The Temple

I used to work in a couple Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints temples, and I’ve had many sacred experiences within those walls.

I’ve felt spirits around me who were thankful for the work I was doing for them.

I’ve been an ordinance worker, a genealogist finding temple names, and I even helped with renovations and cleaning of the old St. George temple—which is the oldest temple in the LDS church. (I got to crawl UNDER the Baptistry on the red dirt! How many people can say that?!)

One of the most sacred experiences I’ve had—which I talk about extensively in my book Prelude in N Minor, is when the Provo Tabernacle burned down.

I had sung in the old building a couple of times in choir, and lived about 60 feet away from it for a few years during my first marriage, and I watched it burn down with shocked neighbors and firefighters.

Soon there was only a shell of the old walls standing.

And then my life fell apart.

Some time later, I was in the conference center when President Monson gave this announcement:

You could feel the electricity zooming through the crowd. I heard a story from I-forget-who, who said that he was bemoaning the old tabernacle burning down, and God clearly said, “Who are you to say I can’t renovate that old building into something better?”

I think humans are like that. God continually wants to bless us—even through tragedy—so that our lives will become something better. For instance, right now I’ve been on my stomach for the past week because I’ve got “no meat on them bones,” and I now have two pressure sores on my butt that will not heal unless I surrender…and be still.

Though this is still a tragedy for me, I know that there’s got to be a silver lining somewhere. If God could make sure the children of Israel’s clothing didn’t wear out, there’s got to be a good reason for my bottom wearing out at this time.

I can feel it in my (sit) bones.

Speaking of old bones…do something eternal for your ancestors. You’ll be glad you did.

And practice being still. I’ll be there with you, trying to renovate and reconnect and reconstruct my earthly tabernacle into a temple I’d want to be in, again.