Friends, I returned to the temple this past week for the first time in over a year. I thought I might cry through the entire session—I’ve done that before—but I did not. Instead I felt joyful and at home: a deep, grateful peace. The temple worship drought has felt as punishing as any other pandemic effect to me. Whenever I have soul-wrenching problems, the temple is my solace, and to be without it for so long felt like God was one step farther away, like I had to work that much harder to encounter and be healed by the divine.
I wrote a poem about this last February:
It Has Been Nearly A Year Since the Last Time I Went to the Temple and It’s Driving Me Nuts
I used to enter tarnished,
grit behind my eyelids
from weeks of camping,
unwilling to bathe
or freezing lakes.
then emerge with sin and anger
filtered by charcoal rich blessings
to purge my sticky,
Lo, I have been wandering in
this wilderness too long. I am
Sasquatch now. I am Jim Bridger,
clad in leather made from pet peeves
and festering pain.
I am ready, Lord, to enter and savor
the light I used to claim
with entitled naivete.
Peel off these crusty grudges,
shatter and heal my heart.
Open wide the doors
lead me from my bitter
to thy gleaming,
freshly vacuumed home.
Have you been able to get back to the temple yet? Also pro tip: if you log on first thing in the morning, and keep checking back every morning, they sometimes have more open slots. I was able to schedule new appointments sooner than I had thought.
The image at the top is the artist’s rendering of the Lindon temple, which I’m very excited about.