In church last week, a member of the temple presidency came to speak to our ward. We live in the Palmyra temple district. Strangely enough, he and his wife spoke about the importance of attending the temple. What a surprise! All kidding aside, the message was loud and clear to me and Desiree. We needed to go to the temple. We had not been since very shortly before we left Salt Lake City in May. As it was then the very end of September we knew it was long overdue. We made plans to go that Wednesday night since I didn't have rehearsal. It's a three hour drive, so Desiree had to leave work a bit early to make it. (She was temping for the opera company that week.)
As we were leaving home, we checked to see if we had our recommends. Desiree's eagle eyes spotted our foolish deficiency. Our recommends had expired at the end of April. Color us embarrassed! It seems even stranger since our bishop in Salt Lake asked us if we needed them renewed before we left. We blissfully and ignorantly said we were just fine. So now we needed to make a decision. We felt strongly that we should go to the temple, but were not able to go in. Should we go anyway? Since the Palmyra temple is located practically next door to the Sacred Grove, we decided to follow the promptings of the Spirit and go on the errand anyway, even if we were not able to fulfill it entirely.
By the time we got to Palmyra it was very dark. We made a brief stop at the grounds of the temple. It is beautiful there. The windows all have gold and green stained-glass representations of trees in them. The grounds are very colorful and perfectly manicured. It was great to be there even if we couldn't go inside. Then we went to the grove. Since it was dark, we used a flash light to go down the somewhat lengthy path that leads to it. There was no one else there. This was kind of a comfort to me and Desiree since we both have a mild aversion to tour guides at Church history sites.
Honestly, the path was kind of scary. The woods are frightening at night when the mist is gathering. Perhaps if I had been there before it would have been different. Maybe if I wasn't from the suburbs of Salt Lake where "woods" is more likely a last name than a topographical occurrence I would have been more at ease. In any case, I was aware of every tiny noise around us as we started our journey down a path to what we hoped would be a place of spiritual enlightenment. The clearness of the path laid out before us by people who knew the way was a quieting comfort.
We arrived at a small area that served as an outdoor chapel, with log pews facing the area where Priesthood leaders no doubt instruct and inspire those who want to enter the sacred area ahead. Right before we stepped into the small clearing among the trees where Joseph saw his first vision, a foghorn went off in the distance. It startled us. Quite a lot. We held our breaths in the way one does when frightened in an unfamiliar, foggy, dark wood. But since we had come this far already, we decided to see the grove regardless of reservations and fears. We stepped through the curtain of foliage into the sacred area and almost immediately the heavens opened and rain fell. It seemed to me to be a gift from above. I then realized that the foghorn was to warn us of the coming storm. The canopy above sheltered us for the few moments we stood and felt that we were in a special place. I felt giddy as we ran back through the rain to our car in the parking lot.
God watches us and gives us what is good for us even if it isn't exactly what we expect at the time.
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