My great pilgrimage

Today in my humanities class we were talking about pilgrimages. My professor talked about going to sacred sites and how they bring special feelings of connection. We talked about ancient pilgrimages to Jerusalem and Rome. Then she asked about pilgrimages that we may take. Immediately I thought about a conversation that I had with my sister recently that all roads lead to Provo, by way of Salt Lake. I thought of all my family vacations over the years of going to Utah, the trip to my Grandparent’s house, then on to Aunt Kris’ house. The visits to temple square, watching the movies, going to temple open houses, Ensign Peak, and even Cove Fort.  This weekend my family is taking a pilgrimage- if you will- to Manti to attend the temple there. Finally, someone mentioned the eastern Church history sites. The teacher asked who had been to Nauvoo, or the Sacred Grove, or Kirtland. I know that it’s irrational, but I still, even 4 ½ years later, feel like Nauvoo is my Nauvoo. The experiences that I had there are still close to my heart. It is not an exaggeration to say that my Semester living in the City of Joseph changed my life, even more; I think it changed my heart.

It is because I went to Nauvoo that I have a firm testimony of Joseph Smith. Now, I’m sure that I would still have a testimony (and I might have graduated already) had I stayed at BYU for that fall semester, but I know Joseph Smith. I love that man, and I look forward to the day when I will meet him and thank him for what he did so that I can know and worship the One, True God. I walked the path from Nauvoo to Carthage, visited the sacred grove, and felt the pain of the saints as I too left Nauvoo, unsure when I would return.

In Nauvoo I decided that I had been given too great a gift not to share what I had. So, almost 2 years after returning, I served a mission. Sharing with others the good news! The Glad tidings from Cumorah!

I learned to love the temple. There was not a whole lot to do in Nauvoo, so each day, following lunch, before Choir, my roommate and I would attend the temple to do baptisms for the dead. Spending time in the temple, with the senior missionaries was the best part of my day. I looked at the beautiful stained glass window and pondered Christ’s mission and the example he set by being baptized. I looked at the pictures on the walls and pondered Christ teaching in the temple and how willing He was to teach me, when I came seeking. I thought about those who had been waiting for hundreds of years to experience the blessings that I had taken for granted for so long. I realized that I was here on this earth to be involved in temples and that I would find peace there.

Like early Christians, I went on my pilgrimage wounded, not physically, but spiritually. My pilgrimage healed me as I associated with the people of our own little Zion, attended the temple, sang the songs of Zion, and as I felt the overwhelming love of the Savior, I was made whole.

Pilgrimages were important for early Christians, they represented a change in their lives, a healing, a deeper connection with the Almighty. My own pilgrimages to Nauvoo changed my life. There is rarely a day that goes by that I don’t think about the time I spent there. The amazing people who changed me for the better who, though we left and went our own ways, I still care deeply for.  The experiences that I had that are forever engraved on my heart. The ones that I will share, and the ones that are too close to openly talk about.