I was living deep in the Monongahela Forest in West Virginia when these visions started to come to me. Dreams mysterious. Dreams serpentine. Dreams cosmically increate. There, in the remote and impossibly rugged mountains, like some ancient hermit, walking up one mountain then another. Past one crystalline stream, a felled Paw Paw, a chanting Mourning Warbler.
A logger had said to me there was a church in the distance where worshippers dance around with and lift up deadly Timber Rattlesnakes and Copperheads. I knew from my dreams that I would have to go find them. I quit my work immediately and the first service I walked into was on May 27, 2012. It would be their pastor's last day on Earth.
