"No, you can't get baptized. Not until you are out of my house!"

To Chantelle and I’s total confusion, my phone was vibrating on the desk.

Who is calling on a Wednesday night??? 

Chantelle and I had moved down to Arizona during the middle of the pandemic. We hadn’t met anyone without a mask covering their face let alone made any real friends that would call us this late.

I picked up the phone hesitantly.

"Hi Brother and Sister Fitzgerald, the members that we usually teach with bailed. Would you guys be willing to stop by the Church and help us teach a young girl named Madison?"

Ahh right, missionaries.

“Right now?” I looked back at my computer screen. I was in the middle of editing a video.

Glancing over at Chan, she gives me the eyebrows.

 “Ok yeah. Sure. Hold on, we'll run over real quick."

We soon found ourselves in the middle of an empty relief society room leaning back on our chairs and eating snow cones with a small group of young women and missionaries. Snow cones make fast friends, so when I found out that Madison had been meeting with the missionaries for years I wasn’t afraid to ask:

“Wait wait wait, you’ve been investigating for years?! So what’s the deal? You’re not convinced of the Book of Mormon yet or what?”

Madison skirted the details, but slowly revealed that her mother wouldn’t approve of her getting baptized until she was out of the house. She still had a year or so before she turned 18 so…that was that. She respected the decision. Until then, snow cones and weekly study sessions with her friends that introduced her to the church.

Our quick missionary substitute session turned into a weekly occurrence, and it soon became our Wednesday Night tradition. Bahama Bucks and BOM, crowded around a tiny table in the big empty relief society room.

At least once a visit, we would catch a glimpse of Madison’s authentic spiritual journey with the Church and her belief in what Jesus Christ meant to her. The lack of support from her mom and the tough environment of high school didn’t make believing easy. Madison was still figuring out how to deal with her anxiety, and it wasn’t particularly easy for her to express her feelings on the spot when the missionaries asked difficult questions.

But one night, the room got quiet, and Madison dropped into a sincere tone. She explained in a quiet voice that every time she had a rough day at school or work and felt particularly anxious – she would drive her little beige Camry to the parking lot of the Mesa Arizona temple and just sit. Sit in her car and feel the peace that came from sitting outside the Lord’s house.

Three sides of the building are beautiful, with orange trees covering the grounds and little paths to enjoy the meticulously maintained desert plants and trees. I have photographed the temple on many occasions, but every time I visit I think of Madison parked in her old beige camry in the lot out back, just waiting to enter and experience the beauty and peace inside.

Years later, Chantelle and I were lucky enough to stop by Madison’s baptism. Walking into a chapel packed to the brim with friends that had come to support her, we knew that she was in good hands. 

I know that Madison had frequented the parking lots of both the Mesa and Gilbert temple, but the last picture in this set is one of the little Mesa Temple windows you can see when parked on the street. I love the warmth you can feel from the tiniest sliver of light coming from the windows. There is nothing like the peace that comes from visiting the Temple, even if it’s just visiting the empty parking lot.