A month after our son returned home I found myself in the temple one cold January morning. I hadn't been to the temple since he had returned. I had spent that month being angry at him and anyone else I could think of. I had been throwing myself a pretty good pity party and wallowing in my misery like the best of them. But that January morning I knew I had to go to the temple so I just went without realizing what day and time it was.
I left my home for the 30 minute drive over and made it into the 10 AM session. Which is full of missionaries from the MTC!! The whole endowment room is full of happy, smiling missionaries with a few "older" people mixed in there. I literally sat in the chapel and wondered if I could just leave, change my clothes, go home, and go back to my pity party where I felt safer. Instead I was surrounded by a room full of people that went straight to the heart of my pain and anguish. I was trying to get over these happy, smiling Elders because my son wasn't one anymore. And then I realized it was also Wednesday and by the time I would be leaving the temple I would be just in time to see all the happy families dropping their son's off at the MTC!! I really wanted to just cry and keep feeling sorry for myself but I decided to toughen up, try and feel the Spirit, try to focus on the person who I was doing work for, and just try to get through the next two hours without totally falling apart. My pity party would be even better tonight after this experience.
And you know what? It worked. I focused on listening to the organ and the words of the songs. I focused more on the words of the endowment session than I probably ever had and learned so much. Maybe because I was broken at that time that I found more comfort, more strength, and more hope in that session than I ever had before. I focused on a woman who lived hundreds of years before me in a foreign country who may have experienced trials far more difficult than mine and she had to endure those without the hope and comfort of the gospel. And towards the end of the session I was able to look at all those smiling and confused Elders and feel happy for them because they were serving and happy for the families that were experiencing the joys of having a missionary out. By the time I got to the celestial room, I truly felt lighter, happier, and more thankful. My prayers had been answered - and probably more important, the prayers of those people praying for me had been answered that morning.
Before I leave the celestial room I always sit in a certain spot, in a certain chair in a little alcove where I can just look at the beautiful picture of the Savior that hangs on the wall. I always have lots of different thoughts each month as I look at that picture and know that He knows me and is aware of my life. As I sat there this month among all the missionaries I felt a total sense of peace come over me. My son was still home- he wasn't immediately zapped half way across the world in an instant and back on his mission- but I felt strength, hope, and peace. I knew that someday, somehow, everything was going to be okay -even if that meant my son never returned as a missionary. A lot of me felt like I just wanted to sit in that chair in the celestial room until everything was okay again because I knew as soon as I walked back out of the temple I would wrestle with all the feelings I had been having the past month. There is a true sense of safety and peace that only comes from within those sacred walls.
My time was getting short - I had kids that would need to be picked up and shuttled around shortly since it was early out day - and I wanted to avoid the whole MTC drop off scene as much as possible. I decided to say a quick prayer before leaving the celestial room. I don't always say a prayer but today I felt I needed to and wanted to. I sat in that chair, bowed my head, and began my prayer.
As I was praying I suddenly felt like I wasn't in that room anymore. I knew I was sitting in a chair but I wasn't conscious of that chair anymore or to any of the whispering's of the missionaries that had been going on around me. Somehow my mind, my spirit, was in another realm all alone. And then I saw several different "flashes" of my son and our family. It's hard to describe in words something that isn't in this world in a way that people can relate too. The best analogy I can come up with is a scene from the movie "Armaggedon" with Bruce Willis that came out a good 10-12 years ago, maybe longer. There is a scene right at the end of the movie where Bruce Willis is supposed to pull the trigger of a nuclear bomb that will save the world from immediate destruction. But Bruce Willis knows he will die as soon as he pulls the trigger. Right as he closes his eyes and pulls the triggers these quick "flashes" of his life and the people he loves flash across the screen for just a fraction of a second. I'm sure most people have seen movies with similar scenes and it's the closest thing I've been able to compare my experience in the temple to so that people can relate.
The first thing I saw was my son. He wasn't in any place in particular, it was like I was looking at a picture because he wasn't moving or doing anything. He had the light of Christ back in his eyes, which he did not have at this time. He had a radiant countenance again and he was happy. Almost simultaneously I saw another "flash" of him in a white shirt and tie with his missionary badge. He was either sitting up on something or just taller than everyone around him because he stood out. There was a blue sky above him and a blue ocean behind him. And he was surrounded by a family - an African American family - and he was teaching them, and there were many people around him. It reminded me of family gatherings at my husband and I's parents home - lots of different people and different ages. My son was interacting with these people, they were talking and laughing. He was teaching them from the Book of Mormon and every single person radiated the light of Christ. I felt like it could have been a picture on the cover of the Ensign magazine - it was that real. I felt that my son had known these people before in the pre-earth life. I felt that these were people that he had loved and it looked like their spirits were so happy to be re-uniting on this earth. For as long as I live, I will never forget that image in my mind. It was, and to this day still is, beautiful.
After that I saw a glimpse of my son and the woman he will marry and his kids. It was a very brief "flash" but he was married and a father and he was happy. I then saw real quick "flashes" of each of my kids and our family. We were all happy and all together. The scene that came to my mind with this "flash" was the vision of the Tree of Life. We were all happy, no one was mourning that some had gone to the spacious building. I took this "flash" to be at at time after the Second coming but that is only my opinion. Again, they were just brief "flashes". At least it felt really brief. And then, just as suddenly as it came, it was gone. I was suddenly aware again that I was in the temple, in a real chair, and in a real body. I was suddenly reminded that I had just been saying a prayer for peace. I'm not even sure if I said "Amen."
I opened my eyes and looked around the room and wondered who else in that room had just seen and experienced what I had. Certainly it had to be a movie that was playing on one of the walls - there was no way I could have seen all that without everyone else witnessing the same thing. But the room was pretty much empty at that point. I don't know how long I had been sitting there since there aren't any clocks in that room but the room had been full when my prayer started and now there were only 4 of us in there. I sat there for a few more minutes, wondering what had just happened and taking it all in at the same time, and then went downstairs to change.
I felt like I was in a daze for the rest of the day as I ran my girls here and there and went about my daily routine. But as everything I had experienced really started to sink in, I knew the Lord had blessed me with the peace I so desperately needed that day. He reassured me in the most real way possible that everything was going to be okay. I did not expect to be given the glimpses I received that day and to be honest, the glimpse of my son back on a mission was incredibly unsettling to me. My son had no desire to return and I had even less of a desire to open that door again. But deep down inside my soul, a place so deep I had forgotten where it was, I knew that someday, somehow, he would return. And he would return to the people he loved so much. I didn't know how and I didn't know when but I knew he was foreordained to go back and teach people that would be waiting for him. And it didn't feel right to share this experience with him - at least not now. Maybe someday the time would be right.
But in the days, weeks, months, and year that followed that experience that cold January day in the temple I wondered if what I had seen had been real. My son made no attempt to return to his mission, he had no desire to return (even going inactive for a time), he had moved on with his life, and so had the rest of us. Maybe all of that was just a cruel joke. Those beautiful "flashes" didn't match the reality of what I had seen in his actions and it was time to file this away deep inside my mind. I was very adamant that no more missionaries would ever leave from our home again - at least not while I was still living. While I treasured the experience I had in the temple I knew it was something that would either happen much later in his life or maybe in the next life. After all, we do lots of missionary work on the other side too. It took me awhile, but I truly found my peace with moving on.
And then after all that time my son made his announcement that he wanted to return. I was back in the temple on another cold wintry day trying to find peace and direction over his decision when I remembered this experience I had had over a year ago. I had buried all of that so deep that it took me awhile to bring it to the surface again. I realized that the Lord had blessed me with that experience so that I would hang in there through the bitter end. And I felt that the bitter end journey was probably just beginning - we were about to embark upon a whole new set of uncertainty and a whole new set of emotions. Maybe it was time for me to realize that everything was going to work out according to the Lord's timeline and I needed to turn this over to Him and let Him take it from there. It was time to not let my fears overtake my faith. The phrase, "Faith and fear cannot co-exist" were about to take on a whole new meaning.
I left my home for the 30 minute drive over and made it into the 10 AM session. Which is full of missionaries from the MTC!! The whole endowment room is full of happy, smiling missionaries with a few "older" people mixed in there. I literally sat in the chapel and wondered if I could just leave, change my clothes, go home, and go back to my pity party where I felt safer. Instead I was surrounded by a room full of people that went straight to the heart of my pain and anguish. I was trying to get over these happy, smiling Elders because my son wasn't one anymore. And then I realized it was also Wednesday and by the time I would be leaving the temple I would be just in time to see all the happy families dropping their son's off at the MTC!! I really wanted to just cry and keep feeling sorry for myself but I decided to toughen up, try and feel the Spirit, try to focus on the person who I was doing work for, and just try to get through the next two hours without totally falling apart. My pity party would be even better tonight after this experience.
And you know what? It worked. I focused on listening to the organ and the words of the songs. I focused more on the words of the endowment session than I probably ever had and learned so much. Maybe because I was broken at that time that I found more comfort, more strength, and more hope in that session than I ever had before. I focused on a woman who lived hundreds of years before me in a foreign country who may have experienced trials far more difficult than mine and she had to endure those without the hope and comfort of the gospel. And towards the end of the session I was able to look at all those smiling and confused Elders and feel happy for them because they were serving and happy for the families that were experiencing the joys of having a missionary out. By the time I got to the celestial room, I truly felt lighter, happier, and more thankful. My prayers had been answered - and probably more important, the prayers of those people praying for me had been answered that morning.
Before I leave the celestial room I always sit in a certain spot, in a certain chair in a little alcove where I can just look at the beautiful picture of the Savior that hangs on the wall. I always have lots of different thoughts each month as I look at that picture and know that He knows me and is aware of my life. As I sat there this month among all the missionaries I felt a total sense of peace come over me. My son was still home- he wasn't immediately zapped half way across the world in an instant and back on his mission- but I felt strength, hope, and peace. I knew that someday, somehow, everything was going to be okay -even if that meant my son never returned as a missionary. A lot of me felt like I just wanted to sit in that chair in the celestial room until everything was okay again because I knew as soon as I walked back out of the temple I would wrestle with all the feelings I had been having the past month. There is a true sense of safety and peace that only comes from within those sacred walls.
My time was getting short - I had kids that would need to be picked up and shuttled around shortly since it was early out day - and I wanted to avoid the whole MTC drop off scene as much as possible. I decided to say a quick prayer before leaving the celestial room. I don't always say a prayer but today I felt I needed to and wanted to. I sat in that chair, bowed my head, and began my prayer.
As I was praying I suddenly felt like I wasn't in that room anymore. I knew I was sitting in a chair but I wasn't conscious of that chair anymore or to any of the whispering's of the missionaries that had been going on around me. Somehow my mind, my spirit, was in another realm all alone. And then I saw several different "flashes" of my son and our family. It's hard to describe in words something that isn't in this world in a way that people can relate too. The best analogy I can come up with is a scene from the movie "Armaggedon" with Bruce Willis that came out a good 10-12 years ago, maybe longer. There is a scene right at the end of the movie where Bruce Willis is supposed to pull the trigger of a nuclear bomb that will save the world from immediate destruction. But Bruce Willis knows he will die as soon as he pulls the trigger. Right as he closes his eyes and pulls the triggers these quick "flashes" of his life and the people he loves flash across the screen for just a fraction of a second. I'm sure most people have seen movies with similar scenes and it's the closest thing I've been able to compare my experience in the temple to so that people can relate.
The first thing I saw was my son. He wasn't in any place in particular, it was like I was looking at a picture because he wasn't moving or doing anything. He had the light of Christ back in his eyes, which he did not have at this time. He had a radiant countenance again and he was happy. Almost simultaneously I saw another "flash" of him in a white shirt and tie with his missionary badge. He was either sitting up on something or just taller than everyone around him because he stood out. There was a blue sky above him and a blue ocean behind him. And he was surrounded by a family - an African American family - and he was teaching them, and there were many people around him. It reminded me of family gatherings at my husband and I's parents home - lots of different people and different ages. My son was interacting with these people, they were talking and laughing. He was teaching them from the Book of Mormon and every single person radiated the light of Christ. I felt like it could have been a picture on the cover of the Ensign magazine - it was that real. I felt that my son had known these people before in the pre-earth life. I felt that these were people that he had loved and it looked like their spirits were so happy to be re-uniting on this earth. For as long as I live, I will never forget that image in my mind. It was, and to this day still is, beautiful.
After that I saw a glimpse of my son and the woman he will marry and his kids. It was a very brief "flash" but he was married and a father and he was happy. I then saw real quick "flashes" of each of my kids and our family. We were all happy and all together. The scene that came to my mind with this "flash" was the vision of the Tree of Life. We were all happy, no one was mourning that some had gone to the spacious building. I took this "flash" to be at at time after the Second coming but that is only my opinion. Again, they were just brief "flashes". At least it felt really brief. And then, just as suddenly as it came, it was gone. I was suddenly aware again that I was in the temple, in a real chair, and in a real body. I was suddenly reminded that I had just been saying a prayer for peace. I'm not even sure if I said "Amen."
I opened my eyes and looked around the room and wondered who else in that room had just seen and experienced what I had. Certainly it had to be a movie that was playing on one of the walls - there was no way I could have seen all that without everyone else witnessing the same thing. But the room was pretty much empty at that point. I don't know how long I had been sitting there since there aren't any clocks in that room but the room had been full when my prayer started and now there were only 4 of us in there. I sat there for a few more minutes, wondering what had just happened and taking it all in at the same time, and then went downstairs to change.
I felt like I was in a daze for the rest of the day as I ran my girls here and there and went about my daily routine. But as everything I had experienced really started to sink in, I knew the Lord had blessed me with the peace I so desperately needed that day. He reassured me in the most real way possible that everything was going to be okay. I did not expect to be given the glimpses I received that day and to be honest, the glimpse of my son back on a mission was incredibly unsettling to me. My son had no desire to return and I had even less of a desire to open that door again. But deep down inside my soul, a place so deep I had forgotten where it was, I knew that someday, somehow, he would return. And he would return to the people he loved so much. I didn't know how and I didn't know when but I knew he was foreordained to go back and teach people that would be waiting for him. And it didn't feel right to share this experience with him - at least not now. Maybe someday the time would be right.
But in the days, weeks, months, and year that followed that experience that cold January day in the temple I wondered if what I had seen had been real. My son made no attempt to return to his mission, he had no desire to return (even going inactive for a time), he had moved on with his life, and so had the rest of us. Maybe all of that was just a cruel joke. Those beautiful "flashes" didn't match the reality of what I had seen in his actions and it was time to file this away deep inside my mind. I was very adamant that no more missionaries would ever leave from our home again - at least not while I was still living. While I treasured the experience I had in the temple I knew it was something that would either happen much later in his life or maybe in the next life. After all, we do lots of missionary work on the other side too. It took me awhile, but I truly found my peace with moving on.
And then after all that time my son made his announcement that he wanted to return. I was back in the temple on another cold wintry day trying to find peace and direction over his decision when I remembered this experience I had had over a year ago. I had buried all of that so deep that it took me awhile to bring it to the surface again. I realized that the Lord had blessed me with that experience so that I would hang in there through the bitter end. And I felt that the bitter end journey was probably just beginning - we were about to embark upon a whole new set of uncertainty and a whole new set of emotions. Maybe it was time for me to realize that everything was going to work out according to the Lord's timeline and I needed to turn this over to Him and let Him take it from there. It was time to not let my fears overtake my faith. The phrase, "Faith and fear cannot co-exist" were about to take on a whole new meaning.
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