What Renovating Temples has Taught Me About Grace
by Kayelynn Guthman
It's 7am on a freezing January morning,
and my husband and I pull up to work. The security guard has already unlocked the front gate to the construction site, so we head to our onsite office. After some daily paperwork and a check in with the site Superintendent, we enter the building we're renovating. It's a normal day, but the building is anything but normal. It's a temple. The company my husband and I work for has worked on many temple renovations over the years, and my husband has done several of those. But it's only the second temple I've worked on and the first large scale interior renovation I've been a part of.
It's been a steep learning curve starting this job for a myriad of reasons, and an overwhelming experience to work on the House of the Lord, a place many people see as the closest thing to perfection as exists on this earth. But let me tell you something: It is not perfect.
Over the last several months, we've run into problems that come up in many renovations—mold, rust, water damage, cracked tiles, failing pipes, poor craftsmanship, poor quality … the list goes on. Many of these things are not visible to the patrons enjoying the temple on a daily basis. They're encased in thirty year old walls dressed in beautiful wallpaper, unseen until you peel back the façade.
There are so many metaphors you can make with this, and honestly, it was a bit shocking to me—someone who had little to no experience with construction before—that the temple had such poor craftsmanship. But it's been a humbling few months as we've tried to leave the temple better than we found it. We've run into problems and limits that cannot be overcome. And it finally occurred to me a few weeks ago why it has hit me so hard and so profoundly.
Grace.
Our temples are not perfect buildings, because no earthly building is. Everyone who works on a building is limited by a million things—materials, colors, methods, time, etc. They're limited by human beings' inability to make perfect things. We can get close. We can make a corner as close to ninety degrees as possible. We can painstakingly apply paint so that it doesn't have streaks. We can lay tile just so. But at the end of the day, this building is made by human hands, with human error baked into the very studs that hold it up.
And yet.
We're meant to fall, be picked back up, dusted off, and embraced by a loving God.
God still accepts it. It is still a dedicated space. It is still used for saving ordinances. It is a place where so many find peace and comfort and rest from the world.
What does that teach us about God's love and acceptance of us? We are not perfect. Try as we might, we can't be exactly obedient a hundred percent of the time. We're not meant to be. We're meant to make mistakes and learn from them. We're meant to fall, be picked back up, dusted off, and embraced by a loving God.
Just as our team tries our best to make the temple better than we found it, we try our best to improve ourselves just a bit every day. And God accepts, loves, and dedicates our efforts, even when they fall short.
The temple is a fraught place for many people, myself included. I have a lot of questions, a lot of wishes for how it could be different. But working on temples has helped me to give myself and others grace, knowing that God already does.
Love between the lines
by Rachael
My Sacrament prayers
by Carolena Graves
The Prayer for the Bread
O God, Eternal Creators of all living; Mother God, Father God, The Good;
I ask Thee in the name of Thy Son, Jesus Christ, the Healer of our souls, to bless and sanctify this bread as a symbol of the Bread of Life. That as I eat it I may both remember and look forward to Christ’s body, as it was in his life on Earth and as it is now. That I may feel connected to my body now, and trust in the divine nature of my body, made in the image of Thee, the Divine Feminine. Help me witness all of us as the symbolic body of Christ, bringing our brokenness to the altar as we watch the bread be broken. That as we eat of it we may create wholeness as we become unified and seek healing together.
Let me take upon myself the name and covering grace of Thy Son, and always remember Him, and live in a way to allow my nature to be changed daily as I fill myself with His charity by acting daily in it. That the Holy Spirit, be it male or female, may always be with me, sanctifying and changing my nature to be more true to what I want it to be.
Amen.
The Prayer for the Water
O God, the Eternal Creators of my soul; Mother God, Father God, The Good;
I ask Thee in the name of Thy Son, Jesus Christ, the Healer of our Souls, to bless and sanctify this water. That it may be a Living Water to my broken and yearning soul as I drink of it. That it may flow into all the cracks and dark places in my soul, bringing healing and wholeness.
May I feel connected to my own mortality in remembering Christ’s mortality; the blood he shed for us, asking that we shed no more blood but bring healing and wholeness to the Earth.
That I may witness unto Thee, O God, O Good, that I do always remember and witness Christ’s love in the beauty and goodness in creation all around me. That I may always feel that connection in my spirit to the Spirit of all Creation.
Amen.
*Note from the author*
After your episode mentioning rewriting the sacrament prayers, that idea had been on my mind, but I kept putting it off. But after a particularly painful Sunday, I just couldn't listen to those prayers anymore. So that Sunday around Christmas time last year I just sat during the sacrament prayers and let whatever I needed to hear flow out of my pen. I wanted to keep it in a similar format, but reframed in a way that came from my own heart and need. These prayers just flowed out, and I made almost no adjustments to them. I now read these prayers during the sacrament ordinance, and at other times, and feel a balm where once was pain.
Selfless
by Brittany Jensen
I’ve seen Zion
by Crystal Schultz
When I got my first glimpse I was surprised.
I didn’t think I would see a community that was this unifying, loving, and understanding in my lifetime.
I would love to tell you what it was like in my own experience.
The first, and main thing, is that each person in Zion is doing their best to be conscious. Conscious of others, and most importantly conscious of themselves and who they really are. It’s a type of awareness that comes from awakening, and living in truth and honesty.
Ego only serves one purpose in Zion. It is the positive ego that designates a personality and gives individuality. It makes it possible to be proud of yourself. Proud of who you are, of your truth, proud of growth and strength. It is good to have pride in one’s gifts and authentic self.
The lack of shame stands out to newcomers of Zion. There is no shame for bodies, no shame for ideas, no shame for needs or differences. No shame for tears, no shame for heartache, no shame for sadness, mistakes, or questions.
Occasionally a newcomer will shame themselves out of habit, and it feels very out of place. Those accustomed to Zion see that person in their truth, so it stands out. The newcomer might not have learned as much self-awareness or unconditional love yet, but still they are treated the same as everyone else. Treated with respect and deep love. The new individual, just the same with everyone, is encouraged to live authentically and own their inner truth and gifts.
Yet, there is no open judgment. It’s acknowledged that judgment is only a reflection of the individual judging, not the one being judged. The judging individual sees the triggered reflection as their own personal work to do. In this they work on seeing God in all.
In Zion everyone is respected. We don’t have to agree, and we don’t even have to believe the same things, but we respect each other where we’re at. Self-awareness, consciousness, and most of all: love—are the keys to Zion.
Still, you might be surprised to hear that there are disagreements in Zion.
Yet, because of the love and consciousness, each person in the disagreement would consciously step back and try to see from the other person’s perspective, and ask questions. Or they would recognize in themselves what their attachment was that needed re-evaluating.
Communication is not perfect in Zion, therefore it allows people the chance to learn and practice deep listening and understanding with love.
Also, after coming to an understanding of each person’s point of view, the people involved might each apologize and express love. Or even say things like, “That’s an interesting perspective. I believe differently, but I appreciate you sharing it with me.” In Zion they really try to hear what is being said, and why it matters to the person expressing it. Communication is not perfect in Zion, therefore it allows people the chance to learn and practice deep listening and understanding with love.
Zion does not have a hierarchy, and there’s not one person who has all the say over another, or even over a group of people. No one is trying to control anyone else, yet everyone is doing their best to be considerate. Everyone in Zion believes in the strength and choice of each individual, and trusts the inner guidance of each person to make the best decisions for themselves. They are encouraged to look to their own inner wisdom and deep connection to God for guidance. It is especially encouraged. That does not mean there is the expectation that there will never be mistakes or pain, but that everything will work out in the end. There is lots of patience in Zion.
If advice or wisdom from another person is sought, then it is given with love. The words of wisdom are shared with personal verbiage, avoiding projection to another. This is because it is understood how the power of the mind can create, and it is not the intention of the wisdom sharer to recreate their own story with the seeker. Only to share the pearls of great price that they gained in their experiences. The pearls are treated lovingly and with respect. The wisdom is then evaluated by the seeker. There is no obligation or attachment in either person to follow a friend’s counsel unless after the inner reflection it aligns with the seekers inner guidance system, and it feels right.
Another interesting note that I didn’t expect at my first glimpse of Zion, years ago, is that each person is very conscious of their own needs and boundaries. They don’t feel guilty having or expressing needs, or even taking time alone when they need it. They don’t feel shame over not attending things like celebrations, service, or healings for others, if they know that they need something else instead at that time. They are not shamed by others for it either. Everyone knows that it serves best if we are secure in our own inner peace, and fulfill our own needs before taking on the needs of others, as much as possible. What ends up happening is that everyone feels so fulfilled, and especially empowered in our self-fulfillment through our deep Godly relationship, that our needs actually become much fewer.
At the same time, there is some support that we can only get through community, and we love to make time and space for that. There is healing given freely. Healing hugs, listening ears, healing food, healing art and songs. Healing words, and healing through the use of spiritual gifts that are used confidently. They are full of light and love.
In Zion there is trust in each other, mainly because we first learned to trust ourselves and our relationship with the God of Love we know.
As much as Zion believes in the individual, it also understands that each person is a part of a whole. They take care of each other, helping with each other’s wholeness, knowing it also promotes our own. It’s understood that when one person is hurt, it also hurts the whole, and that when one person is healed, it also heals the whole.
In Zion there is trust in each other, mainly because we first learned to trust ourselves and our relationship with the God of Love we know. Which can look different from person to person.
Fanning the flame of the divine spark in everyone is the great love and joy of each person, even in small interactions. It is even how we greet each other, by acknowledging that divinity and truth in each person.
Zion also gratefully recognizes Earth’s freely given resources. Everything from the dirt, to the sand and sea, to the trees and sky. Gratitude for rivers, animals, and herbs. All living things are respected and honored for their freely given love, healing, and being a part of us all. All the natural gifts around us, like the sun and water, are blessed and given gratitude, and never abused.
I love Zion, and I carry it in my heart. Perhaps you have also glimpsed Zion and carry it in your heart. I look forward to the day when it will be the widespread way to live, in truth and love.
My intimate knowledge of Zion has come from a number of settings, not in just one actual place. It has been in places of growth and healing, and often in sisterhoods, although not exclusively.
I’ve been back time and time again, and now I carry it within me, trying to keep all the principles and way of life consistently.
I have seen it with physical eyes. I tell you this because I want you to know that it is possible. It’s not one place to gather to, it’s not made of bricks or steel, it’s not an organization, it’s a way of being. When that way of being is practiced by many people together, then it becomes a Zion community. There’s not a more beautiful place I can think of living: It’s Heaven on Earth.
Would, Should, Could
by Amy Wilde
Two years ago was the first time I’ve ever said no to a calling. My husband was traveling a lot for work and I was busy running a children’s camp for the summer. My current calling was as a Relief Society counselor. One Saturday, I got a text from a bishopric counselor asking me to come in early on Sunday. Since our Primary president was moving, I was positive that I was going to be called as a counselor. I became so sad thinking about being released from Relief Society. I was having a very difficult time giving up my only non-child focused time each week. I simply could not handle my own 3 small children, all the children at work, and everyone else’s children on Sundays. I loved being able to go to Relief Society and have adult conversations that didn’t revolve around children. That night, I decided that I was going to say no if they extended the calling.
On Sunday, the bishopric member asked if I would accept the calling as a Primary counselor. I told him no. I cherished my time in relief society and could not have 100% of my time focused on children. I have never felt more empowered in a church setting (I have felt empowered in many, many settings outside of church). Shortly afterwards, I began wearing pants consistently to church and now care very little what people think of my interactions with the Church. —Hampton
Libby’s Mite
by Lindsay Silsby
We spent Christmas in Paris one year with my cousin and her children. It was, as you can imagine, completely magical. We did all the fun things, Disneyland Paris, Christmas markets, ice skating underneath the Eiffel Tower and pastries every day! We were walking back from St. Germain market. It had been a bit of a trek from where we had been at Notre Dame. We weren’t too far from the car park when we came across a beggar. He was crippled of some sort and asked for change. All the little legs and bodies were exhausted, Mums and Dads were spent out (literally and figuratively) so the march was quick, and we moved on. My then eight-year-old, Libby, was quiet for a bit after we passed him but pulled on my arm as we rounded the corner, tears in her eyes, “Please mum, can I give him some something?” The conversation that followed went like this, “Mum, I don’t understand why everyone is walking by him, why don’t they help?” Well....some people don’t like to give to beggars. “Why?” People sometimes think their life choices put them in that situation. “But mum how do they know that?” They don’t. None of us do. “If he is a beggar, then doesn’t that mean he is begging? He isn’t just asking mum, he is begging, right? Begging is more, isn’t it?” Yes.
She took what we had and ran to deliver it to this man. She was quiet almost the rest of the way back and then said, “Well at least we did something.” I've thought of this experience so often, particularly as my spirituality has evolved and changed. It seems so much easier to assume than give the benefit of the doubt. We don't know anyone's story. All we know is that we should be "off to the rescue" without abandon. I have been a photographer for 16 years but I rarely carry the "big guns" with me when I am on holiday with my family. So glad I endured the neckache to have brought it on that day. This is the image I captured as she ran back.
Contributors:
Rachael
Rachael is finding a new life, love, and solace amongst the trees at her home in Minnesota.
Brittany Jensen
I'm a nurse, feminist, wife, and mother to 3. I love to sew clothes and watch my favorite show (Parks & Rec). I'm learning to be a "smart mouth" and to use my voice for good.
Crystal Schultz
Crystal Schultz is proud to be multi-faceted. She is a Kundalini Yogi, a Yogic Life Coach, a wife and mother, a Numerologist, a philosopher, a creator, and a perpetual lover of learning. She has been a life long member of the LDS faith, and while still partially active, she considers herself an Omnist (finding truth in all places and religions).
Crystal has a deep love for gleaning wisdom from many sources, especially around the world in a variety of religions and societies, as well as ancient histories and manuscripts. She now utilizes the new found wisdom as tools for her coaching clients, and in workshops.
Her joy is in helping women to know their true, amazing, and powerful selves, and to live in joy and self-authority.
Amy Wilde
Amy lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband and 4 children. She loves warm weather, warm drinks, and warm words.
Lindsay Silsby
A proud native of Arizona, Lindsay's journey began with a bachelor's degree in Spanish, but her passion for photography soon took center stage. With over 16 years in the field of photojournalism, Lindsay has honed her craft in storytelling that resonates deeply. Her career trajectory evolved from capturing families over time to co-founding Their Story is Our Story, a charitable organization committed to sharing the authentic narratives of displaced individuals through her lens. Lindsay's impactful work has been featured prominently in publications like Let Me Tell You My Story: Refugee Stories of Hope, Courage, and Humanity. In response to the challenges posed by the Covid pandemic, Lindsay pivoted from photojournalism to healthcare, embarking on a new chapter as a registered nurse. Beyond her professional endeavors, Lindsay resides in the UK with her four busy children and lovely English husband. She continues to inspire through her storytelling, compassion, and unwavering dedication to creating positive change in the world.
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Brittany's "Selfless" speaks my truth. Hoping for a more and more developed self for the rest of my life. Beautiful poem!
“Would, Could, Should” 😭💝 I felt reminded of that little girl that I shoved away for so long when I read this. I think this poem gives a voice to the beautiful self that we learned not to to trust so early in life. I’ve wondered what I could be if I had listened to her but reading this poem makes me think she might still have a chance. Thank you!