"the choice" ch-5

"in which I learn to listen"

I have many fond memories of the time I spent traveling. I saw some of the most beautiful country in the world and I really began to see things in a different way. It's when I felt my photographers eye beginning to really take shape.

I'll never forget the first time I saw "the tree of Utah" popping up out of the salt flats along a highway of nothing. Seriously, nothing. In areas like that I would put my trusty old Buick on cruise control and turn sideways with my legs up on the bench seat next to me and just drive. (I know...it's a wonder I'm not dead).

I remember the breathtaking view from Donner Pass in NV, the charming ski resort town in CO, the "curl up and dye" salon in a small MT town who gave me my first professional dye job and her house tucked back in the mountains where I'm pretty sure bigfoot lives.

There was the lady in Salt Lake who gave everybody a hug when then came or left from her house. Even me, a complete stranger. But it was no ordinary hug. You know how in European countries they kiss both cheeks? (at least they do in the movies...) Well, she would hug both sides. She'd hug with her head to the left then she'd pull back and say "We can't leave the other side out!" and she'd hug again to the right.

I remember searching for some caves with hieroglyphs, but never finding them. I ended up on some sort of private military testing ground. Oops.

I also got lost a lot. But I didn't mind. I learned my way around eventually and I saw a lot more cool stuff.

I remember driving down through Sanpete County towards the Manti temple and seeing it rise up as if from nowhere. A castle in the distance. I took my time on this day. I stopped along the highway several times to take pictures of different things and I sat outside the Manti Temple for quite some time. My motivation for going there was to get a picture for my parents. (I used to take b/w film pictures and after I'd print them, I'd paint them with oils to add a muted color to the image.) My parents were sealed in Manti and I'd always wanted to go. It was then, sitting on the grounds across the street from the Manti temple that I was truly filled with a desire to receive my own endowments.

In fact, I loved it there so much that I began dreaming about moving there after my mission so I could buy a little house with some land and live a quiet life in the middle of nowhere with a few animals, a garden, a lot of books and a darkroom for my photography. I'd take beautiful pictures and get famous from my quaint little cottage. Obviously I'd be single because LDS guys didn't know I existed. (I was a little dramatic with my daydreams)

On my next weekend home I began to prepare to go to the temple. I took the temple prep classes over the next few weeks and on November 5th, 1999, I went through the Portland Temple for the first time. I can only describe that day as a day filled with more love than I had ever experienced at one time. Many of my singles ward friends, all my extended family, and Matt made the trip with me.

After that day I determined to attend the temple weekly and I did. I began to grow by leaps and bounds and I began to understand how the Lord speaks to me. It was over the next few weeks that I realized something was missing in my fabulous world of long distance travel, interesting people and glamour shots.

Using the words of the scriptures, the Lord told me that I needed to serve. The thought consumed me. Every prayer I said, every time I opened my scriptures, every new ward I attended while traveling, I felt the same thing. "As long as you're not at home, you can't serve in my church. You must hold a calling now. It's time to go home."

And this time, I listened.