88. A miracle in the St. George Temple --
I just received this e mail message from my sister, and I want to pass it on. It truly is inspiring. The Temple is truly the place for the Spirit of the Holy Ghost to give the right inspiration to people. I have felt that Spirit there, and I believe when we have problems, that is truly the place to go, and pray. (I have added the colored highlights, and Temple pictures.)
I think if you are not aware of this event, you will find this email interesting. The Temple in question is the St. George Temple.
This is Brother Blaine M. Yorgason's "vantage Point" of an experience that he had a little more than a year ago.
A beautiful picture of the St. George Temple, where Wayne and I were married on September 24, 1955
POLICE IN THE TEMPLE
Blaine M. Yorgason
On the Saturday late shift, 15 December 2012, I was called to the front Recommend Desk where I saw two police officers. As the Assistant Recorder I asked how I could help them, and was told there had been an accident involving a young child. "We need you to find the mother," one of them said, "and bring her to us as quickly as possible."
With the help of the sisters at the Family File Desk we isolated the session she was on, and I went up, stopped the session, and asked the surprised officiator if a Sister Rita Paige was in the room. Looking worried, a woman rose to her feet and came toward me. I led her out into the foyer, told her there had been an accident involving one of her children, and informed her that the police were waiting downstairs to take her to the hospital’s emergency room.
Anxiously she followed me down to the sisters’ locker room and went in to change back into her street clothes. Feeling bad that I didn't know enough to tell her more, I asked a Sister Ordinance Worker to bring her to the front desk as soon as possible, and then I went there to wait with the police.
A little later I saw her coming, walked back to meet her, and returned with her to the two officers. As soon as they realized who she was, both of them turned toward me. “Why didn’t you bring the father?” The officer who spoke seemed quite put out.
“Because you asked for the mother,” I replied.
“No,” the other officer declared, “we asked for the parents! We need them both!”
“Whatever,” I thought to myself, for I was certain they had asked only for the mother. Nevertheless I retraced my steps, once again stopped the session (the only two times I have ever stopped a session) and this time asked for Brother Bob Paige. Looking bewildered he rose to his feet and followed me into the hall. While awaiting his wife the police had told me their nine year old son had drowned in a local motel pool, but passersby had been able to revive him sufficiently to restore minimal vital signs. What they hadn’t told me was that he was exhibiting no brain activity whatsoever!
I conveyed what little information I had to Brother Paige, was amazed at his calmness, and he even stopped with me while I put the name Christian Paige (their son’s name) on the Prayer Roll. When we reached the front desk the officers were gone with Sister Paige, but another officer was just coming through the front door, and he immediately escorted Brother Paige out to his police cruiser.
Perhaps ten minutes later another officer came through the door and asked if I would gather the family together as soon as they came through the veil, and privately tell them what I could, and that if they wished to see the child they would be escorted by the police to the hospital.
I did as instructed, but by the time the people had gathered at the front door we were all informed that the child had been airlifted to Primary Children's Medical Center in Salt Lake City, so they slowly dispersed and I returned to the Recorder’s Office to continue my more normal activities.
Several times over the next few days I asked about young Christian’s welfare, but no one I asked knew anything. As I began my Thursday afternoon shift I asked our head of Temple Security, Ray Anderson, if he had heard anything, and he replied that from what he’d been told, the boy had walked out of Primary Children’s Medical Center the past Monday, feeling fine. I was both amazed and thrilled to hear this, and a little later when I could get a few minutes alone, I thanked Heavenly Father that the boy and his family had been so blessed.
Perhaps an hour or so later, President Jeppson of the Temple Presidency entered the Recorder’s Office. “Brother Yorgason,” he stated as I looked up from the computer, “I want you to know how pleased I was to hear about the life you saved last week.”
“I didn’t save anyone’s life,” I replied, certain he had me confused with someone else.
“That isn’t how I heard it,” he replied. “Weren’t you the one who assisted that family whose son drowned in a swimming pool while they were here on a Temple session with other family members?”
“Yes, but…”
“Well,” he interrupted me, “I just spoke with one of the police officers who was here that day in his official capacity, and he assured me it was you who saved the boy’s life.”
“But… I don’t understand…”
“According to him, they had requested of you that you go and find the boy’s parents as quickly as possible, and bring them to the front desk. Rather than hearing them ask for the parents, however, you heard them ask only for the mother, so it was just her you brought back with you.”
“Yes, President, I remember that.”
“Well, Blaine, that’s how you saved his life! You were listening to the Spirit. You see, even after the boy was taken to the Emergency Room with vital signs, the doctors were unable to discern any brain activity. Based upon that, they decided the boy had died and needed to be removed from life support – which also meant they needed the permission of both parents to take such action. Had you heard the word ‘Parents’ they would have both arrived in time to give their permission, and their little son would have died.
“But because you heard the word ‘Mother’ and so had to make a second trip up into the Temple to retrieve the boy’s father, thereby taking twice as long as it should have to get the parents together in the ER, you gave the Lord time to restore the child’s brain activity – his life. That is why, instead of Brother and Sister Paige giving heart-broken permission to let their child die, he was able to give his son a blessing before the child was air-lifted to PCMC in Salt Lake City, where he continued on to a quick and full recovery.”
“So what you’re saying, President, is that because I’m half deaf and move so slowly these days, the boy lived.”
President Jeppson chuckled. “No, Blaine. What I’m saying is that because you listened to the voice of the Spirit rather than the voice of men, you saved his life. Thank you, Brother, for being in tune.”
Well, since then I’ve thought much of this experience, and while I am more than grateful to have been a small part of it, I now realize that rather than moaning and groaning about the aches and pains and other vicissitudes of aging, which I honestly don’t like, it would be far more appropriate if I accepted them graciously as Divinely disguised gifts of the Spirit. After all, the Lord can turn all things to our good, which means, I suppose, that there are times when it isn’t all that bad being somewhat hard of hearing as well as maybe the slowest-moving old guy in the St. George Temple!
I think if you are not aware of this event, you will find this email interesting. The Temple in question is the St. George Temple.
This is Brother Blaine M. Yorgason's "vantage Point" of an experience that he had a little more than a year ago.
A beautiful picture of the St. George Temple, where Wayne and I were married on September 24, 1955
POLICE IN THE TEMPLE
Blaine M. Yorgason
On the Saturday late shift, 15 December 2012, I was called to the front Recommend Desk where I saw two police officers. As the Assistant Recorder I asked how I could help them, and was told there had been an accident involving a young child. "We need you to find the mother," one of them said, "and bring her to us as quickly as possible."
With the help of the sisters at the Family File Desk we isolated the session she was on, and I went up, stopped the session, and asked the surprised officiator if a Sister Rita Paige was in the room. Looking worried, a woman rose to her feet and came toward me. I led her out into the foyer, told her there had been an accident involving one of her children, and informed her that the police were waiting downstairs to take her to the hospital’s emergency room.
Anxiously she followed me down to the sisters’ locker room and went in to change back into her street clothes. Feeling bad that I didn't know enough to tell her more, I asked a Sister Ordinance Worker to bring her to the front desk as soon as possible, and then I went there to wait with the police.
A little later I saw her coming, walked back to meet her, and returned with her to the two officers. As soon as they realized who she was, both of them turned toward me. “Why didn’t you bring the father?” The officer who spoke seemed quite put out.
“Because you asked for the mother,” I replied.
“No,” the other officer declared, “we asked for the parents! We need them both!”
“Whatever,” I thought to myself, for I was certain they had asked only for the mother. Nevertheless I retraced my steps, once again stopped the session (the only two times I have ever stopped a session) and this time asked for Brother Bob Paige. Looking bewildered he rose to his feet and followed me into the hall. While awaiting his wife the police had told me their nine year old son had drowned in a local motel pool, but passersby had been able to revive him sufficiently to restore minimal vital signs. What they hadn’t told me was that he was exhibiting no brain activity whatsoever!
I conveyed what little information I had to Brother Paige, was amazed at his calmness, and he even stopped with me while I put the name Christian Paige (their son’s name) on the Prayer Roll. When we reached the front desk the officers were gone with Sister Paige, but another officer was just coming through the front door, and he immediately escorted Brother Paige out to his police cruiser.
Perhaps ten minutes later another officer came through the door and asked if I would gather the family together as soon as they came through the veil, and privately tell them what I could, and that if they wished to see the child they would be escorted by the police to the hospital.
I did as instructed, but by the time the people had gathered at the front door we were all informed that the child had been airlifted to Primary Children's Medical Center in Salt Lake City, so they slowly dispersed and I returned to the Recorder’s Office to continue my more normal activities.
Several times over the next few days I asked about young Christian’s welfare, but no one I asked knew anything. As I began my Thursday afternoon shift I asked our head of Temple Security, Ray Anderson, if he had heard anything, and he replied that from what he’d been told, the boy had walked out of Primary Children’s Medical Center the past Monday, feeling fine. I was both amazed and thrilled to hear this, and a little later when I could get a few minutes alone, I thanked Heavenly Father that the boy and his family had been so blessed.
Perhaps an hour or so later, President Jeppson of the Temple Presidency entered the Recorder’s Office. “Brother Yorgason,” he stated as I looked up from the computer, “I want you to know how pleased I was to hear about the life you saved last week.”
“I didn’t save anyone’s life,” I replied, certain he had me confused with someone else.
“That isn’t how I heard it,” he replied. “Weren’t you the one who assisted that family whose son drowned in a swimming pool while they were here on a Temple session with other family members?”
“Yes, but…”
“Well,” he interrupted me, “I just spoke with one of the police officers who was here that day in his official capacity, and he assured me it was you who saved the boy’s life.”
“But… I don’t understand…”
“According to him, they had requested of you that you go and find the boy’s parents as quickly as possible, and bring them to the front desk. Rather than hearing them ask for the parents, however, you heard them ask only for the mother, so it was just her you brought back with you.”
“Yes, President, I remember that.”
“Well, Blaine, that’s how you saved his life! You were listening to the Spirit. You see, even after the boy was taken to the Emergency Room with vital signs, the doctors were unable to discern any brain activity. Based upon that, they decided the boy had died and needed to be removed from life support – which also meant they needed the permission of both parents to take such action. Had you heard the word ‘Parents’ they would have both arrived in time to give their permission, and their little son would have died.
“But because you heard the word ‘Mother’ and so had to make a second trip up into the Temple to retrieve the boy’s father, thereby taking twice as long as it should have to get the parents together in the ER, you gave the Lord time to restore the child’s brain activity – his life. That is why, instead of Brother and Sister Paige giving heart-broken permission to let their child die, he was able to give his son a blessing before the child was air-lifted to PCMC in Salt Lake City, where he continued on to a quick and full recovery.”
“So what you’re saying, President, is that because I’m half deaf and move so slowly these days, the boy lived.”
President Jeppson chuckled. “No, Blaine. What I’m saying is that because you listened to the voice of the Spirit rather than the voice of men, you saved his life. Thank you, Brother, for being in tune.”
Well, since then I’ve thought much of this experience, and while I am more than grateful to have been a small part of it, I now realize that rather than moaning and groaning about the aches and pains and other vicissitudes of aging, which I honestly don’t like, it would be far more appropriate if I accepted them graciously as Divinely disguised gifts of the Spirit. After all, the Lord can turn all things to our good, which means, I suppose, that there are times when it isn’t all that bad being somewhat hard of hearing as well as maybe the slowest-moving old guy in the St. George Temple!
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