A few weeks ago DJ called me on the way home from Park City, all in a rush. "Can you find a babysitter for the girls?"

We talked fast. Then he got on the line with everyone he knew (with a recommend) to see if they could help out at the temple. Volunteer time! 6:00 pm - whenever the jobs done. Everyone was busy. Except his Momma, my Momma, Jeff, Kira and myself. (2 other employees of the construction company heading the renovation were also there, already at work. See events below!)

We got to the temple and peeked in the back door. All was dark, and lined with plastic and fresh sheet rock. DJ materialized from within, then decked us out in white head to toe painters suits. We scanned our recommends at a work computer and signed in on a roster. In we went! With tennis shoes!

Our task was to caulk the ceiling of all the newly renovated rooms. Every seam, every hole, every screw. Fireproofing, by order of the Fire Marshal. No small task. Mom wouldn't see me climb the scaffolding so I navigated it around the new special events waiting room, and swept and tidied tools and taped hallway carpet while she and Kira squeezed themselves between metal ceiling supports and electrical wires with caulk guns in hand.

It was really very funny. We looked like marshmallows. How strange to speak to one another in normal tones, and lug saws and hammers and floor lights and large yellow scaffolding around inside the Holy walls. I suppose the Lord appreciates a good renovation, because the spirit was still there amidst the dust. I felt very at ease and happy the whole evening. Privileged really. Even when I cut my finger on a knife that fell out of some tool bags I was moving.

The only not so pleasant surprise was running into a certain Mike from my past, no makeup, glasses, hair in a bun and clearly pregnant in a marshmallow suit. Just the way you want to say "Hi, how's it going?" to the last guy you locked lips with before you starting dating your husband. In fact, I sort of had to dump the guy when I fell in love with DJ.

Awwwwwkward. I didn't recognize him, but he knew me. Not because of my (no doubt) lovely resemblance to my 18 year old self, but because he and DJ got to be great buddies the week before while tearing out walls and mirrors and cabinets and other serious lifting. I have no idea how it came to be known that Mike and I knew one another. I am so glad to have discovered throughout the evening that he served a mission and is married to a (no doubt) beautiful Brazilian girl and doing very well. We actually had a good time catching up and sharing tidbits about our lives, you know, after the initial "Mike who?" (I must make note that the "unpleasentness" was not in meeting this old friend, but only in my obvious goofish-ness upon our re-introduction. What grace I posses!)

I thought as we left the temple about how lucky I am to know my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. So much of the world stumbles around in the dark wondering, not knowing God. And here I was, at His very house, cleaning and caulking and basking in the spirit. Happy in my knowledge of the gospel, and my nearness to Him. The temple glowed pink and bright in the setting sun.

We worked until 9:30. Jeff asks, "Do you think we can deduct 3 hours wage from our tithing this month?"Ha, Ha. No. Better not.