From red to white in the Louisville Temple
5:00 am. The alarm rings. Denielle and I wake up, shower, and dress. My sister, Maria, sleeping in the boys’ room, wakes as well. We make a smoothie and grab some protein bars. We gather in the van. Maria offers a prayer. We back out of the garage, putting our faith in a loving God that He will watch over and protect all our children who are now in a teenager’s care. We enter the freeway. Our destination? The Louisville (KY) Temple. Our desire? To save our beloved, dead sister.
We talk of Barbara. Mostly topics we have discussed before, but we insert new insights and essay to understand her decision to take her own life and its impact on each of us. We talk about our kids and how we are raising them. We exchange parenting tips and trades.
Half way to our destination the conversation is interrupted by a stunning sunrise. “Good morning!” Barbara seems to say from above. “I am ready to make covenants with God today.”
8:10 am. We arrive at the temple, exit the car, grab our temple bags, and wait in the temple waiting room. A youth group enters the waiting room, ready to be baptized for their dead ancestors. They lift our spirits. Does Barbara know any of those who also will be saved today? Is she in a celestial waiting room with the youth’s dead ancestors, awaiting her turn to accept her temple work by proxy? Are they nervous? Excited? At peace? Ready? Are they whispering reverently one with another about their pending priesthood ordinance?
We spy home-made bread and honey butter in the kitchenette with a note: “Courtesy of the temple workers.” We help ourselves to some much-needed nourishment.
We meet up with brother-in-law Keith, Dad, Mom, sister Moselle and Barb’s widowed husband Drew. We don’t see Mom and Moselle until the endowment session. But we are greeted by the Stuckis. Brother Stucki served as my stake president in Louisville during my early married years. That was quite a job in and of itself. Later, I taught their kids in early morning seminary. They now serve in the temple presidency. We hug and are made to feel welcome.
Keith and I take two of Denielle’s names through for their initiatory covenants. Drew and Dad meet with a member of the temple presidency to receive council regarding Drew’s sealing to Barbara. Meanwhile, Denielle takes Barb’s temple card and, on Barb’s behalf, is washed clean from the sins of this generation. She was then given incomprehensible blessings that expand into the eternities. Was she excited to do so? Did she comprehend the blessings pronounced and sealed on her head through Denielle as a proxy? As I was going through for Denielle’s kindred dead, a sudden feeling of joy and peace overcame me. Tears flowed. They were with Barb. I just knew it. I wonder if that was around the same time Denielle was washed clean for Barbara.
We find ourselves in the endowment room. It is a packed session. Additional chairs are brought in. I scan the room for people I know. I see Beth, a longtime friend of the family. Maria, Mom, Denielle and Moselle are all together. Dad, Drew, Keith and I are across the aisle from our dear wives and mother. I hug Mom and Moselle before the session starts.
I glance down and see Barb’s temple slip on Moselle’s lap. I ask to see it. I hold it up for Drew to see. It is surreal. This pink piece of paper represents Barb’s salvation: her opportunity to accept being sealed for all time and all eternity to the young man sitting next to me. The slip represents the hope of eternal marriage, eternal families, and eternal worlds to come. It represents joy, happiness, and peace. It represents hope. It is evidence of Christ’s atonement and grace. It is freedom from this world and its transgressional trappings. It is eternal life!
Brother Smith is in charge of preparing the room for the endowment. While serving in the stake presidency in New Albany (IN), he set me apart as a young missionary. I have a lot of love and respect for him. Just as he used his priesthood keys to open the door for me to serve a two-year mission in France, the keys of the priesthood in this temple would open the door for eternal life and exaltation for Barb.
I notice an elderly sister helping with the endowment. Her hair is stylishly coiffed, her makeup in ornate order, and her beautiful smile like a beacon of hope reminding me of Barbara’s shining smile. As I prayed to God to feel Barb’s presence and better understand His plan for us as a family, I couldn’t help but think that this wonderful woman would have a part in answering that prayer. And she did.
While at the veil, this stunning sister assisted Moselle and then Mom through the veil. I was last and witnessed something truly remarkable that brought tears for the umpteenth time. Mom turns to the motherly matron and shares with her, interrupted often by great sobs, that she reminds her of her daughter Barb. I don’t hear the words, but I hear the crying from the other side of the room. I then spy the matron wiping her own tears away as mom goes through the veil. I tearfully repeat my part at the veil and finally enter into the allegorical Celestial Room.
We gather as a family in a semi-circle. The Stuckis visit with us for a moment. Denielle and I share an emphatic embrace. We praise Drew. Mom reminds us that we now must endure to the end.
Following the temple work, we visit Grandma and Grandpa Morey’s grave. Drew’s sister from Boston, Rebecca, joins us. We take a picture and then head for Hometown Buffet–a place where our grandparents would often take us all. We nourish our bodies with food and our spirits with lively conversation. We tell funny stories from our past, we speak of our present, and ponder our hopeful future.
Eventually, we part ways. Mom and Dad follow us back home to Pendleton (IN). We visit for a bit, eat some pizza, and grandpa plays with the grandkids. He is a fun grandpa. Mom is visibly but courageously struggling with her the events of the day. We love her so much.
A weather report of snow in the night bleeps on our mobiles. Perhaps it is again symbolic of Barb’s sins: they are now as white as snow. A promise prepared for all God’s children … who desire it. We retire to bed with a purposeful premonition that Barb’s eternal progression is procured and sacredly secured. She is saved.
Original journal entry was written on January 31, 2015.
Thats A Morey 