These Houses Aren't Built in a Day

A work assignment Friday takes me to the new Provo City Center Temple, which is under construction. When we arrive, we are immediately clothed in required hard hats, fluorescent orange vests and safety glasses. (As Missy says later on, this is the closest I will ever come to working in construction.)

We're greeted by the organized chaos of an under-construction temple grounds — thick, damp sand and gravel (not welcoming surfaces for my Echo dress shoes); the screeching sound of metal and wood being cut; the buzzing crackle of welding rods; the groan of cranes lifting heavy loads; large trucks beeping as they back up. Oh, and it's about 30 degrees, which after two hours outside feels like negative 50. It's all a fascinating contrast to the serene atmosphere of a finished, dedicated temple.

Friday's visit reminds me that these remarkable Houses of the Lord aren't built in a day — rather, they are the result of the steady growth of the Church, the financial sacrifices of its members, years of inspired planning by architects and more years of tough, diligent labor by the men in hard hats. 

Sounds like an apt metaphor for life, doesn't it? Namely, our greatest achievements are the result of vision, patience, inspiration, dedication and hard labor. The process is often messy and confusing (at least to eyes untrained to recognize divine design), but if we stay the course we eventually get there.

I learn that a man works up there. His name is Mike. He stays up there All. Day. Long.
Consequently, he has to bring a toilet and lunch with him.

I hate to admit this, but Provo can be beautiful in some ways.

Getting warm inside the temple next to the flame-thrower heater.

Cameraman Dave captures some b-roll of the men in hard hats.