This past Sunday, I was asked to give a talk on three topics for timing purposes. At first, it felt like a challenge, but I put something together, and I have to say — it became one of my favorite talks to deliver. I spent a week practicing and revising it, nearly memorizing every word. I’d like to share it here so we can have a manuscript that reflects my progression. I hope you enjoy it and feel the Spirit as you read. It was also the calmest I have ever felt while speaking.
Good morning, brothers and sisters.
I’m very grateful to be here today and for the opportunity to speak about how we can better anchor our lives in Jesus Christ — through obedience to His commandments and the blessings of the temple.
I’d like to start with a simple question: When you hear the word anchor, what comes to your mind?
Usually, we picture a ship at sea, lowering its anchor so it won’t drift with the waves or the current. An anchor doesn’t stop the water from moving. It doesn’t cancel storms. It simply keeps the ship in place in the middle of them.
What’s remarkable about an anchor is that it’s used before the danger feels real. A ship doesn’t wait until it’s being pushed toward the rocks—it lowers its anchor while the waters still seem calm. So when the storm comes, it already has something holding it in place.
In our own lives, drifting rarely comes from one big, rebellious choice. It usually begins in small, almost invisible ways:
- Skipped prayers.
- Rushed Sundays.
- Quiet doubts.
- Busy weeks where we forget to pause and look to Christ.
At first, none of it seems serious. But slowly, almost unnoticed, the peace we once felt begins to slip away. And before we realize it, we’ve drifted from the Savior — not because we intended to, but because we didn’t take the small, consistent steps to keep Him at the center of our lives.
That’s why the Book of Mormon teaches us so clearly where our anchor must be. In Helaman 5:12, it reads:
“And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.”
I love that it doesn’t say if storms come. It says when storms come. In mortality, storms are guaranteed. They come as winds and whirlwinds of disappointment, temptation, heartbreak, confusion, and fear. They are part of being human.
Christ never promised us a storm-free life. But He did promise us a safe foundation.
He isn’t just someone we believe in.
He is someone we build our lives upon.
He becomes the rock beneath our feet when everything else feels uncertain.
So what does it really mean to anchor our lives in Christ?
It means we choose Him before the storm comes.
We remember Him in peaceful days, not only desperate ones.
We build habits of faith when life feels calm, so that when life feels heavy, we already know where to turn.
The blessings of a life built on Christ go beyond protection. They bring peace, clarity, direction, and a quiet assurance that, no matter what happens, we are never alone.
Anchoring our lives in Christ is not just something we feel—it’s something we live.
An anchor only works if it’s actually attached. A ship can admire its anchor, even trust it—but unless it’s dropped into the water and connected to the ground below, it won’t hold the ship in place.
In the same way, believing in Christ alone isn’t enough. Our anchor holds only when we connect our lives to Him through the choices we make every day.
And that connection is obedience.
It’s when belief becomes action.
When love becomes something we practice.
When our relationship with Christ quietly shows up in our schedules, our habits, our words, and the choices we make when no one else is watching.
The Savior taught simply,
“If ye love me, keep my commandments.”
Keeping the commandments is how we stay close to the anchor instead of slowly drifting away from it.
When we obey, we aren’t earning God’s love — we already have that. Instead, we’re positioning ourselves to receive His peace, His protection, and His power.
The Lord teaches this principle in Doctrine and Covenants 130:20–21:
“There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated.”
Blessings come when our lives align with the laws God has lovingly given us.
The Lord also promises in Doctrine and Covenants 14:7:
“If you keep my commandments and endure to the end you shall have eternal life, which gift is the greatest of all the gifts of God.”
And in Doctrine and Covenants 82:10, He says:
“I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise.”
I love how that is phrased — I, the Lord, am bound.
When we keep our covenants and commandments, God commits Himself to us because He is faithful to His word.
So what does obedience really look like in everyday life?
- Keeping the Sabbath day holy when the world tells us to rush.
- Being honest when cutting corners would be easier.
- Paying tithing when trust feels stretched.
- Living the law of chastity and honoring our bodies and relationships as sacred.
- Choosing kindness, forgiveness, and humility even when emotions push us another way.
Sometimes obedience sounds serious or strict, but it can also be simple, gentle, and even playful.
I say that because a few weeks ago, my brother wanted to go out to watch football with my uncles, so he asked me to go keep my sister-in-law company so she wouldn’t “bother” him. And because I’m clearly his best sister ever, I went over.
They’ve been having lessons with the missionaries, so I decided to have a little family home evening with her and teach her the hand signs for the Ten Commandments that I learned back when I was an investigator. And of course, no lesson is complete without a treat — something I learned years ago teaching Primary — so I brought one of her favorite drinks to keep things happy and light. She knows this, that’s why I’m sharing it. 😛
We went through the commandments one by one using our fingers. It was simple and playful, but it helped make them stick. I do hope she still remembers them so Elders, we might lose our visitation right after today, but please test her when you go back to visit them.
That small moment with her taught me something. Following the Lord isn’t just about rules — it’s about helping each other remember who we belong to. Sometimes it’s one reminder, one conversation, one gentle nudge toward Christ that quietly strengthens someone’s faith.
Keeping the commandments actually increases our freedom.
That might sound strange, because the world often says rules restrict us. But the Lord’s commandments protect us from many of the sorrows we create for ourselves. They keep us from chains we don’t see until we’re already tangled in them.
Lehi’s dream teaches this beautifully. In his vision, people are trying to reach the tree of life, which represents the love of God. Some hold fast to the iron rod and arrive safely. Others let go and wander into the mist and darkness.
The iron rod is the word of God — His teachings, His covenants, and His commandments. Holding fast is choosing Him. Letting go is drifting away.
Those who keep moving forward, even when it’s hard, even when they can’t see clearly, are the ones who arrive at the fruit of peace, love, and joy.
Following Christ isn’t about perfection.
It’s about direction.
It’s about continually turning our hearts toward the Savior and trusting that His way leads to real happiness.
One of the greatest places where that commitment becomes a sacred covenant is the temple.
Every time we choose honesty, faithfulness, humility, and love, we are preparing ourselves to enter the Lord’s house and receive the blessings He wants to give us there.
Recently, I had the sacred opportunity to receive my endowment. When we receive our endowment, we make new covenants that build upon the ones we made at baptism. And though I cannot share all the details of that experience, I will share this:
As I stood in the Celestial Room and looked up at the chandelier above me, I felt what I can only describe as an overwhelming sense of joy — though the word hardly holds it. It swelled in my heart so suddenly and so deeply that I had to pause to keep from crying.
And luckily, sometimes my tears are shy enough to stay in their place when I tell them to.
I felt small, but not insignificant — small in a way that felt protected, seen, and deeply loved. It felt like the world paused for a moment so the Savior could remind me that He is near, aware, and patient with me.
What surprised me most was how beautifully the whole journey unfolded, not just that day, but in the weeks leading up to it. As I prepared for my endowment, I set a personal goal that every third Saturday of the month I would go to the temple to perform ordinances for those who have passed on. I love the early 7 a.m. sessions, so if anyone is ever interested in joining me, I would truly love your company.
The Saturday before the week of my endowment was one of those mornings.
That day, I was helped by a temple worker brother and sister. When they asked if I had already been endowed, I told them I would be the following Saturday, and they rejoiced with me. The sister shared that her husband had been the first president of the Hmong branch in the 1990s.
It was such a pleasure getting to know her, listening to her stories, and feeling her deep connection to our culture.
Through those simple conversations, I felt that morning had been prepared for me — that I was meant to be there to meet them.
Then, when the day of my endowment arrived and I approached the veil — which symbolizes Christ, because it is only through Him that we can come into the presence of our Heavenly Father — I was guided forward. And as I was received through, I realized the brother assisting me was the same temple worker I had met the Saturday before.
In that quiet, sacred moment, we recognized each other.
It felt deeply personal. It connected my experience of receiving my own endowment with the ordinances I had been performing for others. And it reminded me that the Savior often works through people. He is aware of the small details of our lives, and He places individuals in our path to gently testify that He is involved in our journey — every step of the way.
Because of that, I also want to thank the brothers and sisters of our ward who were there that day. Not only were you there to show your love, but you were also there to help those who have passed on receive their ordinances. I truly believe the people you served are grateful as well.
I hope that when you went through the veil that day, you felt — or remembered — your own endowment and its blessings, and that you know how deeply you are loved by our Heavenly Father.
When I left the temple, I realized something important: what we feel there isn’t meant to stay inside those walls. It’s meant to follow us home. As I got into my car and sat for a moment, my tears finally greeted the world — a reminder of how deeply blessed I am to belong to something eternal.
My mom used to ask me why people cry when they bear their testimonies. In that moment, I felt like I finally understood why. Sometimes, the Spirit touches us so deeply that words can’t fully contain it.
Since my family came to church and I let go of the things that no longer served a purpose in my life, I’ve joked that I forgot what it feels like to be sad and to cry, because my days have been full of sunshine even when they’re gray. But that day at the temple didn’t count — those were tears of happiness.
I hope that all who have not yet felt that joy will one day prepare themselves to receive their endowment and seek it — the kind of joy you would want to carry with you always.
The temple also teaches us how to carry Christ into our choices, our relationships, our patience, and our forgiveness. It strengthens the anchor line between us and the Savior so that when life grows noisy again, we still remember where our center comes from.
When someone hurts us, the temple reminds us to respond with mercy instead of pride. When life feels rushed, it teaches us to pause and listen instead of react. When relationships feel strained, it helps us choose understanding over defensiveness. And when we feel tired or discouraged, the temple brings us back to remembering who we are, who we belong to, and the kind of person we are becoming — someone worthy of being sealed to another for eternity and someone we would want to spend the rest of our lives with.
What settles into our hearts inside the Lord’s house becomes a guide for how we speak, how we serve, and how we love once we step back into the world.
Brothers and sisters, I testify that Jesus Christ is our true anchor. When we build our lives on Him — through obedience, repentance, covenants, and love — we don’t become storm-proof, but we become storm-anchored.
I know He lives.
I know He knows us personally.
And I know that as we choose Him daily, He will steady our hearts, guide our steps, and keep us close to what our souls are searching for.
I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen. 🌸
♥ 