who was calling my name.  She was a slight woman, with blond hair and a long skirt that the wind wrapped around her legs in this way and that.  In a low voice she said that she would take me to "de kirk".  Pieter heard that part and turned to protest.  But as he turned he saw it was speaking.  He seemed to know the woman, for all she said was "thank you very much Pieter.  That will be all." And he was off.  As he started to run away he whispered to me "Go with her.  That's Martha."  And then he was gone.

When Martha and I got to "de kirk" I was relived to find that most of the faces in the room were younger than myself.. I had thought that I would be the youngest.  Martha disappeared while I was seated at a long table with the others.  We were instructed to fill out the form in front of us. On it were spaces for our blood type, english name, slovak name, and dutch name.. We were to go predominantly by our slovak name during our time in Amsterdam, we were told.  I asked the girl next to me what her slovak name was.  " Well, my name is Patty Beuller, so I dropped Patty and added 'Bagel' on the end.  So now my name is Baller Bagel.  Nobody around here knows slovak anyway"  she replied.  I wrote down my english name, which was the only thing on the form I knew.  I was pondering what I wanted to be called for the duration of my stay when I woke up.