I stopped at a nostalgic location on the way home from the temple today. Every table had a crown per pair of chairs. Since it was solo me, that meant I became the temporary monarch. My neighbors at the table across the aisle shunned their appointed adornments, but I figured that the beautiful crowns of white hair cresting their heads were regal enough. As I sat, though, I marveled at the natural aspiration to and appreciation of the worldly crown, and all things attendant to it . . . and compared that crown and its coronation to the crown and promised coronation I had just been promised (or the person I served vicariously for had just been promised) in the house of the Lord. When we go to the temple, we receive infinitely more than will ever be held by early kings and queens, provided we simply stay true to the covenants we make. Maybe my mind can’t comprehend that, but at least I know that if the joy I feel while eating a Whopper and fries can just be multiplied monthly, it’s a reward I’m signing up for. The kingdom of God or bust!