A Temple Testimony

I LOVE to see the Temple.

The Twin Falls Temple in Idaho was the site of my “wrong turn” at the very start of the softening of my heart. Where I stopped and “felt” the building radiate out into the street.

April 20, 2013:  I went on my first proxy Baptism trip to the Seattle Temple just shy of a month after my own baptism. It was that day when I started my father’s work and my forgiveness of him.

October 19, 2013:  I spent my first birthday after my baptism, performing proxy baptisms for my family in the Salt Lake City Temple. Afterwards, I enjoyed a wonderful lunch with the first and only Priesthood Holder who ever asked me out on a date. They served spaghetti at the Salt Lake Temple cafeteria. That's something you don't forget. Fortunately, since I was not yet endowed I was in my street clothes, not a white Temple dress. That was the last date Hyrum and I had, but we remain friends and he has since developed a friendship with my husband.

May 13, 2014:  I received my Endowments at the Seattle Temple, with 3 friends from 2 different Wards. Later that year, I went through Mt. Timpanogos Temple with one of my Sister Missionaries for the proxy Endowments of both my grandmothers.

Since May of 2014, I have befriended many Temple workers in many Wards and Branches. I have even roomed with one while I was needing a place to stay in close proximity to my grandchildren for a holiday season. She helped bolster my Testimony on a daily, sometimes hourly basis. Marian helped me understand Personal Revelation. A Returned Missionary, she helped me trust God. That is a gift I don’t know how to ever repay.

When I visit a Ward, I find myself looking around. The Temple Workers seem to “glow” with light. I went up to an older, beautiful lady one day in the Lacey, Washington Stake Center that I was visiting. I felt I HAD to know; “Did she work at the Temple?” Yes, in fact, she confirmed that she did. The “Glow” had been apparent across the room.

My Patriarchal Blessing explicitly states that I will bless my family on both sides of the veil with the work I perform in the Temple. In the past two years, I have been blessed to catch rides with Temple Workers on many occasions, giving me the opportunity to perform an entire shift’s worth of Proxy Ordinances while I was there.

Snowflake, Arizona Temple

I look at the Temple Ordinance workers with gratitude and amazement. Even though sometimes rather elderly, they seem almost spry. Their minds are clear and their memories amazingly retentive.

This spring, just short of my Temple Recommend needing renewed; I felt an overwhelming compulsion. My best friend (and Visiting Teacher), Anne, had been urging me to not only go to the Temple to perform Proxy Ordinances while she and my other friends worked; she wanted me to volunteer to work there too!

Anne works in the Laundry of the Snowflake Temple, she suggested that I volunteer to work there also. I hesitated, because doing my own laundry is difficult enough for me with a broken back and other chronic pain. But that didn’t deter her. She was convinced I should be working in the Temple with her and several of our friends in our Branch.

In early March, as I was speaking to our Branch President about another matter, the compulsion felt overwhelming. I was attempting to open his office door to leave. The Holy Spirit whispered, “Turn around and ask him…” I knew what the Spirit was speaking to me about. The compulsion was incredibly strong; it was if I could not turn the doorknob I was attempting to reach. “Turn around and ask him,” the Spirit continued to whisper, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to appear too eager, feeling there must be some requirement I didn’t meet. There is no way I felt qualified to work at the Temple. But the Spirit would not cease, so I turned around.

After asking my Branch President if there was some way I could help in the Temple, some place I could volunteer, and if my services would be adequate, I felt relieved of the compulsion for a few days. That Friday when I visited the Snowflake Temple during Anne’s shift, it returned in the Celestial Room.

“Go talk to the Matron,” the whispering Holy Spirit urged. “Why would I want to do that?!” In shock I answered in my thoughts.

“Tell her you want to work here, tell her your experience.” The Spirit would not let up.

I entered the dressing room to ready (and steady) myself. It was crowded, more crowded than I had ever seen. I sought refuge in the lavatory, but even that room seemed overwhelmingly crowded. I prayed for courage in the stall.

Sitting in the Matron’s office, I felt silly to have been so nervous. The Assistant Matron was on duty that night and was a genteel lady with a radiant countenance. She glowed. As I explained the Spirit’s (and Anne’s) urgings, and my experience as a retired computer programmer; she shared with me that there was a spot opening up in the Temple Office. A elderly couple that had been with the office since the opening of the Snowflake Temple in 2002 was retiring. Their shifts would not be easy to fill and they would be missed.

I felt a reassurance from my Heavenly Father. There was a service I felt confident I could perform. To be able to share my skills on computers and office work with the Snowflake Temple and help perform the work that needs to be done, felt like an incredible blessing. The Matron seemed happy to be placing my name on the lists to be approved by my Branch and Stake Presidents.

Over the next couple of weeks, during my Fridays at the Temple, I got to know the Temple Presidency through a couple of very informal interviews. By the time my volunteering in the office was approved by the Stake President, my Temple Recommend was up for renewal for the first time. I had to go in for my interviews again

Then it happened, I received a call asking me to come in for an interview at the beginning of my regular Friday visit. That is a day I will NEVER forget. As my friend Anne escorted me into the Temple President’s office, Elder Bradley Foster of the Seventy appeared to be looking for something on the President’s desk. He engaged me in a brief conversation before the Temple President entered. I wish I remembered that he was the one who gave the talk, “It’s Never Too Early and It’s Never Too Late,” in the October 2015 General Conference that spoke to my heart, but I was too overwhelmed by the situation. When the Temple President entered, I was surprised when I wasn’t to be interviewed, but quickly set apart as an Office Worker, and sent off to meet the rest of the office staff, Recorder and the Assistant Recorder.

I made quick friends with the other new worker and briefly met the retiring couple. My life in the weeks since has been blessed as, among other things, I've been able to learn my tasks at the Temple Office very quickly and life at home seems easier too. I look forward to my Friday Evenings in the Temple every week.

My Testimony of Temple work is solid. I have a powerful Testimony of the Holy Spirit and I strongly agree with President Monson’s directive to “NEVER postpone a prompting.”

I leave this Testimony with you in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

A Different Kind of Happy Father's Day: Temple Work as Therapy

I am a survivor. I didn't realize the extent of the abuse that I had survived, until repressed memories surfaced three years ago. Even before then, I knew that "Father's Day" never conjured up the happiness in me that it seemed it ought to have.

I have experienced years of psychotherapy for the abuse I knew I sustained at both my father's and my stepfather's hands. But the anger and disappointment remained.

Four years ago, Father's Day 2009 marked the violent end to my marriage of 20 years, although we wouldn't actually separate for nine more months, nor was the divorce final until we had been married 22 years. But the marriage was over on Father's Day.
Yet another memory for that seemingly ominous day.

Ronald George Slighte 1967

This year is so different. Having the gift of being more in touch with my Heavenly Father, it was He that led me to a method of forgiveness for my temporal father, Ronald George Slighte.

The Temple.


When I took the information for my father and for his father, both of whoms deaths had been trageties towards our entire family simply by their manner, to the Temple; I was rewarded in abundance.


The freedom that is forgiveness. Something not many people actually achieve, as many have told me that they couldn't imagine forgiving similar abuse. I didn't think I had the capability either. Truth be told, I wouldn't have if I had embraced the restored Gospel.

When I met my best friend in 2010, in him I saw a father. He was a real "Dad" to his kids. Even while fighting a battle with cancer, the true integrity of his motto "family is FOREVER!" shocked and entranced me. It was through him that I started learning more about God.

My path over the last three years has been a varied and confused one for much of the time. But when I was at my weakest, I put everything into God's hands, and I was rewarded abundantly. But when I first had the impression to take my father's name to the temple, I wasn't sure if I was ready.

This year, April 20th was a very special day. I had interviewed with my Bishop, and was deemed worthy to enter the Temple on a provisional recommend to perform baptisms of the dead for my ancestors.

George Ronald Slighte, Margaret Florence Clara Slighte (nee Foley),
Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh) & Thomas Slighte
(left to right)

I was baptized in the name of several of my female ancestors on my father's side, including my paternal grandma, Margaret Florence Clara Foley Slighte McGhee King (a mouthful, I know!).
I then requested to be present when the proxy for my father and his father was baptized and confirmed in their names.


The young man who was baptized in my male ancestor's names had no idea the gift he gave me. He looked embarrassed by my tearful reaction upon hearing the names of my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, being confirmed. The Temple workers were empathetic; passing me a tissue with eyes full of understanding.

That day I was gifted with an intense relief, but it wasn't the end of it. I had a mind to write about it when it happened, but felt that there would be more to write about. I had no idea how much my feelings, and then my life, would change.

By being able to release the anger and pain I felt towards my father, and then the disappointment in him regarding his death; and give him up to God to be taught what he needs to know on the other side, I feel free. I no longer carry the burden on my back of his abuse or his suicide after not having seen or talked to him for over 17 years.

In the past few months since taking their names to the temple, I have been rewarded with the absence of the memories that had come to me after having been repressed most of my life. God has granted me the gift of the ability to remember the happy times. The times that God was there in our lives.

My father is now in God's hands.

My Heavenly Father will take care of it all. To both of them, I say "Happy Father's Day. I love you."

But it is my Heavenly Father, to whom I say, "Thank you, for letting me be a "Daddy's Girl" again!"
His heavenly Love and Lighte to all on Father's Day.

Baptism of the Dead

So, here is a confession: I was hesitant to share this particular blog on my Facebook pages due to the fact that I know that the "Baptism of the Dead" practice in my church has been known to be a controversial topic amongst those not of the church.

So, in true "ME" fashion, I decided to pray and write about my feelings on the matter. So, without further adieu:

What are "Baptisms of the Dead" to me?

The way my little brain understands it....it's as if Christ, himself would walk into the waiting room of hell and point at your ancestor and say, "Hey, you there, one of your descendants put in a good word for you, would you like to come with me?"

They still have FREE use of their agency (freedom of choice). But Christ is giving them a "second chance" via a descendant who has baptized them in the Temple.

Here are a couple of personal examples for me:

1. My grandfather: He was a Christian but who after a severe head injury succumbed to suicide.

I feel his mother and wife, two Margaret Slightes, begging him to come to heaven.
Why wouldn't I do anything and everything in MY power to help him?

2. My father: a loud atheist all of my life.

He succumbed to evil in the form of taking his own life, after having lived a life so sinful that some would call him a demon himself.

His mother and grandparents know his soul was tragically injured by his father's untimely death and all of the circumstances surrounding it. He was also profoundly effected as a child by the abuse by a step-father.
His abuse of me and my brother has left me in a position where forgiveness is difficult.

In his case, IF I were to submit his name to the Temple for baptism of the dead, to me it would be a signal that *I* have forgiven him for his horrendous sins against me, and I am asking God to do the same.

Past that; if Jesus allows him a second chance to change on the other side of the veil, who am I to say no?

Just sayin.

Taking Maggie to the Temple

In the very few days since my baptism and gift of the Holy Ghost (it's only Wednesday, and this was last weekend) I have been covered in blessings.

During a visit to the Family History Center on Tuesday, I was blessed beyond measure, and those blessings have continued.

My paternal grandmother:
Margaret Florence Clara Foley Slighte McGhee King

I had intended to take "the three Margarets" to the temple with me (both of my grandmothers and my paternal great-grandmother, my Nana, are named Margaret) when I heard about the "newbie temple trip" coming up towards the end of April.

It was as if Nana stepped out of the veil, and said, don't forget my George. He loves God as much as I do!

Now I know why I heard that. I had contacted a distant cousin by email who had some information about our branch of the family listed on her own family tree. When she returned my email, she brought with her stories that I never imagined.

1915 the Slighte boys
Thomas, Ray & baby George

Including the stories of after my grandfather, George's death, how his brothers and others in the family and in their community were extremely mean spirited to both his mother and widow (the Margarets) who continued to love and mourn for George.


George was the baby of the family. Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh)'s baby boy. The youngest of three living boys, four in total. One having been lost in infancy to illness.

Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh)
and George Ronald Slighte
1915

On April 1st is Nana's birthday. She was born in 1879. She lived until 1972. While in my mother's attic, I have come across many many note cards that were sent by "Nana Slighte" (I NOW understand she was known as Maggie Slighte), to me and my parents while I was a baby. She was very very anxious to see and meet me when I was born.

Stories are coming to me now, from a distant cousin through emails. I will soon know more about Maggie Slighte (1879-1974). She loved my grandfather. She loved her family. And I know she loved me.  Her faith in our Lord was deep.

Unknown to me, I began going by the same nickname she used, in 2010. Pretty cool.  However, recently, due to me hearing that my mother, who named me Margaret Ellen after her mother (who went by "Ellen"), that she hates the nickname "Maggie", I reneged and began introducing myself as Margaret.

The funny part? Even my mother has a difficult time calling me the name she named me. I have also had a difficulty "renaming" my "self-talk"... falling into calling myself "Maggie" on many occasions.

This time, it is intentional:  Maggie Slighte will take Maggie Slighte to the temple.
I will be taking George's name to the Temple as well. Don't worry, Nana, I won't forget your baby boy. 

George R. Slighte, Margaret F.C. Slighte (nee Foley), Margaret T. Slighte (nee Walsh), and Thomas A. Slighte
(from left to right)