Peace like a river ...

Frequently I think that I need to add to our story here in Nauvoo. Clearly, we are more than settled in and this way of life is a bit like a dream. I never pull weeds, nor do I mow any lawns. I tried for a few weeks after buying a mower, but was not-so-gently reminded that this was not my job. Funny though how mowing a lawn can be therapeutic. The point is that our lives here are very unlike the previous years. We have a routine here - a cadence. We rise early every morning and labor in the most spiritual environment of the temple. Really though, it is anything but routine. Each day is unique. There are great days and there are grand days, but very few bad days. I have always believed that a picture - a well done picture, is worth a thousand words. And though I can share pictures with you, the best images are stored in my mind and heart. These are the temple pictures. The ones I cannot take with a camera but can attempt to share with hopefully less than a thousand words.

The temple is our Heavenly Fathers arms reaching out to us. It is His sitting room to share our thoughts, worries and hopes with Him. It is our opportunity for real perspective in world of so many illusions. A world that sadly tries to make faith, God and the temple the illusion.

We spend many hours in the temple - every day it is open! Certainly it is a peaceful place to be, but not every moment is a revelation. But there are those moments. Interactions within the temple at times are next to a very thin veil. When we came to earth we are told that we passed through a veil of forgetfulness. We had to show our goodness without the evidence of a heaven before us. So many seem to have set aside or lost that hope of what lies before us. We must choose our Father through our actions. The more that we choose Him, the closer He becomes to us. 'Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you; seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.' (D & C 88:63)

The pictures I can't show are those of people that come to the Nauvoo Temple. Young and old, they have made it a priority of some proportion to be there. And though there are some routine experiences, for many, there are those sacred moments of heavenly communion. It comes in the form of tears mixed with baptismal water. Moments of silence when verbal communication is paused as the spirit confirms the object of one's faith. The soft reference of an elegant, private and mature sister performing a sealing for family members as she states to me with muted tears, "That was my husbands father and mother. I loved them."

Each act in the temple is motivated by love and hope. The hope of reuniting with someone loved though in some cases not even known. I have had some of those sacred experiences here. Brief moments with those that I love, and those that I know of - but have not known. These regular assurances are without price but are of the greatest value.

The peace of the gospel is like a river. As the journey goes on it seems that around each bend in the road or top of the hill, the river comes back into view as it wends it's way with us along the path.