Aloha,
Thank you so much, Isaiah and I am grateful to President Haws for the opportunity to speak at this devotional today.
We are so blessed to have special guests from across Oceania with us this week for the BYU–Hawaii Career Conference. I have had the opportunity to visit with some of you, and I sincerely thank you for taking the time to meet our students and to better understand the unique gifts, talents, and skills developed at this special institution.
These students will become meaningful contributors not only within your organizations but also within their homes, communities, and countries.
Over 30 years ago, I was one of those students sitting in the audience, listening to invited speakers, wondering what would become of me and what my future would look like.
As I stand here today, I cannot help but reflect on how deeply BYU–Hawaii has shaped my life. For me, this campus is not just a university. It is part of my story. It is part of who I became.
I was born here in Kahuku, Hawaiʻi, as what we lovingly call a “TVA baby,” while my parents were attending school. But I was raised in Tonga. I attended Tonga Side School and later graduated from one of the Church schools, Liahona High School.
Growing up, BYU–Hawaii was always spoken about in our home, almost like it was the promised land.
My parents believed deeply in this place. My mom, who is currently not here with us today, would attest that even when my father became very sick later in life, some of the last things that brought him comfort were songs that reminded him of their time here on this beautiful campus. That speaks volume and that speaks to the impact this school has had on generations of families.
So, when it became my turn to come here as a student, I thought I was ready. I was not. I was a girl from Tonga trying to figure out life in America. Everything felt different. The culture was different. The food was different. The expectations were even different.
I remember my first time walking into the old cafeteria. I’m sure some of the staff and alumni here today still remember the old café. It was much smaller back then, so you could practically see everyone who came in to eat. I had no idea what some of the food even was, and I definitely did not know how to use the drink machines.
I remember pretending I knew exactly what I was doing while secretly watching everyone else, trying to figure out how everything worked before anyone noticed I was completely lost. And who could forget those sack lunches? I remember trying to understand classroom discussions while also translating everything in my head. One moment, I was having fun; the next, I was homesick.
I especially remember the Aloha Center, which is now under construction. For students back then, the Aloha Center was everything. It was where we gathered, laughed, cried, and met lifelong friends. At times, it was also the place where we babysat newborn babies while their exhausted parents ran to class.
And the Friday night dances? I don’t know if they still do that now, but back then, those dances started at 10 pm and ended at 1 am because the PCC night show dancers had to finish work first. Only at BYU–Hawaii could that make perfect sense. I worked at the Polynesian Cultural Center, like so many students here. PCC was not just a job. It was an education. It taught me discipline and sacrifice. It taught me to work hard even when I was exhausted, and to connect with people from all over the world.
But one of the greatest blessings from that time was the friendships I made. Some of my dearest lifelong friends came from this campus. People who became family.
President Dallin H. Oaks shared, “The gospel of Jesus Christ is the plan by which we can become what children of God are supposed to become.” [1] As I look back now, I realize BYU–Hawaii was never just teaching me academically. It was helping me become.
While I was a student here, I met someone who changed my life forever. My husband, Sione. He was kind, funny, steady, full of love, and extremely good-looking. Together, we built a beautiful life and were blessed with three incredible children: Lose, Aisake, and Eveline. Shortly after my husband and I got married, we moved back to Tonga.
And something interesting happened. I began to see my own BYU–Hawaii experience differently. I started meeting young students who were preparing to leave Tonga for the very first time to attend BYU–Hawaii. And every time I talked to them, I saw myself.
I saw the fear. The uncertainty. The excitement. The homesickness they did not even know was coming yet. I remembered what it felt like to arrive here not knowing how to navigate life in a completely different culture.
So, I felt strongly that we needed to prepare students before they ever stepped on a plane. Not just academically. But emotionally, socially, and spiritually.
I remember one of the first groups I worked with in Tonga. At first, they were so shy. I could barely get anyone to talk. You would ask a question and get complete silence. I thought, “Oh no… how are these students going to survive in classroom discussions, let alone how are they going to be able to ask someone on a date when they can’t even speak?”
So, we started doing activities together. Instead of preparing individually, we started preparing as a group. I intentionally grouped students traveling during the same semester together because I hoped they would build relationships before arriving on campus.
In many ways, we were trying to create the same kind of community many of us found at the Aloha Center. We spent time together. We laughed together. We talked about fears and expectations. But more importantly, we created trust.
And slowly, things started to change. The quiet students began opening up. Friendships began forming. Confidence began growing. We were building unity because I knew there would be moments when they missed home. Moments when they questioned themselves. Moments when they felt overwhelmed. And when those moments came, they would not have to face them alone. They would turn to the group they came with from home, their family away from family. And it worked.
A few months after one of those groups arrived at BYU–Hawaii, I returned to campus to visit, and one of the first places we went was the Polynesian Cultural Center.
It was my first time back at PCC after several years, and I will never forget the overwhelming feeling of watching each of these students excel in their different roles.
Some were at the luau, bussing tables with big smiles on their faces; some were tour guides interacting with groups and guests from all over the world; and many were dancing in the villages and at the night show.
They were all incredible.
The same students who once sat quietly in Tonga, unable to introduce themselves, were now confidently performing in front of thousands of people. They were no longer hiding. They were becoming. That moment was one of the sweetest and most rewarding experiences of my life.
Education is not just about information. It is about transformation. It is about helping people discover confidence they did not know they had. It is about helping them become who Heavenly Father always knew they could become.
These students graduated from BYU–Hawaii, went on to earn their master’s degrees, and some are even working on their PhDs.
But more importantly, they are becoming “…lifelong disciples of Jesus Christ and [are] leaders in their families, communities, chosen fields, and in building the kingdom of God.” [2]
They are “…genuine gold”. [3]
Recently, I came across a talk from President Dallin H. Oaks that put words to something I had felt for many years. In his October 2000 general conference talk “The Challenge to Become”, he shared a parable about a wealthy father who wanted to give his child not only his wealth but also the wisdom, character, and capacity needed to properly receive that inheritance.
The father explained that if he gave everything too soon to a child who had not yet developed the necessary wisdom and stature, the inheritance could easily be wasted.
Then he said:
“That which I have I can easily give you, but that which I am you must obtain for yourself.
You will qualify for your inheritance by learning what I have learned and by living as I have lived… Follow my example, mastering as I have mastered, and you will become as I am, and all that I have will be yours.” [4]
President Oaks then teaches:
“The gospel challenges us to be ‘converted,’ which requires us to do and to become…
In the waters of baptism and by receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, we become the spiritual ‘sons and daughters’ of Jesus Christ, ‘new creatures’ who can ‘inherit the kingdom of God.’” [5]
Those words stayed with me. Because if I am honest, when I first came to BYU–Hawaii, I mostly wanted to know what to do. What classes do I take? What major should I choose? How do I survive? How do I fit in? How do I succeed?
But the Lord was much more interested in who I was becoming. Sometimes becoming requires discomfort. It requires loneliness, sacrifice, and sometimes becoming requires heartbreak. For many years, life felt full. Busy. Beautiful. And absolutely normal. But then in 2020, everything changed.
My Sione passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic while we were locked out of our home in Tonga. Our daughter, Lose, was serving her mission in San Jose, California, and my two younger children were adjusting to a new life in Utah. One moment, I was a wife building a future with my eternal companion. And the next moment, I was a widow trying to figure out how to breathe again. There are no words strong enough to describe that kind of loss.
In the middle of that heartbreak, I came to understand that testimony is not built only in moments of success. It is built in moments when all you can do is hold onto the Savior. And when my world fell apart, those truths became my lifeline.
There were days after Sione passed away when I honestly did not know how I would continue. I remember one particular moment very clearly. The day after Sione’s burial, I had to turn in the final paper for my master’s degree. I remember sitting there staring at my computer, wondering what I could possibly write. Nothing came. My mind was exhausted. My heart was broken.
During the month Sione was in the hospital, I struggled to attend Zoom group calls. I struggled to complete quizzes and assignments. Most days, I was surviving on three to four hours of sleep, going back and forth between home and the hospital, praying for a miracle, trying to be strong for my kids while quietly falling apart inside.
I was fasting almost every single day, barely giving myself enough time to eat a small bite before beginning another fast. And yet, somehow, with the Lord’s help, I kept moving forward one small step at a time. But the hardest moment came after the burial. The house felt quiet. The future felt uncertain. And I remember thinking, “I do not know if I can do this.”
Not long after Sione passed away, I remember receiving a phone call from Elder Gary E. Stevenson. During that conversation, he reminded me of a truth that I have carried deeply in my heart ever since — that the Lord would consecrate my afflictions for my gain.
At the time, I could not fully understand how something so painful could ever become part of God’s plan for my growth. But over time, I began to see the Lord’s hand in ways I could not recognize in the middle of my grief. Through Jesus Christ, we really can do hard things. Not because we are strong on our own. But because He strengthens us. In the midst of trials and tribulations, grief and heartache, the Lord again prevailed in His own way.
I was able to finish my paper and graduate with my Master of Business Administration. At the time, all I could see was pain and uncertainty. But the Lord could see who I was becoming. And once again, He was helping me become. This led me to opportunities that have blessed not only my life, but also my children and those I love dearly.
One of those opportunities was joining BYU–Pathway Worldwide. Today, I have the sacred opportunity to help students across the Pacific access education. And in many ways, working with these students has felt like coming full circle.
Every day, I meet students like you, who remind me of the younger version of myself sitting here at BYU–Hawaii all those years ago. Students leaving small islands for the first time. Students doubting themselves. Wondering if they belong. Students afraid of failure while trying to balance school, family, work, and church responsibilities.
And when I look at them, I want them to know something I wish I had understood more clearly when I was your age:
- You are not here by accident.
- You are sons and daughters of Heavenly Father with divine potential.
And once you truly understand who you are, everything changes. That is one of the reasons why I will always love BYU–Hawaii. This university has a unique ability to see potential in people. It creates an environment where students are reminded not only of what they can accomplish, but also of who they can become. That happened to me.
There were people here who became instruments in God’s hands for my life. I remember that during my time here, there were moments when I deeply doubted myself. I questioned whether I was capable enough. Smart enough. Good enough.
Coming from Tonga, I sometimes felt intimidated around students who seemed more confident, better prepared, and more comfortable speaking up than I was. But there were people here who saw something in me. Two of those people were the late Charlie Goo and my 13th ward bishop, Renee Yang. I still remember conversations with them where they challenged me to stop limiting myself. They pushed me to speak up. To lead. To trust that the Lord had given me talents and abilities for a reason. And looking back now, I realize how life-changing that was. Because often, one of the greatest gifts we can give another person is helping them see their divine potential. I will forever be grateful for people who saw more in me than I could see in myself. And I hope we can all become that kind of person for someone else.
To all our students here today, please do not underestimate yourselves. You belong in rooms of influence. You belong in higher education. You belong in leadership. You belong in innovation. You belong in global conversations. Sometimes we come from places where opportunities feel limited. But your geography does not define your destiny.
The Lord can do extraordinary things through ordinary people who trust Him. And often, He works through those who are willing to step forward in faith, as taught in Doctrine and Covenants 58:27, to be “anxiously engaged in a good cause.” [6]
As I look back on my own journey, I realize that many of the opportunities and experiences that shaped my life began with small acts of faith — moments when I simply chose to move forward, even when I felt uncertain.
I am standing here today as proof of that. A girl raised in Tonga who once felt overwhelmed and unsure of herself now has the sacred opportunity to help shape educational and job opportunities across the Pacific. Only God could write a story like that. And I think that leads to an important question for all of us: How do we act with purpose so that we can become who Heavenly Father wants us to become?
President Steven C. Wheelwright gave an audience here at BYU–Hawaii this inspired description of Alma’s teaching: “Alma confirms for his son that indeed the pattern the Lord follows when we exercise faith in Him and follow His counsel in small and simple things is that He blesses us with small daily miracles, and over time, with marvelous works.” [7]
I love that pattern because becoming rarely happens all at once. It happens one choice at a time. One act of faith at a time. One small step of obedience at a time. So, I believe becoming starts with small and consistent decisions. You choose to show up to class even when you feel discouraged. You choose to say yes to opportunities that stretch you. You choose good friends who help you become better. You choose to pray even when answers do not come immediately. You choose to keep covenants. You choose to serve. You choose to trust God before you can fully see where He is leading you.
Purpose is not always found in big moments. Often, purpose is built quietly through daily discipleship. Little by little, choice by choice, the Lord shapes us. And over time, we begin to notice that we are not the same person we used to be. We are becoming.
And I promise you that if you continue to have complete faith and trust in our Lord, and as President Russell M. Nelson has counseled, to let Him prevail, [8] He will lead you to places you never imagined possible.
Sometimes we think becoming happens in big spiritual moments. But often it happens quietly. It happens when:
- you keep going after disappointment,
- you choose faith over fear,
- you forgive someone,
- you show up when life is hard,
- you continue praying even when heaven feels silent, or
- you help someone else while carrying your own pain.
Those are the moments that shape us. And I testify that our Lord is deeply involved in that process. He does not just watch us become. He helps us become. He is the perfect example of who we are striving to become.
And when I think about the Savior, I am deeply moved by what He was willing to go through to fulfill the Father’s will.
In Gethsemane, the Savior suffered more than we can fully comprehend. Luke teaches: “And being in an agony He prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” [9]
And yet, in that sacred moment, the Savior said: “…nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.” [10]
The Savior showed us that becoming is not about avoiding hardship. It is about allowing hardship to refine us and draw us closer to God. To my children who are here with me today, I love you all so much.
There were moments in our lives when things felt uncertain. Moments when grief felt heavy. Moments when we had to simply keep moving forward one day at a time. But through it all, I have come to believe that the Lord places us in environments that help shape us into who He knows we can become.
For me, BYU–Hawaii was one of those places. If I could go back and talk to that young girl from Tonga, I think I would tell her:
- You are going to struggle.
- You are going to feel homesick.
- You are going to cry.
- You are going to make mistakes.
- But you are also going to grow.
- You are going to build friendships that last forever.
- You are going to find purpose.
- You are going to meet your eternal companion.
- You are going to discover strength you did not know you had.
- And one day, your pain will help bless other people.
Most importantly… God is not just leading you to success. He is leading you to become.
To the students here today:
- Do not rush your journey.
- Do not compare your timing to someone else’s.
- Do not think your current struggle means you are failing.
Sometimes the hardest seasons of life produce the strongest disciples. The Lord is shaping you for something greater than you can currently see. And one day, you may look back and realize that the very experiences you once wished were removed were actually the experiences preparing you for your mission in life.
As I reflect on my own journey, I can honestly say that some of the moments that felt the most painful, confusing, and difficult at the time became the very moments that brought me closest to the Savior and helped shape who I am today.
I know that Jesus Christ lives. I know that He is the head of this Church, and that President Dallin H. Oaks is a true and living prophet of God. I know that our Savior walks beside us through every season of life—in moments of joy, in moments of uncertainty, and even in moments of deep grief.
And because of Him, I have learned for myself that God truly can make “all things work together for good to them that love God.” [11] Because through Him, broken things can heal. Through Him, weak things can become strong. Through Him, grief can become purpose. Through Him, ordinary people can become extraordinary disciples.
I know that Heavenly Father has a divine plan for each of us. And I know that if we trust Him, He will help us become far more than we could ever become on our own.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes:
[1] Dallin H. Oaks, “The Challenge to Become,” Ensign or Liahona, November 2000, 33
[2] BYU–Hawaii Mission Statement
[3] David O. McKay, “Groundbreaking & Dedication of CCH/BYU–Hawaii” [groundbreaking at Brigham Young University–Hawaii, February 12, 1955], speeches.byuh.edu
[4] Dallin H. Oaks, “The Challenge to Become,” Ensign or Liahona, November 2000, 33
[5] Dallin H. Oaks, “The Challenge to Become,” Ensign or Liahona, November 2000, 34
[6] Doctrine and Covenants 58:27
[7] Steven C. Wheelwright, “The Power of Small and Simple Things” [Brigham Young University–Hawaii devotional, August 30, 2007], speeches.byuh.edu
[8] Russell M. Nelson, “Let God Prevail,” Liahona, November 2020
[9] Luke 22:44
[10] Luke 22:42
[11] Romans 8:28