The night after we buried my mother, in a hill at the foot of the Wasatch from where her second favorite temple can be seen. Her favorite was Logan, where she was sealed to my father, who would soon follow her to the grave.
The Los Angeles temple at night.
We, the children of our Heavenly Father, naturally make places where we can draw closer to Him. Almost all of us do it- in some way- all over the world. The thoughts and efforts we put into these holy places reflect our theology, values, hopes and desires.
When my wife and I talked with our missionary son recently, he said he was glad to be in Carson City, Nevada, instead of Las Vegas. When I asked why, he said: Gated Communities.
