A different lesson than I wanted to write about

June 25, 2019

One of my goals this year was to attend the temple once a week. It's pretty much the only goal I've executed well, besides trying every flavor of Smith's house brand of ice cream. Braden and I planned to go to Amsterdam to celebrate our 15 year anniversary. We had to leave for the airport at 8am on a Tuesday. We wouldn't return until the following Tuesday, so if I wanted to maintain my 100% attendance, I needed to go that morning. The trouble is that I also had to have the house stocked with groceries for the week, every room in the house cleaned, all the laundry done, my bags and toiletries packed, and get the kids off to school. The thought "care about what God cares about" went through my head as it often does in Mary or Martha moments, and I resolved that I would be at the temple at 5am.

*The above is all I wrote. I never finished writing the story. This is me, two years later, looking over a list of half finished blog posts from the last several years. I want to finish this story because I can recall that when I drove to the temple, they were closed, and I didn't get to go inside. But I did have a really neat experience with the Spirit. I just can't for the life of me remember what it was. I really wanted to record it so I said a prayer in my mind to help me recall the special events that took place. Immediately Martin Harris came to mind along with a gentle rebuke to take better care of sacred things, accompanied with the feeling that this particular opportunity is now gone. 

So I'll recommit and try again to be a better steward of the light and experiences He gives me. Something that I constantly struggle to be successful with.