I Love To See The Temple

June 19, 2009

I was fortunate to be invited to attend a wedding for a blushing bride and dear old friend of our family. I know it may seem odd when people discuss the weather at weddings, but I have to say that the day could not have been more perfect. The rain had stopped for the first time in two weeks, and the sun was a glorious star in the midday sky. The temperature was perfectly comfortable, and the heat from the sun's rays not only warmed and tantalized my Vitamin D deprived skin, it warmed my entire being. As my sister and I stood in the courtyard after a beautiful ceremony, we reminisced about our own parents' wedding 21 years ago this June 25th. This was their second wedding (for all of you who are quickly subtracting my age from their marital years). Due to the chronological order of events, I was not present at their first wedding, although my parents did bring my sisters and me to visit St. Anthony of Padua Cathedral in New Bedford, Massachusetts, a few years later.



Even as a young child, I was impressed by the Michelangelo-esque sculptures, breathtaking stained glass windows, and impeccable attention to detail in which the French Renaissance cathedral was created. It was obvious that this cathedral is New England's crown jewel, draped in a rich history welcoming many a Portuguese, Irish, and Italian immigrant over the past one hundred years. Yes, the grandeur of it all was a far cry from sitting in an LDS church house.

But on this particular Friday, my mind was flooded with memories. Memories not only of my mother's conversion to the LDS faith and the miracles that occurred in our lives afterwards, but of the early Saints and the stories of their labors, sacrifices, and dedication in building the Salt Lake Temple. A feat that took forty years to complete has eternally blessed my life in ways that I still do not fully comprehend.



As my eyes followed the rise of one of the six towers, the granite sparkled so brilliantly that I had to squint from the brightness of it all. My gaze rested upon the angel Moroni and the inscribed words, "The House of the Lord". I love the temple. I love to see it, I love to visit it, I love to enter it, and I love the Spirit that I feel within. It was no coincidence that the first hymn I sang to Xavier was I Love To See The Temple. I only hope that someday he will gain a similar love and reverence for the temple that I have. Our lives are so blessed because of the work performed within these walls. Yes, the temple is my favorite place to be.

Some of my blogging friends are not of the LDS faith. I thank you for indulging my sentiment for the temple and hope that you are not offended but uplifted and inspired to find beauty in all of the Lord's dwelling places, whether they be a temple, a chapel, a house, or a heart.