Refuge

I went to the temple alone yesterday.  After a day filled with making and receiving multiple phone calls, dashing from one end of the valley to the other, seeking letters of authorization and delivering them to various medical offices, I have learned that obtaining a second opinion involves a lot of prep work. 
But I went to the temple afterwards.  As I slowly drove the crowded 405, I thought about my first summer in Seattle.  Neal and I married in June, and every Wednesday morning I went to the temple.  It took a couple of weeks to learn the best time to leave the house so I wasn't caught in the morning rush on the way or in the noon rush on my return.  Going alone was an opportunity to ponder, and each week the first sighting of the Angel Moroni always caused me to take a deep breath and realize I was almost to my refuge.  I used to feel like that on Tuesdays in Billings when I left the high school and hurried to be on time for the ordinance worker's prayer meeting - seeing the temple spire was a joyful realization that I was nearing my objective.  I love that sense of knowing I'm almost to a house of worship.
The session was surprisingly large, but I felt like the instruction was for me alone.  I had needed time in the temple to fill my spiritual bucket and recognize how many blessings we've received in the past few days.  As I left I was so pleased to see that there were no empty parking spots, that many had parked along the sidewalk, and cars were even parked at the stake center.  I wish the temple were that full all the time.