Growing up in Cardston I looked at Old Chief Mountain every day of my life. Looking at it never fails to touch me deeply. Every time I go back to Cardston and see old Chief gradually rise above the horizon, I feel like I am home. Seeing Old Chief as a back drop to the temple is even more touching to me. I suppose that is why this story told by Cindy Behr had such an impact on me. Cindy was one of Lisa’s childhood friends and her and her husband Wilf were pretty close to us when we lived in Edmonton.
I have also climbed the peak of Old Chief and it does truly look very different up close than it does when viewed from Cardston. Here is Cindy’s story.
Twenty-five years, plus, is
a significant amount of time to consider the question, "How is God the
same yesterday, today and forever, when I don't recognize the God in the Old
Testament of the Bible as the same God I feel I know today?"
This
has gnawed at my being. I've prayed to know and understand. Sometimes more
fervently than others, but none the less, it sat with me. That's the back
story.
Now, skip ahead with me until the month of March in
the year 2020. The precise date I can't remember, nor is it significant. The
main reason I mention it, is that it was the last day of scheduled appointments
at the Edmonton, Alberta LDS Temple before being closed to patrons due to the
COVID 19 epidemic. I was a temple worker/volunteer in the baptistery and
laundry areas. When I was called to do this wonderfully fulfilling work, I was
given a blessing in which I was told I'd have many spiritual experiences and
witness miracles. I'd be filled with inspiration and find truth. I don't
remember how long I'd actually served in the temple, but I'd say about a year
or more, and although I'd seen many families, youth and groups gather to do
service on behalf of departed ancestors, and I'd been greatly uplifted and
edified by morning devotionals, I hadn't felt huge inspiration or truth
revealed. It didn't matter really; I was happy to serve and be part of the
proceedings at the temple. Here we were, closing the doors, for who knew how
long?
Then, as I was walking the hallway, I noticed a new
painting. I knew, at a glance, it was Old Chief Mountain in Southern Alberta.
It wasn't the usual picturesque view you'd see in most paintings or pictures of
Ol Chief, but I knew it immediately. It was a view facing towards the mountain
standing in the East and looking at it towards the West. I even said out loud,
"oh look, it's Old Chief!" A sister passing by quickly retorted
scoffingly, "that's no Old Chief I've ever seen".
Then in a flash, an epiphany of light entered my mind.
Tears welling up in my eyes as I finally had the answer, God is the same
yesterday, today and forever! It's our perspective and experience that changes,
not him.
You see I had gone hiking in Montana Glacier National
Park years prior to seeing the painting. We'd driven across the Canadian border
into the US and had used the highway East of Old Chief. I knew this view. The
other sister in the temple didn't recognize it as Old Chief because she hadn't
seen that perspective or had experience of seeing it from that side. When I
spoke with a temple matron about my discovery, she explained that she had
actually hiked Old Chief and it was completely different up close, walking its
mass, than you'd ever know from a distance.
Aha! The closer you get, the more you really know the
mountain, and conversely the farther you go from it, the more you may not even
know or believe that it exists at all.
This is our relationship with our Heavenly Father. He
is the same always. This was my answer, my miracle of inspiration and
truth.
On a side thought and note, the painting was
commissioned by Dave Henderson. He took the original photo used as a reference
for the artist. He was the temple president at the time. The first presidency
had to approve the commission and hanging of this artwork, and I feel it was a
great kindness for Brother David Henderson and that he feels it was for him,
but that painting will always remind me of God's goodness and answered prayer.
I can feel that igniting light to my bones just pondering that experience. The
painting was for me.
Cindy Behr.