My Temple Fast

“Surely we on this side of the veil have a great work to do. . . . We can see that the building of temples has deep significance for ourselves and mankind. . . . We must accomplish the priesthood temple ordinance work necessary for our own exaltation; then we must do the necessary work for those who did not have the opportunity to accept the gospel in life. . . .

“Yet there are many members of the Church who have only limited access to the temples. They do the best they can. . . .

“Let us truly be a temple-attending and a temple-loving people. We should hasten to the temple as frequently, yet prudently, as our personal circumstances allow. . . Let us make the temple, with temple worship and temple covenants and temple marriage, our ultimate goal and supreme moral experience.”

                      - President Howard W. Hunter, “A Temple-Motivated People,” Ensign, May 1995

The Oakland California temple was an hour drive away from where I grew up. As a mutual group, we were usually able to go to the temple to do baptisms for the dead several times a year. In addition, we occasionally went to the temple grounds and Visitor’s Center for other events, like stake conferences, dance festivals, special concerts, and Christmas lights. I felt very blessed that the temple was a part of my life as a youth, but making the trip always took careful planning and was a big event.

When I went to college at BYU, suddenly the Provo temple was just five minutes away. I could walk there. I could even just go to the grounds just to read my scriptures, something that I had always dreamed of doing when I dreamed of living close to the temple. Although I could only do baptisms for the dead, I was very excited that I could go to the temple more frequently.

But college started all too soon and I was busy from the start with classes and adjusting to life on my own away from home. There wasn’t much time to hike up the hill to the temple when I had papers to write, tests to take, and other homework to do. I was also a little nervous about finding my way around the baptistery and only wanted to go to the temple if friends could go with me. Sadly, during that first semester—five minutes away or not—I only went to the temple once or twice.

Then the lesson began when the opportunity of temple attendance was ripped from me. Over Christmas break that year, I broke my leg in a sledding accident. I came back to college several days late and in a leg cast. I had to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around to my classes, and going to the temple, at a time when I was struggling emotionally as well as physically from my injury and the strength of the temple would have been a tremendous help, was impossible (you just can’t be baptized in a cast!).

The closest I could get to the temple that semester was in my Doctrine and Covenants religion course. The class covered the second half of the Doctrine and Covenants, and we talked about the temple a lot that semester because in many of those sections the Lord talks about the importance of building and worshipping in temples.

As we studied these commandments in class, our professor challenged us to write down goals about our temple attendance. I felt so sorry that I hadn’t taken time for the temple while I was able to go, but I could still make goals and did. I promised the Lord and myself that once I was out of my cast I would not take the temple for granted again.

Looking back, I call this time in my life my temple fast. As I waited for my leg to heal so I could walk again, I learned how much I missed the temple in my life when I took the time to appreciate it. Every time I start thinking about how going to the temple isn’t convenient in my scheduling or travel plans, I remember how much I missed it when I wasn’t physically able to go and try to remember to better appreciate the opportunity—and not a chore—that regular temple attendance is in my life.

Years later, one of my bishops talked about the time when the temple closes for cleaning in the summer or winter each year as a time of a temple fast. He would always encourage us ward members to go just before and just after the scheduled temple closing and during the few weeks without an open temple to think about our “fast” to help us recognize how much we appreciate the temple, but I after that first temple fast in my life I have always hoped that I can learn to appreciate the temple even while I live near one, and while it’s open, by attending frequently.

What I Didn't Say

 “Just try to stick to Elder Oak’s conference talk on testimony,” Brother Wallace’s voice message said when he gave us our speaking assignment for the following Sunday.

I was excited about the topic because I had benefited a lot from that talk in the April 2008 General Conference. But, on the other hand, I had a really great idea of how to teach from Alma 32 about planting the seed to allow faith to grow into testimony. As I started preparing my talk, however, I felt prompted to only talk about Elder Oaks’ talk and not Alma 32.

I followed that prompting. I re-read Elder Oaks’ talk and took notes on things that stuck out to me. I started outlining. My husband and I decided that I would cover the first half of the talk and he would cover the second half. I took my reading notes and chunked the ideas into three main points. I thought of personal experiences I could share for each point and I decided on the main points that Elder Oaks had made that I wanted to share with the congregation. My outline was two pages of bullet points and looked great.

But a few days before Sunday, I still didn’t feel like I had the right talk. I had studied, pondered, and organized everything and thought I had a great talk outline, but I still didn’t feel settled. I looked at my printed outline and started crossing things out. I really felt like I should chop down my content by two-thirds, even if that meant that I wouldn’t fill up my time. Even just before Sacrament meeting started on Sunday, I was circling and crossing out all over my outline.

When I got up to speak, my talk only covered one of my bullet points. I kept all my personal experiences in and related them to that one point. I felt guided as I spoke, even in details such as where in the congregation to look and where to pause.

But even though I felt like everything went well, I was still a little disappointed. Why did the Spirit tell me to leave so much content, the specifics of Elder Oaks’ instruction, out? I found the answer to that question when I went to Relief Society. It was a fourth Sunday Teachings for Our Times lesson, and the bishop had asked that the teachers teach from Elder Oaks’ conference talk on testimony, the same that my husband and I had been assigned to speak about in Sacrament meeting. I don’t know if the bishop knew that his counselor had assigned us the same talk, but because of the Spirit, this double arrangement worked perfectly. In my talk I had given personal experiences that talked about the importance of testimony and how we should be seeking to gain testimony in everything we do—in every lesson and every personal scriptures study session. Our Relief Society teacher, however, spent the lesson time talking about the more specific points of Elder Oaks’ talk, like the different types of knowledge and ways to learn.

As I sat through that Relief Society lesson I was so grateful for all that the Spirit had told me to cut out of my talk. If I had tried to cover what the Relief Society teacher wanted to cover, I would have ruined her lesson and the sisters, including me, would have been bored with going over the same talk twice within the three-hour block of church. Instead, the Relief Society built on what I had said in my talk. Further, the specific points of Elder Oaks were discussed much more productively in a classroom setting than I could have done from the pulpit.

My sacrament meeting talk was a teaching miracle to me. Only the Spirit could have told me and the Relief Society that we were both preparing lessons on the same General Conference talk and had it work out as perfectly as it did. I hope that I can always seek the Spirit to help guide me with what I should and shouldn’t say in a talk.

Gifted

The piano is one of the greatest gifts my parents ever gave me, and I say it that way on purpose. I don’t mean “my piano” because I grew up and purchased my own instrument; I say “the piano” because I feel that because of the opportunities they have given me, every piano and piano piece in the world is open to me.

It is true that my parents had it pretty easy. I was a child who begged to take lessons. Although I wasn’t always perfect at practicing scales and drills, I loved to play. Even as a teenager, when many of my friends quit music, I loved to sit and play all the beautiful music I could get my hands on and learn for hours at a time. Growing up in a three-bedroom house in a family of eight children, sitting on the piano bench was the only space I had to myself. Even with cartoons on the TV in the other room and my brothers fighting over Lego bricks on the carpet behind me, I could sit and play and escape from everything.

Now that I am older and beginning to think about music lessons for my own children, I realize how much my parents gave to give me the piano. As I think of it, the primary sacrifice they made wasn’t even the money for years of lessons, although that was a substantial investment, or the patience in hearing me practice, though that was a constant in their daily lives. What they gave most was their time.

For years, my mom took me to piano lessons once a week. At first I went to lessons in tow with my two sisters and whatever brothers Mom could bribe, force, or threaten to endure piano lessons as well, but gradually, by the time I was in high school, I was the only one left on the roll sheet from our family, but Mom never asked me to stop. As I look back now, I realize what a sacrifice she was making for me; even my siblings sacrificed. For at least an hour a week, and sometimes more if my teacher lived far away, Mom was away from the rest of them just to take me to lessons.

I don’t think I’ve ever told my mom how much those drives meant to me. I looked forward to those drives—just me and mom. Once a week I got all of her attention. We talked about anything on our minds, and she never acted like it was hard to leave the other seven—and all the activities they wanted to do—just to be with me and to give me the piano.

With this wonderful gift of beauty and love that my parents gave me, when the ward needs someone to fill in playing for the choir or Relief Society or some prelude music, I always say, “Yes.” And amid the thanks I receive, over and over again I try to remember that this isn’t really my talent; it’s my parents’ gift.

All Saints’ Day and an LDS Context

On November 1, some Christian faiths celebrate All Saints’ Day. Although we don’t officially recognize this holiday in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there are some traditions of this day that we have inherited and can have meaning for us.

All Saints’ Day is also called “All Hallows” or “Hallowmas.” Thus, Halloween, or “All Hallows Eve,” is the day before All Saints’ Day, or October 31. According to tradition, November 1st is the time to celebrate the lives of the martyrs. Traditionally, this holiday is directly followed by “All Souls’ Day” on November 2, also called “The Day of the Deceased” or “The Day of the Dead,” although some cultures have blended All Saints’ and All Souls into one day. The context of these dates gives Halloween traditions a little more relevance. For example, Halloween obsessions with death make more sense when the next two days are supposed to be holidays about the dead.

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we don’t have canonized Saints, but we do believe that we are all saints in the kingdom of God. This is why the tradition All Saints’ Day festival hymn, “For All the Saints,” is also included in our LDS hymnbook.

“For All the Saints” was written by Anglican Bishop William Walsham How and published in 1864. When we sing this hymn in our congregations, we think of “All Souls” as “All Saints”; we think of the “saints” in this hymn as the many beloved people we have known and loved who have departed from this life and are now at rest.

Below are the lyrics of “For All the Saints,” as included in our hymnbook:

For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia.

Oh, may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
Fight as the Saints who nobly fought of old,
And win with them the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia.

Thou art our rock, our fortress, and our might;
Thou, Lord, our captain in the well-fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, our one true light.
Alleluia, Alleluia.

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia.

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
Singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Alleluia, Alleluia.

This wonderful hymn expresses faith in Jesus Christ as “our rock, our fortress, and our might” and as our captain. As November begins, as the holiday season approaches, the words of this All Saints’ Day hymn can lend us strength, faith, and courage, even though during the next few months may be when we miss deceased loved ones most.

Among several other additional verses, Bishop How originally had these two beautiful additional verses appear between the two final verses in our hymn:

The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of glory passes on His way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

In this season, we can remember all the saints, all our loved ones who have passed from this life. As Bishop How’s hymn says, “Sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed. . . . But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day.” On this All Saints’ Day, we can remember the hope of that glorious day and the faith we can have in Jesus Christ which comforts all our pain and enlivens all our hope.

Service in the Snow

It was snowing heavily, and I was very late. I hurried from the stake center foyer out into the flurry, turned on my car, and shivered as I brushed the snow off the windshield only a little more quickly than the snow piled back on. After clearing off my car as much as I could, I jumped back in and turned up the heater. As I reached out my hand to shift into drive, I felt an impression to go back outside and brush the snow off the car next to me.

I hesitated. The Saturday enrichment activity had started late because of the snow, so I was nearly an hour behind the time I said I would be home. My family had other plans for that day, and I was already really late. But, the Spirit said to my heart, cleaning the snow off the car next to me would only take five minutes, which wouldn’t make that much of a difference to my plans. I yielded.

I didn’t know whose car it was or who I was helping as I brushed the snow off the car next to me. I comforted myself with the fact that the inside of my care would be all the warmer when I finished and went back inside my own vehicle. As I scraped away the snow from the other car, I mused about how great the service I was giving could be. Maybe if I scraped one sister’s car, she would clear the snow from the car next to her, and soon there’s be this great, big, wonderful chain of service in our ward Relief Society that morning, all started by me.

When I finished clearing the snow I probably had more snow stuck to my coat than there was snow left on the other car, but my car had heated up nicely on the inside. I pulled out of my parking spot cheering by my visionary service domino effect. But just as I was leaving the parking lot, I saw a sister with a stroller hurry out of the building and unlock the car that had been next to me.

Suddenly I was so grateful, and very humbled, that I had followed the prompting to clear the snow off of this sister’s car. I didn’t know her very well, but I knew she was a new mother and hadn’t seemed as cheerful as usual that day. With an infant to care for, I knew that traveling in the snow, and just getting in and out of the car in any weather, was much more difficult for this sister than it was for me.

I’m sure the young mother didn’t scrape the car next to her, so the wonderful snow service chain I had envisioned, with me as the secret star, didn’t come about at all, but I didn’t care. Instead of gratifying my pride, doing service that snowy morning taught me a new lesson about the worth of souls. Heavenly Father didn’t need a service chain started in our Relief Society; he needed me to show love to one sister who needed some extra help. He knew this sister’s concerns, just as he answers my prayers in so many ways. I drove home, not thinking about my tardy to-do list, but of the multitude of His tender mercies all around me.

My Scripture Study Tradition

We are regularly reminded to spend time each day reading and pondering the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon. For many of us, these words of President Ezra Taft Benson are still familiar: “The Book of Mormon was written for us today. God is the author of the book. It [was] . . . compiled by inspired men for our blessing today. . . . [I]t was meant for us.” (“The Book of Mormon Is the Word of God,” Ensign, May 1975, 63).

As a child, my parents had a goal to read a chapter from the Book of Mormon as a family every night. This pattern usually meant that we would read the entire book aloud about every year. Family scripture study became a solid tradition. Even now, when I’m only home to visit a few weeks each year, every night our entire family gathers and Mom reads aloud from the Book of Mormon.

My family’s scripture study tradition helped encourage me to create my own personal patterns and traditions of scripture study. Studying the scriptures individually is also vital. Elder L. Tom Perry has said, “It is up to us to study the Book of Mormon and learn of its principles and apply them in our lives” (“Blessings Resulting from Reading the Book of Mormon,” Liahona, Nov 2005, 6–9). In the last five years I have developed a tradition of reading the Book of Mormon at a certain time each year. This pattern has made the Book of Mormon a miraculous influence in my life.

It all started four years ago. I was eighteen and getting ready to start my freshman year at BYU at the end of August. During June, July, and the first part of August I was still working my high school job and getting ready to move away from home for the first time.

As I started packing, I went through all the memories I had stored for all my growing up years. In a box under my bed I found a packet of envelopes I had received from a Young Women’s New Beginnings activity the year before. Inside each envelope was a spiritual thought with a scripture reading assignment from the Book of Mormon. Our leaders had called this scripture study program a “30-day Walk with Christ.” They challenged us to open an envelope a day and, by following the reading assignments, read the entire Book of Mormon in a month.

I had lasted less than a week. Swim practice and choir concerts got in the way, and I only opened a couple of envelopes. As I came across the packet again, I set it aside. I hadn’t been able to do the 30-day walk before, but wouldn’t this be a perfect time, right before I left for college? I felt like I could use a great spiritual boost just before I moved away from home for the first time.

I planned the thirty days so that I would finish reading the Book of Mormon right before my mom and I drove to BYU. I wasn’t perfect; some days I forgot or didn’t have time for the full reading assignment so I’d have to catch up and do double the next day, but I did it. After I reached the goal, I didn’t think too much about it—my mind was suddenly occupied with class schedules, buying textbooks, making friends, and settling into dorm life—but looking back I can see that reading the Book of Mormon in those thirty days just before I went to college did bless my life, immensely. This spiritual boost helped me remember who I was even though I was in a new place, far from home, and making my own decisions.

That was the first time I read entire the Book of Mormon during the month of August. A year later, August 2005, I was back home again and working for the summer. In the Ensign that month, the First Presidency message, by President Hinckley, was about the Book of Mormon. He said, “Today, a century and three-quarters after its first publication, the Book of Mormon is more widely read than at any time in its history. Whereas there were 5,000 copies in that first edition, about 5,000,000 are currently distributed each year, and the Book or selections from the Book are available in 106 languages. Its appeal is as timeless as truth, as universal as mankind. It is the only book that contains within its covers a promise that by divine power the reader may know with certainty of its truth.”

It is President Hinckley’s memorable challenge that we all remember the most: “I offer a challenge to members of the Church throughout the world and to our friends everywhere to read or reread the Book of Mormon. . . . Without reservation I promise you that if each of you will observe this simple program, regardless of how many times you previously may have read the Book of Mormon, there will come into your lives and into your homes an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to His commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God.”

August 2005 was the second August that I read the Book of Mormon, thanks to President Hinckley’s challenge. My summer job was the most monotonous employment imaginable: I was pulling staples for a large company’s record archiving project. It was good money, but very, very boring. I could listen to headphones at work, so I decided to listen to an audio recording of the Book of Mormon before I left my job and went back to BYU. The recording covered just about three work days. I decided to save this book for last.

My last three days of work were amazing! I had never read the Book of Mormon in so short a time before. Listening to the audio recording was a unique experience too. It only took about five minutes until I had to grab some scratch paper and take some notes. I kept a pen handy next to my work so I could write down phrases that had struck me or thoughts I had during the reading. What amazed me most was the entire book fit together so much better than it ever had before; because I was covering the whole history and chronology in just three days, I understood where all the flashbacks and break-off groups fit in with the book as a whole.

At the end of my three day Book of Mormon spree I had eleven pages, front and back, of notes, thoughts, and impressions from that reading. I still have those notes, the record of when I reread the Book of Mormon just after I turned nineteen years old. By fulfilling the prophet’s challenge, I, with the rest of the Church, truly felt “an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord” in my life for the rest of that year.

Because of these two previous experiences, when August rolled around in 2006 I felt an urge to read the Book of Mormon again. I had stayed in Provo that whole summer to work as an EFY counselor, and I finished my final EFY session the last week of July. I had a few weeks off of work before school started after Labor Day, so I decided to give in to that desire and challenged myself to read the entire book before school started. I spent all my free time reading the Book of Mormon. I remember how great it was to pull my picnic blanket onto the lawn in front of my student apartment complex on a free afternoon and read the scriptures just because I wanted to.

This year has been my fifth year in a row that I’ve read the Book of Mormon during the month of August, but this year, like every year, was a little different. President Hinckley’s challenge is a treasured memory for all of us now. This year has also brought new changes and challenges into my life. As I look back on the past five Augusts, I am so grateful for the inspiration I had to rely on the scriptures to give me the strength I needed to get through transitional times that seemed to come every year in August.

Reading the Book of Mormon in August may not become your tradition, but I believe that each of us can receive inspiration that not only urges but directs our scripture study. We are commanded to have personal scripture study because it blesses us and strengthens us. God has never given us a commandment that we do not reap both immediate and long term blessings from or that he will not help us to fulfill, if we ask him. Embracing patterns of scripture study so that they become firm traditions of spiritual devotion bring great spiritual power to our lives.