I have gained a new dimension to my love for the temple this year. It has come, of all places, from a study of the Old Testament. It dawned on me for the first time that the blessings we hope to claim from the temple and its ordinances all originate from promises made thousands of years ago.

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Prepare ye, prepare ye for that which is to come, for the Lord is nigh;” declared the Lord in 1831. Recorded in Section 1 of the Doctrine and Covenants, this directive was to the saints, who were just a small group of people in an obscure part of Ohio. The eighteen decades which have come and gone since then have been marked by tremendous growth in the Church. Our scriptures are in the majority of languages on the planet, and temples dot every continent. Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints worship the True and Living God across the earth. We serve full-time missions and member missions. But we cannot rest. Our work is not done.

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I just read a book called Leadership and Self-Deception, written by the Arbinger Institute. (One of the authors is James Ferrell, author of the Peacegiver, The Holy Secret, and The Hidden Christ, some of the most insightful books I have ever read. “Life-changing” is a fair statement.) One of the basic truths taught is that we must see the people around us as people, rather than objects. At first blush that may sound silly, but we do it more often than we think. For example, is someone looking for a seat on a crowded airplane a potential invasion of your personal space, or just a person who needs a seat? Is the child clamoring for your attention an opportunity to bless Heavenly Father’s child or an interruption to your reading or t.v. show?

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When most people think of “pioneers,” the images that come to mind include covered wagons, dusty trails, women in long skirts and bonnets and men in wide-brimmed hats. While this may be what Mormon pioneer ancestors wore and how they travelled, there is much more to their story. The essence of their story is not the external trappings; it is in their hearts.

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One of my favorite memories of my dad was when I was eight years old. My parents had just bought me a pony, and that day we were putting on his new saddle. My dad, feeling a moment of pride in his Iowa farm-boy roots, saddled the pony, hopped on and began to gallop across the field. He had only forgotten one thing: ponies like to suck in air when you put on the saddle. When they walk around, they exhale, and you tighten the girth, which keeps the saddle in place during your ride.

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