The Mountain of the Lord

I went up to the temple today, and I had such a pleasant time, that I wanted to write about it. First, the parking lot was crammed! There were cars lining the curb all along the temple grounds. I did find a convenient spot, under a shady tree, but why would I consider the many cars a good thing? It always makes me happy to see lots of people at the temple because then I know that the people who've donated their whole day to serving there will be busy. They've given up a Saturday to help others, and I like that there is something constructive to do. Especially today when the weather here is fabulous and the sky is clear and there is just the right amount of breeze. I'm happy that so many others are spending their time in the service of the Lord so that the temple workers will know that their job was worth it.

I also love that everyone is cheerful there. There are plenty of places I go each week where attitudes are not the best. But it is a rare thing to encounter anyone in the temple who is not pleasant, kind and warm. (Note that I said rare...not that I haven't met a cranky soul there. But it is unusual.) People are so funny when you come stumping through the door with a cast on your foot. Old ladies hurry to hold the door for me, when I ought to be holding it for them. Everyone I encounter smiles and several of them say something like "So great of you to come today--wow!" and the point to the foot. Seriously, I've spent so many weeks unable to go because of the non-weight-bearing rule, that it seems like nothing to show up in the boot. After all, I can actually walk! And drive! And the boot is mostly white, so it doesn't stand out too badly.

My interesting day stepped up the pace. As I looked at the name I had received, I saw that it was, in fact, four names long. This sister had been born in Algiers in 1863. Her name was obviously French, and her birthdate was just over thirty years after the area had been conquered by them and become a colonial outpost of France. I've never done temple work for a person whose birthplace was on the African continent and I felt a bit of excitement for this opportunity.

I took a seat in the chapel to wait and realized that there was a serious stir in the room. As each new person would enter, people already seated would crane their heads around. Smiles would break out--discreet greetings would be given. When someone would slide into the bench, someone nearby would reach around for a hug. A lady came back to whisper to a couple sitting in front of me, "We've made room, come up here and sit by your mother." Then, an older woman came through the door, wearing a name tag that indicated that this was her first experience in this part of the temple and most of the people seated in there broke into smiles that were practically audible. They were all so pleased to see her, and to be there to support her and participate in this fine, fine occasion. I watched them all through our session, and saw them later clustered together in the celestial room, wiping tears, exchanging hugs. I don't know a thing about their life stories, but it was obviously a very special day, and their joy made my day even better.

As I left the building, the courtyard was filled with children, teens, and adults all dressed very nicely, with a bright turquoise accent on every outfit, somewhere. A cluster of tiny girls wore identical fluffy dresses of the coordinating color, and it was clear that very soon, a freshly married bride and groom would exit proudly from the side door to join their admirers on the shaded patio built for that purpose. Along the sidewalks were little groups of teens wearing matching t-shirts that proclaimed the theme for their stake's Youth Conference. They were walking the temple grounds and enjoying the fantastic weather as one part of their conference experience. It was like being at the mall: cars pulling up and dropping off passengers. Other people climbing into vans to leave the temple for some other great part of their day. Hugs and kisses, greetings and farewells.

I walked over to my truck and sat inside for a few minutes and watched the hummingbirds flit around the flowered bushes in the parking lot. I saw one bird fly up into the tree that kept me in the shade, and realized there was a minuscule nest on the branch up there. If I hadn't seen the movement, I'd have never been able to identify that tiny bump on the branch as a nest. The eggs are smaller than jellybeans, the nest is about as big as a walnut shell. I finally started up the engine and backed out of my space, leaving behind the busiest place in the neighborhood. But I got to keep the joy, wonder and spirit that filled me for having spent a few hours in the Las Vegas temple.