My Hiding Place

Last February, I talked to my mom about one of my favorite books, The Hiding Place. I had just finished reading it for the second time in a few months. I told her how I love the Ten Boom family. Corrie, Betsy, and their father Casper hid Jews in their home in Holland during WWII. They were eventually caught, but they had unwavering faith in their Savior Jesus Christ. Their story inspires me. I told my mom how the title, The Hiding Place, has a double meaning. It obviously references the secret room behind Corrie's bedroom wall where they hid friends and strangers. But it also a references Christ, who is our only true hiding place.

"Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance." (Psalms 32:7)

Early the next morning, Mom texted me to ask me a question. The text came in just as I pulled in to the parking lot at the temple. I responded to her question and then snapped this picture of the temple as I walked up to the door. I sent it to her and added, "It's my favorite time of the week."

She responded, "Your hiding place." I stopped in my tracks. It is true. I go to the temple to rest from the cares of the world. In that holy place, I can "hide," being preserved from trouble. In that hiding place, I find renewal and peace. I grow closer to my Savior, who is my true Hiding Place.

I started to cry.

I went into the temple to perform proxy work for the dead. I did not have my own family names, so I took some that were provided at the temple. When I looked at them, I saw that at least one of the women for whom I did that sacred work was from Holland, just as the Ten Boom family was.

I cried again.

I can't help but to think of that short texted conversation every time I go to the temple now. I think of the temple as my hiding place. I think of it as the place where, although I am surrounded by fellow worshippers, I can be alone with my God. Before my mom passed away, I whispered to her that I go to the temple every week. I invited her to join me. Although she can visit me wherever and whenever she wants, I knew that I would feel her presence better in the temple. So, now, in the temple, I hide (and heal) not only from worldly concerns, but from my own grief. In the temple, I am reminded of the Plan of Happiness. I am reminded that death is not the end. I am reminded that lasting peace and joy come through making and keeping covenants. I am reminded of our Heavenly Father's love and mercy. I am reminded of Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice and resurrection. And, I am reminded of my mom, who taught me all of those things in the first place.