I am seriously at such a loss to explain how I'm feeling right now. Early, early this morning the Provo Tabernacle caught fire. When I first heard it I don't think that I truly grasped what was going on. I envisioned a small fire, with minimal damage, that would be fairly easily repaired. Around 7 am Eric sent me a text message saying that the roof had collapsed, it was then that I realized that this was far more than a small fire and that there would be major, major work required to get it into functioning order again. But tonight, after doing some Christmas shopping, we went by the tabernacle itself, and I saw the damage first hand and truly understood that we may never go inside that building again. There literally are no words to express the loss. A loss to me, to the church, to the community, to everyone. Eric had already been by earlier that day, so he and Hallie stayed in the car, but I got out and stood across the street watching it continue to burn 18 hours later.
As a tear or two slipped from my eyes, I realized how great a part of my life this beautiful building had been. From church meetings, to choir performances, to graduations attended, to Christmas programs, it was a huge meeting place full of pioneer spirit.
You felt connected to those pioneers who built that building when you walked in. I think that anyone that has been in the building will never forget the beautiful, hand carved woodwork throughout it. Every time I was in there I would stare at it, and think about the pioneer craftsman who carved it for that building, and what they would think of the building now, and our lives now. The stained glass windows were another favorite. I remember thinking when I was young that the windows must have been worth a fortune, because I was sure that they had flecks of real gold in them, they were stunning. Whether the building is rebuilt or not, that artistry is gone forever, that is what makes me the most sad.
I have two very distinct memories in that building. One was when I was in Young Women, I had just been called to co-chair a stake youth conference, and they had asked me to speak in Stake Conference. (In fact, I had met with the Stake President three times in four weeks when that happened, once to be called to the committee, once to be called to co-chair the committee, and once to ask to speak in stake conference.) If you know me, I am not much of a public speaker, especially when it comes to church. I always cry, and always get embarrassed because I am crying, so I was extremely nervous to be speaking to our entire stake, in the tabernacle, with a general authority there, along with all the other nerves that go along with it. But I remember in the prayer meeting before the meeting I was to speak at, we met with the area seventy who was there to preside, and he talked about what an honor it was to be speaking in stake conference, in the tabernacle. I remember he said, "you have been asked to speak for a special purpose, you have something to say. You will be standing behind, and speaking from a pulpit where prophets and presidents of the United States have spoken, and from the stage where world famous musicians have performed, but right now it is your turn to share what the Lord would have you say." I remember being semi-empowered by that, but mostly even more terrified and pressured by it. As the time came, we took our place on the stand, and I became more nervous with each passing second. Then it was my turn, my stomach was in knots like I had never had before and I wasn't sure that I could do it. But when I reached the pulpit an overwhelming peace came over me, a peace so strong and sure, and I knew my Heavenly Father was watching over me. It was such a relief from the anxiety I had felt only moments before, that I think I started crying before I had even started talking. That experience was such a testimony builder for me, I honestly can hardly remember the talk itself, but I will never forget that feeling of peace and the testimony of the peace we can receive from the Savior I gained that day.The next one is not quite as grand, and far more recent. Like many stakes in the area we held our stake conference in that building. Hallie was maybe 18 months old, and she did not want to sit on the hard wooden benches for two hours. So Eric and I took turns walking her around the foyer, and up and down the circular stairs. On one of these trips we were walking up the stairs, and I, in a my weakness, was frustrated because we were missing everything that was being said, and thinking that it was hardly even worth coming. But I very distinctly remember being about halfway up the stairs, holding Hallie's hand and she was giggling about something, and have the impression come to mind saying, "treasure these times, because you won't get them back." It was one of those simple things that kind of caught me off guard, but that too I will never forget, I think I likely would be able to find the exact stair we were on, it was that powerful. Just that strong feeling of that we were doing what we were supposed to be doing, even if we weren't hearing every word that was being said, or being able to sit and enjoy a nice meeting, we were teaching our daughter the importance of faith, and attending church, and doing what the Lord asked.
It makes me sad that Hallie won't ever have experiences like that in that building, or have that place to feel connected to people she never knew. I am sad for me, that I may never step foot inside that building again and if I ever do that it won't be the same. I am sad that I won't be able to see it as it was as we drive down University Avenue. There are so many things that I will miss about that beautiful structure.
But on the same hand, there is a reason for everything. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for it, even if it was just to teach us that it was just a building, and that that connection and spirit is within us, not within those walls. Either way, it's amazing how you much you don't realize something is a part of you until it is gone.
