“Their Faces Held the Answer,” Ensign, Apr. 1995, 62
Soon after our first daughter’s birth, my husband started working hours that prevented him from attending church most Sundays. With a new baby, five young boys, and my husband no longer available to help me, getting to church became a major chore for me.
Many Sundays we would arrive late, and sometimes we didn’t get there until sacrament meeting was over and Primary and Sunday School had begun. I would spend most of my time walking the halls with the baby, who often was fussy because the meetings were held during her nap time.
After several weeks of such struggling, I was exhausted. We were going to church more out of habit than for anything else. I began to ask myself, Why even bother? I had always believed that attending church was the right thing to do, and yet I wondered. It seemed that the only results I was getting were stiff muscles and a headache.
I began to pray for guidance. I asked my Father in Heaven why I should go to church when it was so difficult. I knew in theory that attending church was right, but I needed to know why it was important for me personally. When I didn’t receive an answer right away, I continued to ask for several weeks.
When Easter Sunday came, I again spent my morning walking the halls of our meetinghouse with my baby. As usual, I was whispering a prayer in my heart: Why should I bother to come? Why is it important for me to continue with this struggle?
As I walked past the classrooms, I began to look in the windows. Every Primary class was having a lesson about the Savior’s death and resurrection. I was amazed at the reverence and awe that I saw in the children’s faces. Every one of them, mine included, was caught up in the story of our Savior’s greatest gift to us.
Suddenly it was clear to me. This was the answer to my questions and my prayers. This was why I needed to continue in my struggle to bring my children to church each Sunday. Maybe I wasn’t getting as much as I wanted from my attendance, but my children were benefiting from their classes more than I had imagined.
Occasionally we still have a difficult time getting to church. But when we do, I stop and remember the expressions I saw on my children’s faces that Easter morning. I know that church is where we belong each Sunday, and I still often thank the Lord for showing me why.