Temple Run

In real life.

Mount Timpanogos Temple

Do you see how beautiful it is? White, glorious, and majestic against those powerful mountains? I believe that the work of the Lord is performed within those sacred walls. Learn more about the temple here.

One super awesome thing about living in Utah is that there are temples everywhere. Rather than making a day or overnight trip dedicated to temple attendance, you can visit one to do work for just a couple hours of the day because unlike most other places in the U.S., it usually takes a maximum of maybe twenty minutes to arrive at the nearest temple. Or so I thought. 

I had an interview to receive a Limited Use recommend from a counselor in the bishopric from my ward, and last Saturday I just really wanted to go for an hour or so.

I found out there are drop-in hours at the Mount Timpanogos temple from 5:00pm-8:00pm, meaning an appointment and names aren't necessary. Perfect. I left the house around 7:30, knowing the doors closed at 8:00 but that the work continued until around 9:00 or later. I had my Grandma give me some simple directions, and I hurried out the door (first mistake: try not to be in a hurry when you go to the temple).

I turned off I-15 onto what I thought was the right exit, only to suddenly find myself approaching a big orange sign reading "ROAD CLOSED". By this time it was closer 7:45, and I started to panic a little. I pulled over and called my grandparents, who helped me discover that I took the wrong exit. 'Ok, no big deal.' I thought. I could go back the way I came and get on the interstate again.  

I followed the signs only to discover too late that the ramp I was entering was going the wrong direction. I got off the next nearest exit in a hurry, flipped around, found an on ramp going the right way, looked at the time, and saw that it was 7:56. I felt defeated. I wasn't going to make it to the temple that night at all. And then I had a thought (which is, sometimes, dangerous). 'So I can't go inside and do any work tonight, but maybe if I can just see the it, I'll have at least some of the strength the temple always gives me.' So I was determined. I would at least drive around the temple, see the angel Moroni high at the top, and admire it's heavenly magnificence from the outside.

I watched signs for the "correct" exit this time, and followed the directions according to my knowledge. I ended up driving along this country road with farmland and wildflowers for a while, and it made me miss and appreciate Tennessee. While my thoughts started to swarm with a little homesickness, I realized I didn't really know where I was anymore, and I five minutes later I pulled over at a somewhat shady warehouse next to railroad tracks and decided I was lost.

Too embarrassed to call my grandparents, again (another mistake: pride), I used my phone's GPS and tried to get my bearings. I love my smart phone, and only once has it steered me wrong. But being so unfamiliar with the area and honestly still relatively new to driving on my own, it hardly helped. I finally got to a point where I could see a tall, shining building through the dark that I assumed was the temple, and I turned onto whatever road I thought would get me there.

When I finally drove up the hill through all manner of construction toward the building, I was still unsure if it was the temple after all. The towering part didn't look like a spire, and I couldn't see Moroni. Thankfully, it was the temple. But it was covered in scaffolding for some kind of repair.

After all my difficulty getting there, it wasn't even the perfect image I had hoped to see. I thought, 'I need to see Moroni! This doesn't even feel how it's supposed to! Why did they have to do construction right now?' I circled around the massive parking lot until I could calm down and remember why the temple is really so important, and why I wanted to go in the first place. As I drove past the front entrance, I remembered standing there in years past waiting for relative couples to come out after being sealed for time and all eternity, and the unique experience I had several years ago to perform proxy work with other family members for my own ancestors.

Once I finished driving around (and let me add, I would have walked around the grounds too if the rain hadn't followed me all night) and had my fill of getting the spirit back into my heart, I turned to go back home.

Only 10-15 minutes later, I passed a sign that read "Welcome to the City of Highland!" Umm...

Anyway, at least half an hour and a 67-cent ice cream cone later, I pulled into the garage to the sound of pounding rain that followed me all night long to the very bitter end.

But thinking back on that crazy night where I was so lost physically, I am so very grateful to know that I know where I am spiritually, and that I have words of a living prophet, the scriptures, the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost, and the Atonement of Jesus Christ to guide me and correct me in the right direction. And even though I still have no idea how to get to the Mount Timpanogos temple, I have a great story to tell about getting lost in Utah Valley!

It's really kind of funny, because until that experience last weekend I have felt so, almost guiltily, blessed. I couldn't have asked for a better ward, I have special one-on-one time with my grandparents and other family members, I have an awesome job and I was hired before I even completed the class that certified me to do it. I think the Lord has a good sense of humor, and He was giving me a gentle reminder to be humble and remember who is in control.

Conclusive moral of the story: Never openly communicate that you're going to the temple because everything will work against you to prevent you from getting there. Just know how to get there, and go!