Nothing like yummy, fluffy, warm cinnamon rolls before church!
And while those luscious cinnamon rolls digested in my belly, I had a marvelous prompting.
That prompting was "Why do you go to church?"
I had never thought about it before and this is what I came up with:
When I was 16 years old, I didn't get asked to junior prom. I was devastated and cried for a week straight. The weekend of the dance, I didn't want to go to church. All my peers would be wearing their beautiful prom dresses to church & I wouldn't be. Which means everybody would know I didn't get asked. As an unconfident 16 year old, that was humiliation to the fullest. So, I decided that I would not be attending church that weekend. However, my wailing & gnashing of teeth didn't scare my father. He sat me down, looked me straight in the eye and asked: "Why do we go to church, Elisabeth?"
I wiped my nose and patted my cheeks dry. I sniffed and replied with a teenage sneer: "I don't know".
My dad shook his head & with his 'youbetternotmesswithme' voice, stated "You're going to church."
I. Was. Ticked.
I went to church, but I was not happy about it.
I look back on that experience now, however, and I can say I understand why my father made me go to church. I don't go to church to show off my beautiful prom dress or to socialize with all the Relief Society sisters. I go to church because I know that Heavenly Father lives. I know he loves me and I return that love by fulfilling my covenants & taking the sacrament. THAT'S why I go to church and that's why I will ALWAYS go to church.