Talk given in the Steele Creek Ward in June 2026
I’ve been asked to speak about how my covenants give me strength. Almost exactly ten years ago, I gave a similar talk under very different circumstances. Just six weeks earlier, I had lost my mom, whom I had helped care for, to a rare type of dementia. Just a few days before that talk, our family had welcomed Elysee and Simone into our family, after a 3-year bureaucratic roller coaster of adopting from the DR Congo. That Sunday was our first time at church as a family of 8. And I spoke about how my covenants – my promises to God, and his promises to me - had helped me through the tumultuous years we had just faced.
In the past ten years, as I’ve tried to honor my commitments to God and my family – commitments that I knew were good and righteous - I often thought about the quote from President Eyring, “If you are on the right path, it will always be uphill.”
Sometimes I hated that quote. I knew God was trying to bring me to a higher and holier place. It was reassuring to me to know that just because life felt hard, that didn’t mean I had chosen the wrong path. But sometimes I was tired. Emotionally, spiritually, and physically. The idea of constant stretching and straining for the rest of my life made me want to plop down in the path and throw, what we call in our family, "a big fat baby fit."
Here’s the thing, though - I have found his words to be true. Chad and I have often gotten to the top of one hill, arriving sweaty and dirty, maybe having bickered along the way, and have turned the corner, hoping we see a peaceful vista signaling that we have arrived, only to be met by an even rockier hill – one that we had no idea even existed.
This is a really encouraging talk so far, right? It really makes you want to hike on the covenant path.
But I can testify to what President Nelson said:
“Entering into a covenant relationship with God binds us to Him in a way that makes everything about life easier.”
How can both things be true? How can the covenant path be both easier and always uphill? As I’ve tried to gather my thoughts about how my covenants give me strength, I’ve come up with two words that help me describe my experiences: trajectory and identity.
First, I will talk about trajectory. The promises I have made with God have kept me going in one direction, even when I have been somewhat weak. For example, when my mom passed away, I was surprised by some of the feelings that arose. One was a niggling fear. Now that I was faced with the reality of her absence, could I believe that her spirit still existed and that I would be reunited with her, her whole self, one day? Pondering this question didn’t bring me peace or comfort. I felt numb, or angry, or a little bit like a hypocrite in church settings. But I had already promised God that I would obey Him. So, I kept praying. I kept going to church. I kept taking care of my children. I chose to believe, even when I didn’t feel it. Six months later, while serving in the temple, I received a very clear reassurance that my mom still existed, and that if the veil of forgetfulness were to be drawn away, I would see how close she was in that moment. I can tell this story now, with this clear lesson – I kept my covenants for six months, then I was blessed to know that staying the course was the right choice. But most of the time, it isn’t this clear. It’s usually only by zooming very far out that I can see how much my covenants shape my trajectory.
A broader example is my marriage of 25 years -it is what it is because of the covenants we made, as pretty immature young adults, with God, and our collective and consistent recommitment to those covenants.
Another covenant I have made to consecrate my time and energy to God’s church means I have accepted a wide variety of volunteer assignments. Those assignments have led me to do everything from using a scarf dance to teach a song about Jesus to kids, to helping people with food insecurity get formula for their babies, to organizing both funeral luncheons and camps for teenage girls. Those little pockets of obedience and sacrifice have shaped who I am, helped me build meaningful relationships, and have moved me forward, even during times that I have felt sluggish or stalled.
Now I will try to explain what I mean by identity. As I have moved forward, I have developed an identity that has helped me navigate life. When I gave my talk ten years ago, I was a brunette, relatively thin mom of six adorable kids who came with me to church every week. I didn’t realize at that time how much of my feelings of worth, motivation, and accomplishment were attached to that particular identity, but that is no longer who I am. I have discovered that one reason life on the covenant path feels uphill is because of the shifts in my identity as God refines me. Sometimes those shifts come because life strips aspects of my identity away from me, and that is a certain kind of pain. But sometimes they come because I am sincerely trying to honor my covenants. This is partly what I meant earlier about how Chad and I will turn one corner to find another hill – when we face new challenges, we find new weaknesses. For one simple example, I worked really hard for literal years to be a patient and compassionate mom, and was proud of the hard work it had required of me to become that person. But then I had five teenagers at one time, and that identity became much shakier. I learned there was a whole other layer of ruggedness in my heart that I needed God to help me chip away.
For another example, I had been ashamed for a long time that I was a college dropout. It made me feel unreliable and uneducated, and I also didn’t like "just" being a stay-at-home mom. I wanted a label that said more about my individual abilities and intelligence. I felt inspired to go back to school, and over the course of eight years, I earned my college degree. I assumed that as I did so, I would be led to a path that would give me more of an identity. I actively sought God’s direction in figuring out what that path might be. So far, when I have asked Him about paths or careers, I have only received some “no’s” and “not right now's”. I don’t know how this story ends yet, but I do know that I haven’t had the comfort of relying on an obvious label to tell the world and myself who I am. I don’t really like that, but it has forced me to keep relying on what I know to be true about who I am to navigate my midlife and plans for the future.
Not all aspects of our identity are created equally. Sometimes our identity becomes a weight that holds us down because we are afraid of how we will be seen when we give it up. Sometimes our identity makes us feel like we are better than others and creates division and derision with our fellow beings instead of unity. Sometimes our identities make us feel weak and powerless, and we stop expecting ourselves to try to treat others as we know we should.
Because of my covenantal relationship with Christ, I have very real and concrete ways to develop an identity that will be eternally beneficial to my well-being. I think this is partly what it means to “lay aside the things of this world and seek for the things of a better.” When I consistently cling to Christ through my covenants, He helps me discard the temporary, harmful, prideful, or paralyzing parts of my identity that are keeping me tied to the worldly way of seeing and doing things instead of His higher and holier ways. And each time I turn towards Him, trust in His commandments, accept His guidance, and ask Him to help me change, I bind myself to Him even tighter. His goodness, like a fetter, lifts me in my uphill climb to heights of wisdom, righteousness, perspective, and peace that I could never attain by myself. My identity as a woman who is bound tightly to Christ becomes the identity I rely on, rather than the fickle figments of identity I create for myself.
In 2023, Elder Renlund said, “As you walk the covenant path, I promise you power to go against the natural worldly flow – power to learn, power to repent and be sanctified, and power to find hope, comfort, and even joy as you face life’s challenges.” I testify that this promise is true. I have experienced that power. My covenants with Christ have meant everything to me. This is why I can say, “I believe in Christ, He is my King.” I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
