My journey to Mother began one afternoon when I asked Abigalé, my soul, if we could travel. Can you take us somewhere? My eyes were shut against the daylight that filled our room. All at once the darkness behind my eyelids turned black—then blacker still. I was not afraid, but excited. I had seen this strange phenomenon more than once. “The black,” I had learned, is the gate to Mother, the Holy Spirit.
While I lounged in my bed, eyes still closed, Abbey’s high-pitched tone chimed my left ear. I felt a subtle lurch. It seemed as though we were moving.
