The cosy, sandwiched-in experience of reaching the heavens chorusing Handel's glorious "Messiah" on a wintry December evening. And the swelling tones of the great organ when played by a master.
The glowing warmth of the communal Spirit one frigid winter night when we were participating in the live Nativity.
Enjoying a very special measure of the Spirit surrounding stake conferences. One spring when I went out back to enjoy the warm sun between choir rehearsal and the conference, I was arrested by the wondrous beauty of some irises in a small bed there. As He had once before through beloved flowers, Heavenly Father witnessed something to me through a supernatural glow in these gorgeous blooms--something about his welcoming acceptance of my service that morning.
On another occasion at the same point in proceedings I was sitting alone and completely relaxed in my very favorite position in the Tabernacle--the front choir seats, gazing down towards that glorious painting by Minerva Teichert that was on the back wall. There was an open door to a small room to the right of the painting, and my eye fell on the beautiful, guava-pink upholstered chair at the entrance to it. The sunlight from a window was pouring down upon it. At that moment I became aware that one of our pioneer forebears had graced us with his presence and was sitting in that chair at that moment. How grateful I was and am for the special dispensation of being able to experience this.
I'm sure we all have glowing and unforgettable experiences connected with this precious edifice.* Certainly those who originally worked on it must be weeping in heaven at its demise.
With love, Grandma
*perhaps the spiritual ones were enhanced/received in accordance with our willingness to prepare ourselves for them?
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