Utah's highest peak rose dramatically before a small Church group on a backpacking adventure. A bishop, two youth leaders and two young men (one the bishop's son) set out to reach their destination — Kings Peak.

The plan was simple. The party would hike in Utah's Uinta Mountains an estimated four hours the first day, set up base camp and relax until morning when they would make the seven-hour round trip hike to the summit. On the third day the group would break camp and return home. Each person was expected to come prepared for the trip, carrying his own food and camping supplies.

Soon, however, the bishop realized he had a serious problem: despite previous hiking experience, he had minimized the distance and elevation of the hike and overestimated his ability. It took the group twice as long as expected to reach base camp. The bishop knew the length and difficulty of the trip was his fault.

Contemplating the next day's journey, the bishop knew that, even without a pack, he could not ascend the summit and he told the others to traverse the peak without him. Early the next morning the others set off for their destination, leaving the bishop behind.

As he sat at base camp with his heart still racing from the previous day and looked at the summit, he wept. He could see where he had intended and wanted to be, and where his group now was, but understood that choices he had made over an entire lifetime had failed to provide what was required at the moment and, in spite of desire, nothing could be changed immediately.

He thought of the others on the same journey who helped him along, but could not carry him to their destination, and realized they were now experiencing what he could not. The bishop longed to be with the group, especially with his son, to lead him and share the achievement, but the mountain he could not traverse now stood between them.

The bishop's real-life physical journey is a metaphor for the spiritual journey each of us must climb during life on Earth. Instead of the highest peak in any given state or nation, the "mountain of the Lord's house," or the temple, becomes an important destination along life's path.

In a passage that has been applied to the Salt Lake Temple, Isaiah prophesied:

"And it shall come to pass in the last days, that the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it.

"And many people shall go and say, Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord" (Isaiah 2: 2-3).

Church members must prepare for the temple with the same vigilance that backpackers would prepare to climb the highest peaks. And as the bishop discovered, although others can help us along the way, we cannot be carried.

Preparations for both physical and spiritual journeys are personal.

"I plead with you, as one who loves you, to prepare yourselves to come to the House of the Lord," said President Gordon B. Hinckley in Guayaquil, Ecuador, on July 31, 1999.

Standing in a meeting a few weeks after his return from his backpacking adventure, the bishop shared his experience and pleaded with ward members to prepare themselves to attend the upcoming dedication of a new temple in their district.

He spoke of the tremendous grief that comes as personal choices and inadequate preparation leave one to look at the mountain while others partake of its beauty and blessings.

Speaking from the the BYU Center for Near Eastern Studies in Jerusalem on March 21, 1999, President Hinckley offered simple direction to help members complete their spiritual journey.

"Get a temple recommend and never, never as long as you live think anything, say anything, do anything which would make you ineligible for that temple recommend," he said. "And if you will live up to all the requirements of a temple recommend, you may be sure that you are living the gospel and doing what the Lord expects of you."

The choices we make over a lifetime prepare us to reach a spiritual summit. With the temple in our sites, and by living in accordance with all that a temple recommend requires, we will celebrate the joy of our accomplishments and guarantee that, unlike the bishop, we will not be left behind.