Baptisms for the Dead

As I lay in my bed, planning my day tomorrow, I thought about the Temple; not an unusual pace for my mind to wander. I love going to the Temple and doing baptisms, although this was not always the case, especially my first time.

I remember being so excited to go when I received my limited use recommend, but I didn't actually know how it worked, or what to expect. Luckily, my oldest sister was in town for Thanksgiving, and invited me to go with her to do baptisms. As I entered the Temple for the first time, I was nervous, but excited. My main focus since returning to church has been getting to the Temple, and I was finally ready, at least to enter a portion. But as I progressed, my nervousness began to turn to worry: I had expected so much more. Not of the building or space itself, but of the spirit I would feel inside the house of the Lord.

I shrugged it off, and expected the spirit would be felt more strongly as I entered the font to be baptized. And when that didn't happen, I expected more during the baptisms themselves. And then the confirmations. But in each step of my initial experience, I had trouble recognizing the spirit's still, small voice. I changed back into my street clothes, wondering why I had such trouble. I was asked later how I felt, and the honest answer was confused. I had built up my expectation of the presence of the spirit to being akin to my conversion experience.

But it wasn't. It was the still, small voice often talked about in scriptures and church meetings. I went in with false expectations, and instead of adjusting to the reality, I let worry get in my way of feeling the spirit. As I've returned time and time again, I've begun to get better at recognizing the spirit felt there. For me, it's a sense of peace and calm that was at first small and subdued, but as I've gotten more familiar with it it has grown into a wonderful relief from my day to day burdens. I was counseled by my bishop to strive to go once a week, but I'm honestly not satisfied going only once a week.

I treasure the time I get to spend in the Temple, and I miss that sense of peace throughout my week as the worries and influence of the world affect me. I cannot wait until I am ready to enter the Temple to receive my endowment, surrounded by my family, my missionaries, and closest friends. I'm close, closer than I've ever been, as I'm just one interview with my stake president away from receiving the Melchizedeck priesthood. I'm preparing myself to be more open to the experiences of the Temple in a full session than I was when I did my first baptisms, and I can't wait until I get to spend time in prayer and contemplative thought inside the house of the Lord. It shall surely be a great blessing in my life, yet another that I'm not sure I deserve, but am more than willing to accept from my Lord.

With Love,
Taylor.