Went to the Temple

Thank you to everyone who sent blessings my way—heaven knows I
needed them. Life has its ups and downs, and lately, I’ve been on a bit of an upswing. (Don’t jinx it.) One of the highlights came last Friday, when I had the chance to visit my church’s temple in Boston, MA.

Now, if you’re thinking Boston sounds close—let me stop you right there. From where I live, it’s at least a four-hour drive, not counting pit stops for snacks, bathroom breaks, or necessary detours to avoid Boston traffic (which has been known to bring grown men to tears). And honestly, I can barely drive into town without needing a nap, let alone trek across state lines.

Earlier in the week, I was chatting with a dear friend while going over the music for church, and apparently, she noticed I sounded a little down. (I must’ve let my perky mask slip.) I mentioned that I felt like I needed to go to the temple—it was just something on my heart.

Without missing a beat, she asked, “When would you like to go?”

I shrugged and said, “Well, I’m not doing anything Friday.”

She replied, “What time should I be at your house?”

Just like that.

Everyone should have at least one friend like that in their life—someone who sees your struggle, picks up the keys, and says, “Scoot over, I’m driving.” I even had someone snap a photo of the two of us in front of the temple so you could see how stunning it is—graceful, peaceful, and towering in the kind of way that makes you feel small in a good way.

The temple is more than just beautiful. It’s a soul-soothing, heart-centering, quiet kind of place. A place where the world's noise fades, and heaven feels closer. It lifted something heavy off me. The sky seemed a little bluer when we left. My burdens felt a little lighter. My spirit felt... well, renewed.

I’m so grateful I was able to go—and even more grateful for the friend who sacrificed a whole day from her own busy life just to get me there. That’s the kind of blessing you can’t measure.