Trip to My Temple

Yesterday, after work I went to the Temple. The Ogden Temple is MY Temple. 

I seriously thought about just going home and starting my laundry and cleaning my kitchen and cutting up bananas. Then I remembered stories told in Sunday School about a Cambodian family who saved every cent. Every single cent they had. They sold their home and their only cattle. They did all of this so that they could travel to the Temple.

Yikes. 

I literally drove a mile and a half and walked into the temple. 

I literally walked out 45 minutes later after doing initiatories and drove 15 minutes to go home. 

I could have walked if I needed to.

And I thought about going home instead.

I have not been to the Temple since my stroke.

The last time I went, I did initiatories because P had been the day before and reminded me how amazing it was. He told me that I NEEDED to go do them.

So I did.

As I thought about going yesterday, I thought it best that I do them again.

As I listened to the promises given to us by our Heavenly Father, I wept. 

I wept because my body is working.

My Spirit is hearing.
My Heavenly Father loves me. And you.