For the Temple is a Holy Place
My memories of the temple go as far back as to when my sisters and I were sealed to my parents. I was quite little, but can somehow remember looking all around and seeing my mom and dad and various other “familiar” people around them. I also remember the “old guy with white hair” that must’ve been conducting the sealing. Of everything in that memory, I remember the joy so visible on my parents’ faces. Joy that must’ve come from knowing that we were being sealed as a family for time and all eternity. I believe in that joy.
I feel at this point in my life, there is no way that I could fully understand all that goes on inside the temple. Almost as though it is WAY too much for me to handle. Not being an active member of the church, this is quite understandable. To be perfectly honest, there are so many aspects of it that I really do find mysterious and maybe even a little, um…weird? Having been “away” from the church for so many years, I suppose that my belief or the ideal that I have of the temple is really so far removed that it is hard to put it into words.
In my memories, the temple is a beautiful, joyful, peaceful place. I like that.