For a while Fresca was my drink of choice. I would treat myself to soda either when I felt like celebrating or when I had a hard day. I joked about a particularly bad weekend (to say the least) and how I drank a case of Fresca by myself. It was in sacrament meeting that I realized Fresca was a symbol of all the way and places we unsuccessfully "turn for peace." The "world" as they say has many aisles of sodas but none can truly satisfy a wounded heart (no matter how hard we try).
2 Nephi 9:50-51 (Book of Mormon)
"Come my brethren, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money, come buy and eat; yea come buy wine and milk without money and without price.
Wherefore, do not spend money for that which is of no worth, nor your labor for that which cannot satisfy. hearken diligently unto me and remember the words which I have spoken; and come unto the Holy one of Israel, and feast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted, and let your soul delight in fatness."
One evening our little family ventured into the kitchen. I buckled George into his chair and he was very upset (squirming and fighting against me). No, we were not about to force-feed him peas, we were going to have chocolate chip cookies. George loooooooves cookies. Nate pulled out an oven mitt to get the fresh hot cookies out of the oven and he said (over the fussing), "George if you only knew what was coming to you." Immediately I wondered how often Heavenly Father says the same thing to me..."If you just get in your seat I'm going to give you what you've always wanted...if you wait just a minute your huge blessings will be done cooking and I'll give you a glass of milk to go with it."
3 Nephi 14:9-11 (Book of Mormon)
"...if you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your father who is in heaven..."
if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing,
that there shall not be room enough to receive it."
One night Nate and I were on a date and decided to swing by Burger King. While ordering fries for us to share, he made a request that they "pack" in the fries because our budget was a little tight (this was when Nate sold his plasma to take me on dates). We both kind of laughed and after we paid, the drive thru employee handed us a large bag that was overflowing with french fries, maybe eight orders worth! We were in complete shock as the guy handed us our fries with a grin and said to have a nice night. It is not always french fries but as is the case, Heavenly Father blesses us far more that what we can dream up on our own.
On December 17th 2010 I was passing through downtown Provo on my way to work. Nearing Center street I was sent on a small detour and realized it was because the Provo Tabernacle was on fire. Firemen and emergency workers surrounded the building as well as directed traffic and the people that had started to gather. Like many others I began to reminisce about time I spent in the tabernacle and felt sad. This seemed like one more sad thing in the news, one more tragedy, one more loss.
Months passed and rubble from the tabernacle accumulated in piles outside it's walls. Tarps, ladders, and cranes surrounded the building for almost 10 months without a hint as to what would be done with the burned out shell.
During General Conference in October 2011 an announcement was made.
It was so exciting to hear that the Tabernacle would be rebuilt into a Temple! One of my favorite parts of general conference is the announcement of new temples. I have been fortunate to always live within 30 minutes of a temple (since the time I learned about temples) but many have to travel thousands of miles to attend the temple once in their lifetime, and many other members of the church do not have the opportunity to attend at all. So when the moment comes and new temple sites are announced I picture saints all over the world cheering and celebrating. When President Monson announced this temple the cheering and celebrating was here.
I pictured the flames and the sad onlookers and how they did not know what would happen as a result of those flames. We see the flames and we think...why? When the tabernacle burned, the fire didn't just take history with it, the building was stocked with extremely expensive instruments including a $20,000 harp that was in the building in preparation for a concert (what a beautiful concert it would have been). That building had big plans.
Now with more of the "big picture" as they say, I felt like I was the tabernacle. I thought of my own fires, and the sad onlookers, the piles of rubble, trying to make sense of the aftermath. I was reminded of the many articles that were written the previous December about how Provo's heart was broken and this announcement reminded me of a quote by C.S.Lewis:
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself” (Mere Christianity).
I wonder if the witnesses to the fire (had they known at the time what would be the fate of that old Tabernacle) would have been chanting "burn baby burn" or if they would have been picturing the beautiful landscaping that would later surround the engulfed building. Would they have stood imagining how many families would be sealed and reunited as a result of what would later transpire within those walls?
I imagine if the Tabernacle was a "living house" it would measure it's life (as I measure my own) by before the fire and after the fire.
Provo Tabernacle shortly after it was built in 1898
Hi. My name is Gillian and I see dead people parables. Probably everyday I see or hear something simple that translates into a parable in my mind, whether it is something I say to my little boys, something they say to me, something I hear in a talk at church or in the news etc. It is the language the spirit chooses to speak to me. I was inspired by my mother-in-law to keep a set of "small plates" as she calls them, meaning: a record of the spiritual events/moments of my little family, so here we are. The following posts will be very personal to me and I want to both keep a record of them and share them with you. Please forgive my grammar and lack of blog etiquette (as I am just learning) and be kind. I also hope you enjoy all of my 10 minute photoshop masterpieces! Happy reading.
