Why do I attend church when I consistently fall short?

As a humble sinner who desperately needs the Savior’s grace every single day. I will keep coming, keep trying, and keep trusting in His enabling power.

We often wrestle with the quiet, nagging question: Why do I keep attending church when I fall short so often? Why do I partake of the sacrament, speak of discipleship, and strive to live Christlike lives when my weaknesses feel so persistent and my progress feels painfully slow? At times, it can feel almost hypocritical—like I don’t belong among those pews because I haven’t yet become who I hope to be.

But if I ever allowed myself to believe the lie that my sins disqualify me from entering the Lord’s house, I would miss out on some of the most sacred moments of grace, healing, and renewal available to me in this life.

I would miss the quiet reassurance that the Church was never meant to be a gathering place for the flawless, but a refuge for those humbly engaged in the lifelong process of sanctification. The Church is not a showroom for perfected saints—it is a spiritual hospital, designed by a loving Savior for wounded souls who need care, direction, and divine healing.

It is where people like me—imperfect, struggling, and sometimes weary—come to be reminded that healing is possible through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It is where broken hearts are gently mended, where hope is restored, and where the Savior meets us exactly where we are, not where we think we should already be.

Each week, we are reminded again and again of His infinite Atonement—of His endless patience, His boundless mercy, and His unwavering invitation to “come unto Christ,” even when we stumble repeatedly along the way. Especially when we stumble.

Every Sunday, as I sit quietly in the pews, I feel a gentle whisper to my soul: “I did not call you to be perfect overnight. I called you to follow Me—one step, one choice, one day at a time.” That reminder alone is enough to keep me coming back.

I don’t attend church because I am without sin. I attend because I know I cannot progress without Him.

He does not merely tolerate our presence despite our flaws—He invites us because of them, knowing that only through Him can we be healed

The sacrament table stands as a sacred reminder that renewal is always possible. Through His Atonement, hearts can change, burdens can be lifted, and lives can be transformed through what the scriptures call a “mighty change of heart.” The hymns remind me that I am not alone in my struggles. The testimonies remind me that faith is not a finish line—it is a journey, filled with growth, setbacks, and grace. Each ordinance, each covenant, gently draws me closer to the Savior I am striving to follow.

I go to church to lay down my burdens, to breathe spiritually, and to be reminded of my divine worth and eternal potential. I go to be taught by inspired leaders, to repent, to recommit, and to renew the covenants that anchor my soul to Christ.

Isn’t that what the Savior truly asks of us? Not flawless performance, but sincere effort. Not perfection, but humility. Not outward appearances, but a broken heart and a contrite spirit.

To anyone who feels unworthy to enter the Lord’s house, remember the Savior’s own words:

“They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.”

He does not merely tolerate our presence despite our flaws—He invites us because of them, knowing that only through Him can we be healed.

So I will continue to attend church—not as a hypocrite pretending to have it all together, but as a humble sinner who desperately needs the Savior’s grace every single day. I will keep coming, keep trying, and keep trusting in His enabling power.

Because no matter how often I fall short, I know this truth with certainty: He is always there, arms extended, ready to lift me again.

And that—above all else—is why I go to church.