Turkish Delights

TURKEY. I hope I can come back to this incredible country many times during my life. Who knew one place could be so rich in beauty, culture, and history? My week in Turkey was stuffed with more incredible sights, smells, and experiences than I could possibly wrap my mind around. I am stunned we were able to do SO much and so grateful that I didn't miss a moment of it.... well except for passing out during long bus rides.

Bonfire dances on the beach, ferry rides while staring out at Istanbul, reenacting Acts 19 in the stadium at Ephesus where it ACTUALLY HAPPENED, and sitting on the floor of Hagia Sophia are only a handful of snapshots describing one of the most memorable weeks of my life. Every day I feel blown away by the concept that I am here, that I am lucky enough to be in this place and with these people.

Interestingly enough, the bus rides on this trip were very special to me. I want you to picture a bus full of students all peering over seats and curled up in aisles around their professor and asking him deep, doctrinal questions. Brother Harper spent hours doing this with us on many of our long drives. He is very careful to only discuss "what we know and HOW we know it" instead of speculating on doctrine that cannot be supported by the scriptures or latter-day prophets. I am continually impressed with his knowledge of the gospel. He will recite lengthy quotes and reference footnotes in verses found in all of the standard works. It is such a gift to be here with such remarkable professors. LOVE them all...even when they steal my camera and try to chuck me in the Dardanelles.

There was one idea that struck me with particular clarity while I was in Turkey. While wandering through the skeletons of cities, through the hollowed out rib cages of temples and palaces once pulsing with life and energy, I thought of the painting 'Desolation' in the art series 'Course of Empire' by Thomas Cole.

Even though empires and kingdoms rise and fall, princes and sultans reign and fade into history, the God of Heaven is constant and unchanging. To be consistent, dependable, and steady are God-like attributes. Humanity has been on a roller coaster where they love, quarrel with, and even go to war with each other. However, God's love for his people and the commandments he asks of them have been the same since the days of Adam and Eve.

Even though we have exchanged togas for jeans and bangles for ipods, the principles of heaven are unchanging now and through eternity. No matter what time we may have come in the course of human history or what region of the world we may have been sent to, we are all children of Heavenly Father striving to return to the God that gave us life.

It's easy to get caught up in the smaller and unimportant things in life. However, regardless of whether we are upset about who has the shiniest sword or who drives the priciest car, none of it really matters. When moss grows over the buildings and symbols we once thought were powerful and great, what will truly be significant in God's eyes?

That is a question that I asked myself as I wandered these crumbling cities of ghosts.

It's one act to see things, its another to see things as they really are.

Let's work toward the latter.  Have a great weekend!

The sweet, the sacred, and the surprising

It was a typical Friday afternoon, walking to the Western Wall for Shabbat... ok, maybe it wasn't that typical... when I experienced one of the most special experiences of my young life. The Western, or Wailing, Wall does not hold much more than historical significance to me. It is beautiful, it is ancient, it has stood the test of time for millenia, but its function of securing the temple disappeared with the destruction of Herod's temple.



However, as I walked back onto the stone courtyard, with the cool air whipping my hair and the Jewish prayers and music filling my ears, I realized why this place HAS BECOME sacred to me. Night fell over the city of Jerusalem and the football-stadium-like white lights clicked on to illuminate the Wall. Wow. Surreal. The Western Wall is divided into two sections, one for the men and the other for the women. As the women of the Jerusalem Center group approached the wall, I noticed an even larger and more reverent crowd than the one I had experienced just a few days earlier. I was touched by the young girls, about my age, that left the wall with puffy eyelids and tear-stained cheeks. I was captivated by the deep, hazel eyes of the wrinkled grandmothers as they read passages of the Torah. There was a live energy about the place, a feeling of reverence and wonder. This place is sacred to me because of how sacred it is to these beautiful, wonderful people that I am coming to know and understand better during my time in the Middle East.

As I pressed through the throng toward the wall, my eyes continued to scan the crowd until they lighted on a warm and strikingly familiar face. For a moment, my jaw slightly dropped as confusion, and then disbelief, registered across my features. Thoughtfully staring at the wall, only a few feet to my left, was Sister Julie B. Beck. For those who may not know Sister Beck, she is the inspirational and marvelous President over all of the women of the LDS Church. She presides over millions of women all over the world. The odds that she would be in Israel, standing beside me at the wall, are impossibly small.

A little dazed, I gently worked my way through the crowd until I was at her side. We drew closer to the wall together as we discussed her visit to the Holy Land 13 years earlier and the beauty in the devotion of the women around us. "Is this how we approach our temples?" she asked. She was so warm, so regal, so impressive. She is such a role model for me and millions of women around the globe. When we were nearly to the wall, she touched my elbow and whispered "..here, you go first." I reached out and touched the cold stone, the ridges smooth under my fingertips from the millions of hands that had brushed against it's surface. In a moment, Sister Beck put her palm against the wall close to mine. A smile broke out upon my face as the reality of what was happening finally hit me. I was standing at the holiest site in Judaism, at a temple where my Savior had walked 2000 years before, with Sister Julie B. Beck. It is not often that we encounter life-changing experiences with our heroes, but on Friday night, I was blessed more than I ever dared hope I would be.

My night at the Western Wall was exquisite, surprising, sweet, chilling, and sacred. The Jewish people shared a magic moment with me, a moment where they mourn, rejoice, and honor the Sabbath together.

I now carry with me a new-found respect for the Holy Places in my life. The next time I approach the beautiful, white walls of the temple, I'm going to remember to be a little more reverent, a little more thoughtful, and much more thankful.

Happy shabbat everyone!