I lost my purse.  I was dressed and on my way to church and couldn't find it anywhere.  I had my phone, so I gave up and drove without a driver's license to my church, and thought if I got picked up for some reason that surely a patrolman would understand. I don't know why I thought my phone would help.

Before I left, I mentally went through everywhere I had been for the last two days, and the last time I had my purse, I was in the car, going through the Brahms drive through for a hamburger on Friday night.  I didn't leave the house from Friday night to Sunday morning.

So here I am, sitting in church trying to concentrate on what the preacher is saying, and all I can think of is "Where is my purse?"  And since I am in the house of God, where better to send a petition to Him?  "I've lost my purse.  You know where it is, Father.  Can you help me find it?" I prayed.

And somewhere during the service, I began to think about a nightmare I had during the previous night.  I dreamed I was in a warehouse full of people that was on fire, and I was responsible to help get people out.  I was on the second or third floor balcony trying to get a man who was sweeping floors to get out before the smoke got him.  You know how dreams are, they don't make sense.

I woke up in the middle of the fire-dream.  It was 2:45 in the morning and in a sleep induced daze, I decided I should check my house.  What if God was warning me of something.  Everything was fine, but I picked up my purse and computer and took them to the bedroom and put them on the floor by the window so I could have them in case of fire and I needed to get out of the house.  Nothing makes sense at 3 in the morning when you aren't really awake. And I didn't remember any of it until God reminded me of what I did sleep walking in the night.  I found my purse.  I'm not having any more dreams that cause me to do something stupid that I don't remember doing the next day.