tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61986225833696611572024-03-04T22:34:41.096-08:0014 "CERTAIN" Sisters"Certain Women" by Linda K. Burton.
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-88435512329394924072019-03-24T18:31:00.000-07:002019-03-24T18:31:24.521-07:00Couple Reunion Missouri 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Some pictures from the couple retreat Febuary 2019</div>
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<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-67782299663388395532019-03-24T18:28:00.003-07:002019-03-24T18:28:33.633-07:00Parables
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I have loved the Come Follow Me Manual that we have been given to study this year with our families!! </span><a href="https://www.lds.org/study/manual/come-follow-me-for-individuals-and-families-new-testament-2019/title?lang=eng" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span class="s3">https://www.lds.org/study/manual/come-follow-me-for-individuals-and-families-new-testament-2019/title?lang=eng</span></a></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">This past week we’ve been studied the parables that Christ taught is Matthew 13, and Luke chapters 8 and 13. I’ve been pondering why did Christ teach in parables? Then I thought, do I not learn better when I have an object lesson to see and visualize what is being taught? Yes, I believe we all learn, or it sticks with us longer if we can visualize.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Matthew 13:18 is the parable of the sower. As Christ speaks to me is his word falling upon a stony “heart”, is it falling among “thorns”, or is it falling in good ground where it can be cultivated and grow? I’ll admit that I’m not always ready to listen to His word and therefore it’s falling among thorns or stones where it’s not going to grow. This morning His word came to me in a parable, I was ready to listen, and I wanted to share this parable with you.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">It is the parable of the clogged drain. Our tubs in our home allow the very smallest of particles to pass down the drain. Although hair is small and if a little hair goes down the drain, no big deal. I was noticing that the boys shower was not draining like it should, I have a special tool that I’m able to use to remove excessive hair out of the drains. I took my special tool to the boy’s bathroom and began removing my first clog, it seemed like such a little amount of hair, but as I used my tool again much more hair came from the drain. After cleaning this drain, the water ran down it with no problem. I compared this to me and the Holy Ghost. When I am trying to do what’s right, I truly can feel of God’s spirit running through me, helping me! I quickly go to my knees in prayer for guidance, I find myself in His scriptures listening to His word, listening to the words of our Prophets and leaders. Then a little sin crepes in, maybe too much social media, maybe forgetting a morning prayer, maybe serving with the wrong attitude, and so on! Then suddenly, I find that I can’t hear his voice, I am “clogged” with disappointment, clogged with laziness, clogged with little sins. How grateful I am for the tool of the Atonement,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I can apply daily, I can be cleaned and have the spirit again flowing within me freely.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">The pipes will need to be continually cleaned of the hair and debris that clogs it, the same is true with all of us, we will need to continually apply the Atonement daily in our life in order to stay close to our Heavenly Father.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I am deeply grateful for Come Follow Me and the lessons that I am learning. I’m thankful for the opportunity of growing closer to my Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ. I am grateful for the Holy Ghost that if I’m willing to listen will guide me every day – we are promised that if we always remember him and Keep his commandments, he promises to ALWAYS have His spirit to be with us! What a beautiful promise.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">-Shannon Morley</span></div>
<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-63058451106341858962019-03-08T08:41:00.002-08:002019-03-08T08:41:29.412-08:00The Power of Being There (Teaching Moments)
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">You never know when it’s going to happen. What is that saying....if the teacher is ready the student will come...or something like that. All I know is that it happens sometimes when you least expect it. It has really taught me the lesson lately that there is no substitute for being there.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">You can prepare a lesson to give in church or to give at family night, and sometimes (let’s be honest, most of the time!) your kids could care less about what you want to teach. They have their own agenda and usually that is just to get the lesson over with as soon as humanly possible. I remember having those feelings from when I was a kid. Poor parents. What goes around comes around.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">But once in a while, when you aren’t even preparing a beautiful sermon in your head of what to say, your child is asking a question and that moment happens. A teaching moment. A moment when your truly connect and both of you are edified.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">It’s amazing when you can tell that your child sincerely wants to know something and you can express what you want them to hear and they really LISTEN to what you are saying to them. Not the kind of listening when you know they heard what you said but they really didn’t hear (“uh-huh, got it mom, now stop talking, mom”) what you said. This is a moment when you know that what you said and what they heard will definitely impact them and they may even remember it for the rest of their lives.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Just in the last two days, it’s happened twice. That’s like lightening striking twice! It just doesn’t happen like that....ever!</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">In the car with one son and we’re waiting for his basketball practice to start but the coach is late so we are just sitting in the car. It starts with small talk and then, BOOM, the teaching moment appears and we have a heart-felt discussion about life as a junior high student and some of the struggles he’s facing. I was able to express that I knew what he was going through and that I remembered and understood. We came to some resolutions about some things we can do to make life better and I’m so thankful that the coach was 20 minutes late. That conversation lead to further conversations, and confessions, and now we really feel like we’re making some progress.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">My life has changed recently and I have been in school this last year so I’m not home every day if my kids were to come home for lunch. Sometimes I regret that I’m not home as much but even on the days I have been home, they haven’t come home to eat so today when my high school-aged son came home, I was surprised. I immediately stopped cleaning the bathroom and went to the kitchen to make him something to eat. We started talking while he was eating and BOOM, it happened again. A wonderful teaching opportunity occurred where I was able to talk with him heart-to-heart and bear my testimony about repentance and forgiveness and the gratitude I feel for the Savior and His atonement in my life. What if I would have missed that? It was so sweet. I love being able to communicate one-on-one and when there’s true understanding, it creates a bond like no other.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I know we can’t be everywhere that our kids are, and they would hate it if we were. But we can be there for the small day to day things and then pray that those teaching moments will happen. We can do our best to be prepared spiritually for when those moments come and pray like crazy that Heavenly Father will help us to know what to say to our child when they are “really listening.” When these moments do come, it’s a blessing and can be life-changing for both parties.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: x-small;">-Cathy Bennett</span></span></div>
<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-8031970273125842172018-10-03T15:10:00.001-07:002018-10-03T15:10:25.221-07:00Fall-Time Favorites
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Fall is my favorite time of year! The colorful hues on the trees and vegetation that illuminate in the sunshine, the smells of pumpkin bread baking and spiced cider with cinnamon, the brisk leafy-smell morning air, and a hint of a newly-lit fireplace in the night air, all conjure up fond Fall feelings. My earliest Fall memory that has endeared this season to me occurred when I was in Kindergarten. My family lived in a three-story house built by my dad and older brothers in the Salem, Utah mountains in the 1970’s. I had just exited the school bus, a short walk down the hill to my house. I remember the crunch of the leaves under my feet and the anticipation of getting home to my mom and the little ones too small to go to school.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">As I opened the front door on that Fall day, the smell of pumpkin cookies baking, the sight of the familiar ceramic pumpkin and other fall décor and the melodic sound of my mom’s voice and embrace greeting me after another day at Kindergarten all enveloped me. In that moment, I remember thinking “<i>This</i> is home!” It was the most comforting, safe, pleasant place I had known. Everything about it defined what I considered to be a happy home. Through the nearly five decades since then, I have tried to recreate that feeling for my children.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">One Fall day I received a phone call from my oldest son, who was grown and gone from home. He said, “Mom, I’ll bet you are baking pumpkin bread, and let me guess . . . you have the leaves and orange lights on the mantle and the glass pumpkin on the table”. I confirmed that those same traditions continued, even without him. He then sighed and with a sincere, reflective voice said, “Ahhh, mom I love Fall!”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">By Chrisy Cope</span></div>
<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-82404170720975335362018-06-14T17:34:00.002-07:002018-06-14T17:34:38.369-07:00Coincidences or Tender Mercies
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I have seen so many amazing tender mercies and miracles in my life. Some people would call them “ coincidences” but I’ve heard that coincidences are just miracles where God prefers to remain anonymous. I sometimes imagine Heavenly Father waiting in anticipation for us to ask for something so that He can bless us with it and make us happy. I know as a parent myself, I love to do things for my children. Especially if it’s something I know they really want. And because God is all-knowing, He probably loves to orchestrate His miracles to bless as many of His children as possible and to do things when people don’t think it can or will happen.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I love it when something happens that I’ve been praying for and it’s like a little secret between Heavenly Father and myself. Only He knew that I was praying for that certain thing and just because He’s so kind and good, He gives it to me to bless me and make me happy.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">They are usually just small things that wouldn’t be important to anyone else, usually involving the success of my children and husband. For instance, the other day I was watching my Freshman son, Morley, play in the state baseball finals. He made the varsity team this year but has only ever been a pinch runner. (That means that when someone gets on base, they put Morley in to make it around the bases a lot faster. He is speedy so that makes sense.) Anyway, the baseball player that Morley usually runs for had gotten up to bat two times and both times had gotten out so it was his last time at bats. I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to please let him get on base because I wanted to watch Morley run the bases in a state varsity game. I hadn’t seen him run in a varsity game all year. Sure enough, that young man had a great hit up the middle of the field and they called Morley out on the bases to run for him. Morley was able to run all the way around, even having a dramatic slide at 3rd, to score for the team which really helped them a lot. Although the team did end up losing by one point, I was content having watched my sweet son play his part for the team. It was silly maybe, maybe it was just a coincidence, but to me it was a tender mercy and manifestation that God hears and answers my prayers.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Another example of a wonderful tender mercy happened when my daughter, Sadie, didn’t get asked to prom. It’s her senior year so her last chance to go to a high school dance and we all knew of her desire to go. I think everyone in the family was praying that she’d get asked. The night before the dance, when we’d all pretty much given up hope, a young man showed up with roses and asked her to go. The Lord seems to always wait until the last minute so that we all realize what a miracle it is. It truly was such a sweet tender mercy for our beautiful daughter. She was able to buy a pretty dress, get all dolled up and not miss out on that memory, which is all she really wanted.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">We have had so many tender mercies when it comes to our family business. The Lord has guided and directed us in remarkable ways! From prompting us to find a new office and then guiding us to the exact location to introducing us to people that we needed to meet in a very round-about way to my Sweetheart, Mike, being prepared and lead to be in the position he is today. All these tender mercies are truly amazing to both of us! I could go on and on about this subject because there have been so many fantastic “coincidences” but we both know inside, that it’s all the Lord’s doing and we are just being blessed with His goodness. Our desires are to serve in the kingdom of God on earth and the Lord is helping us to be able to do that. He knows our hearts and hears our prayers.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">These amazing tender mercies don’t just happen to me and my family of course, they are all around me! I see them in my family, both immediate and extended, in our ward members, friends and everywhere in the world. I am baffled at the goodness and love that our Heavenly Father is always showering down upon His children. The crazy thing is, the more we recognize and acknowledge His hand in our lives, the more He seems to do for us. Or maybe it’s just that we watch for it and are aware of it more when we are mindful of the blessings. All I know is that I am overwhelmed with gratitude and love. I thank my Father-in-Heaven daily for being an active part of my life. I could do nothing without Him, but with Him, I can do all things. I love to sit back and watch as the tender mercies flow, just because He can. There are NO coincidences, Heavenly Father is in charge and He gives us everything.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span>Cathy Bennett</span></div>
<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-37812084548510471132018-05-07T16:45:00.001-07:002018-05-07T16:45:15.210-07:00Morley Couple Retreat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
A beautiful hike we took our first full day. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(credit for good hike goes to Cathy:)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbcMoQDBzG-gSIa352n_PEqbwDDUc1jQJtqvpNlleU4yUJFvEH_GCZIQVEXkftBPmniHmQDDFGHDZ62vLRPWmXgnoV8iAGSlqC_8o1A-PagyhY2trv9GxfKhD-7j7fn2ryLVc79uJVtQ/s1600/IMG_9928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1544" data-original-width="1158" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbcMoQDBzG-gSIa352n_PEqbwDDUc1jQJtqvpNlleU4yUJFvEH_GCZIQVEXkftBPmniHmQDDFGHDZ62vLRPWmXgnoV8iAGSlqC_8o1A-PagyhY2trv9GxfKhD-7j7fn2ryLVc79uJVtQ/s400/IMG_9928.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We went to Tucson, AZ for our family's couple retreat. Most of you might ask, "What's in Tucson, AZ?" SUN! The sun is there and it wasn't in Utah or Oregon or Washington (where we all live). It was such an enjoyable, relaxing trip. We ate, slept in, and went on hikes, all to come back and eat some more. The only thing that would have made it better was if all the family could have been there! unfortunately, four couples had to miss due to other obligations. We are lucky enough in our big family that even with four couples missing we still had 9 couples and my darling sister Geri in attendance. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgh1dPrDJXb-sNVXYO0H9dyB_NdxaZu9J-01CtbmPoFo0XMkfoAChKLUlxuIj1eJZYpkRz28Uer_oHUigZ1_ej5eDMQCpYEjjp-x43yguHwjqoMAgMJuSkkxAu7pK-Y-ymnDlGTH3aFGA/s1600/IMG_9963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgh1dPrDJXb-sNVXYO0H9dyB_NdxaZu9J-01CtbmPoFo0XMkfoAChKLUlxuIj1eJZYpkRz28Uer_oHUigZ1_ej5eDMQCpYEjjp-x43yguHwjqoMAgMJuSkkxAu7pK-Y-ymnDlGTH3aFGA/s400/IMG_9963.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The resort we stayed was nice and clean. One of the restaurants at the resort allowed us to sit on the patio by the pool and they served us out there. It was so nice and comfortable, with the added bonus we could be as loud as we wanted. That's a huge bonus if you know my family</span> (some of us are louder than others:) <span style="font-size: large;">They were good enough to let us use a conference room for our family meeting too.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpIwAlZ0AS4GQ26mtIbyq9-KvhAK47WiBQrXZPOXwl6rppQF_a9WyKfb0HAn8OS5EQDt3MsBQqic20KQUWsQR8XFU7PXB8d59qsl45gjw8pihuxblZpTRAU87FQA55y9hIbe6QdRtcW4/s1600/IMG_9964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpIwAlZ0AS4GQ26mtIbyq9-KvhAK47WiBQrXZPOXwl6rppQF_a9WyKfb0HAn8OS5EQDt3MsBQqic20KQUWsQR8XFU7PXB8d59qsl45gjw8pihuxblZpTRAU87FQA55y9hIbe6QdRtcW4/s400/IMG_9964.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> Mom, Dad and Geri Lynn, or Mom and her subjects.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Second hike was more of a walk, but we saw some cool Indian drawings. Here are the guys looking pretty cool themselves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Saturday some couples had to get to the airport while others were able to enjoy the beauty of the Tucson temple. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While parents were at the temple in AZ, Cope kids were at the temple in their neck of the woods.</span>Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-19800224520576341932018-02-19T09:12:00.000-08:002018-02-19T09:12:09.113-08:00Kindness is Never Wasted
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">“I’m from Price, Utah!” I heard a voice holler out from upstairs at our LDS Bookstore after I posed the sarcastic question, “Who in Washington would ever be from the little town of Price?” I had been in conversation with an employee about my dad and mom growing up in Price and the unlikely recent acquaintance of a former Price native. Now, surprised to hear a response to my hypothetical question, I went to the sound of the responder to find an older gentleman, Brent Olson, proudly wearing a US Army Veteran hat. He explained that he grew up in Price, Utah and graduated from Carbon High School before leaving that area for a career in the Army.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">“You may know my father,” I questioned, “Jeddy Morley?” The man fell quiet, as it was obvious he reverted back over 60 years ago to memories of high school. He remained quiet as he mustered control of his emotions that seemed to attack him like an unforeseen soldier. The quivering chinned-man proceeded to explain that in high school he was unable to play sports because of rheumatic fever, which made him less-than-popular. In fact, he described himself as a “nobody”— overlooked by everyone. But, there was one quiet, popular, well-liked athlete a year older than him that always made eye contact with this “nobody” that offered a smile and a genuine “Hi”.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Brent said, “I know your dad, and I will never forget him for making me feel like I was somebody.” Then, succumbing to his emotion, he said, “I love that guy!”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I wiped tears from my eyes that were there because I felt sorry for the neglected teenager Brent once-was, but even more, I felt proud to be the daughter of such a kind-hearted teenager-now-father who noticed the lonely and insecure, and made a life-long difference.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I have thought about my dad as a teenager, knowing he was innately shy, undoubtedly insecure, with a home life that was less-than-ideal, and yet, he looked out for the “one” and made him feel special.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Kindness received is never forgotten. An act of kindness is never wasted. Its impact spans the decades and reaches into the eternities.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">By Chrisy Cope</span></span></div>
<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-80335058495714103092018-01-27T17:30:00.002-08:002018-01-27T17:30:21.580-08:00Sometimes You Just Need to Laugh<div class="p1">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-size: large;">My husband has a stressful job and he came home one night with visible stress weighing him down. I suggested we go on a date. It was a school night so it would have to be a quick date somewhere local. Local, for us is a challenge. We live in a farming town with only a gas station close by. We have to travel 15-30 minutes to go anywhere, luckily for us, a great diner opened up about 7 miles from us in the middle of about nowhere.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I served our kids the dinner I had made and Brett and I headed for the restaurant. It seemed darker than usual with just one side of dining area lit. We walked in and headed to a table. A few tables were occupied and the owners sat at one. They looked at us and asked a question, something with the word “party”. Not knowing exactly what they said because I didn’t actually hear them, but assuming she was asking if we were having a party or coming to join the party, some little funny comment about the two of us out on a school night, I nodded, gave a little laugh, and set down.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">It wasn’t long until the waitress came over and gave us waters, which I promptly knocked over spilling all over the table and floor. The waitress was good about it, teasing I shouldn’t have anything stronger to drink and cleaned it up. She came back minutes later and took our order. It was while we were waiting for our food that we noticed the room filling up. We also noticed everyone looking at us. Just after our food came is when we realized that everyone else knew each other. They were talking loudly between tables, getting up to hug one another, and asking what to order.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">If you know me, then you probably can imagine I wasn’t shy when a lady asked what I ordered and if it was good. I launched into a description that I thought she would appreciate only to stop talking when I noticed her attention was now looking at another table.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Brett chuckled and said, “I think this is a private party. Everyone is looking at us weird and wondering who we are.” I looked around and sure enough they did seem to be looking with confused faces.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">It was just seconds after that a lady came to the table to hand us raffle tickets. Brett then explained we weren’t suppose to be there and we would package our food and leave. The lady was super nice and told us it was a party for her husband who was ranked #2 in the national rodeo and they were headed out the following day. We talked for a bit wishing him luck and telling them how awesome that was. We then found the waitress and asked for boxes and our bill.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">After noticing they needed our table sooner rather than later, we stood up and made our way to the cashier where our waitress was. She thought we were there with the party and was in no hurry to bring our boxes and check and laughed when she realized we were actually serious about leaving. When she walked off to grab our boxes, I had a good look around. I inwardly laughed when I noticed a big poster board saying, “Good Luck Cody!” and a three tier cake in the middle of the bar with the same words. As we walked out I handed his wife $5 dollars and said, “Good Luck to Cody!” She laughed and thanked us.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Once we were back in our car we noticed the sign out by the road said CLOSED and laughed all the way home. Apparently they are not open Monday or Tuesday but those days can be rented for private parties, as we learned for ourselves.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">We could have felt guilty or humiliated for crashing their party, but instead we laughed. With some things I do, we find ourselves laughing frequently, and it always helps lift spirits. We went out to relieve stress that night and it worked like a charm!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-</span><span style="font-size: small;">Mary Ethington</span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-42438043399843957632018-01-20T07:50:00.002-08:002018-01-20T07:50:15.873-08:00A Father's Whistle<div class="p1">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-size: large;">During the Christmas break, we scheduled a trip to Bear Lake with the family. We spent 4 days there playing in snow, swimming in the heated pool and simply enjoying family time. On New Year’s day we rented snowmobiles and a side by side and headed up Ogden Canyon for some trail riding. We arrived and quickly unloaded the machines and everybody took off! Monson was on a snowmobile, Dave on another one and 4 of us were loaded up in the side by side. About an hour into our day, Merrell came and asked if anybody had seen Monson.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">We organized what search parties we could with our limited play toys and went looking for Monson. Another hour went by and still no Monson, no machine. Austin and Merrell took off again looking up and down the mountain sides, searching, Chelsea and I were at the car where we started asking others strangers to help, Dave and the rest of the crew went in the side by side looking. Dave came back and looked worried. He said “Let’s get in the car and go down the road and see if we can see him.”</span><span class="s1"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">As I went to hope in the car, I looked over at Dave to see him saying a silent prayer. I know many silent prayers had already been offered. Dave and I got in the car and began driving down the canyon, as we were looking, we could see in the distance a young man wearing what looked like a carhartt jacket, and jeans. Dave pulled off the side of the road and got out and “whistled”. The kids know dads whistle. The figure we saw stopped and turned and looked around when he heard the whistle. We were too far away for him to spot us, but we could see him looking around. My heart was comforted, I knew it was Monson. We went back to the parking lot where more strangers offered their help. Dave started hiking towards Monson and I guided the strangers to the two figures walking along the mountainside.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">As I have thought about this experience and the significance of hearing “a father’s call”, I have thought how often does our Heavenly Father see us wandering, lost, needing help; does He not “whistle” for us? How familiar is His whistle or call for you? Do we hear Him? He continues to call for us Mathew 11:28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. There are so many invitations from the Savior; In Moroni Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him,... again I would exhort you that ye would come unto Christ, and lay hold upon every good gift,.. He does watch over us, He loves us! It’s up to us to Trust in Him and heed his call! I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who does watch over each and every one of us, He calls for us, warns us, guides us and Loves us!!</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">-Shannon Morley</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-7052538600922963082017-12-27T16:09:00.000-08:002017-12-27T16:09:39.561-08:00Better-Not Easier<div class="p1">
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">December 2017</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">As I think back over this last year of 2017 I have varied memories and emotions. I hear myself telling others that I am hoping for an easier 2018. Then I review my experiences…</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">There have been quite a wide range of events and happenings that have had an impact on me this past year; quite few of them very difficult. In February I received a phone call saying that my expectant daughter was headed to the hospital at 29 weeks and was then put on bedrest in the hospital to try to keep her unborn son. That meant figuring out what to do with their cute little 2 year old Jane while mom “lives at the hospital.” That was challenging at best, but they got through it.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Then we had the continuing health challenges of my dad. It became difficult for him to get around and he kept falling and needed assistance to get up. I tried to help out as much as I could which took a lot of time and energy. He just got so tired of the fight and finally returned home to his Heavenly Father in April. That was a very heart wrenching phone call. After the dust settled we were left with a lot of things to piece together and to help mom cope with her new normal.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Only 2 days after dad’s funeral mom was diagnosed with bladder cancer. That took on a whole new dimension of care giving and helping her with as much as I could.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">We have been touched by extended family challenges, rehab treatment centers, crises’ of faith, on-going health issues, financial concerns and an overall worry for the well-being of all those we love so dearly.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Then in November we visited the Cedar City Temple open house with our family. What a joy to be in that beautiful, holy place with the people that mean the most to me. However, on our way home we were in a car accident that sent grandma to the hospital and left me with a lingering concussion that seemed to hang on way too long. Our new car was totaled and I was forced to scale back our holiday festivities.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">One would look at these events and truly wish for an easier new year. But then I realized that all those events were what had left me with many qualities that I could have obtained in no other way.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I look back now with greater appreciation for life and good health. I am blessed with a deeper sense of compassion for so many in difficult circumstances. I see my faith strengthened through trials and deeply rooted in our Savior Jesus Christ. I have come to appreciated the blessings of the temple as I never had before. I see people through the eyes of our Savior and am more willing to accept, love and serve God’s children. I see God’s hand in the details of my life every day. I have come to realize how truly blessed I have been in 2017. I see now that easier is not better. It is by passing through hard things that we become polished and refined. As we place our trust and faith in the Lord He will lead us along and help us become all that He knows we can be. All that He needs us to be.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">May we all be grateful for the good, hard things we experience in life and may we all become a little better, a little wiser, and be filled with peace throughout this coming year.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">-Debbie</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-41694337732111385102017-11-30T08:06:00.004-08:002017-11-30T08:06:54.056-08:00Pencil In God's Hand<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Mother Teresa is credited with saying that she was a pencil in God’s hand. That He did the writing and the thinking, and she had only to allow herself to be used. That got me to thinking about the different kinds of pencils and their advantages and disadvantages, and then on to which kind of pencil I was.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Pencil’s haven’t changed much since their invention. Not really. I mean, a standard pencil is about the same as it has always been. Of course, there are better quality pencils and poorer quality pencils; some lead erases better than others, some sharpen easier. But, there are no fancy moving parts or gadgets on it to make it work better or differently. It has lead. It has an eraser. You pick it up and it writes. It’s a pencil, right?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Then there are the mechanical pencils. These are varied and mostly they work just fine as long as they continue to have lead placed in them. The lead breaks easily. They can be quite expensive, depending on how fancy you get. Sometimes the lead needs to be prodded a bit to get it out, clicking and clicking away on the button to get enough of it out to write with. The erasers are often changeable, or get lost. So, while they’re still pencils, and they work like a pencil, they’re a bit fussier.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">There are art pencils, colored pencils, and square carpenter pencils. Some pencils with sparkles on them or that change color with the heat of your hand. I once saw a pencil that was three feet long and bigger around than my thumb with an eraser the size of a jumbo marshmallow. They come in all colors, sizes, and shapes, but they’re all still pencils created for the sole purpose of being picked up and making marks on paper.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Going back to Mother Teresa and the question fo which kind of pencil I am. I’d like to believe that in the Lord’s hand I’m perpetually sharp with an unchewed eraser. That I am constantly and consistently ready and eager to let Him use me in whatever way He needs. It’d be nice if I I came in a cool color, too. But in all honesty, I feel like He usually has to click my button a few times in order for my lead to show up at all, and then sometimes, my lead just breaks and He’s either got to tap on me a few more times or move on to another, more prepared pencil.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I heard a story once of a woman who was washing dishes when she felt the Lord tap her on the shoulder (so to speak) and tell her to visit a woman down the road. She responded to that tap so quickly that when the other woman answered the knock on her door, the first woman still had soap suds on her hands.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I imagine that woman was the kind of pencil that Mother Teresa was — The kind that every faithful woman wants to be, but that leads me to ask you the same question: what kind of pencil are you?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">by Mandi</span></span></div>
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</style>Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-5885890691711929332017-10-25T18:02:00.000-07:002017-10-25T18:02:16.158-07:00Larry<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Lately I've been frustrated with myself. I keep doing the same things over and over and I know I shouldn't. I talk too much, for instance. Talking can be a good thing, but not when I say things I shouldn't or when I interrupt or cut people off. I could list several other bad habits but I think everyone does things that they wish they didn't. We all have undesirable characteristics and actions that have become a part of who we are.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">This brings me to a lesson I've learned from Larry. We have this bird that we've affectionately named, Larry, that comes back every year to our house and runs into the same window repeatedly. Year after year, the same bird on the same window. Of course it could be a different bird, as all Robins pretty much look identical but we figure it must be the same bird because no other bird would be so dumb as to keep running into the same window. Every day. It used to be that Larry would come about the same time every afternoon. It was almost like clockwork. But now, he comes many times during the day and this year, he's started going to another window and doing the same head-bonking routine as he does on his "normal" window. We have recorded Larry running into the window multiple times because it's such an anomaly and he's even been in a few snap stories. He just keeps coming. We figure this is the 4th year in a row that he's come and smashed himself against our window as part of his daily routine. My family considers Larry "mentally handicapped" because why on earth would you keep doing the same thing over and over again? It must be painful, or at the very least, frustrating, but he continues down his self-abusive path. Over and over again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Then it hit me. I'm just like Larry! I keep doing the same things over and over again but I'm expecting different results. I know I talk too much. I always feel like I have so much to "tell" everyone. So I just continue to smash against the window, doing the same thing, feeling frustrated and having hurt feelings because I don't feel like I'm communicating as effectively as I want to with my husband, children or anyone really.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">So, I've decided that I don't want to be Larry. I think it's easy to get into the same patterns and repeat behaviors and actions that aren't really helpful or productive. That's my goal. To stop beating myself up and learn from my mistakes. The greatest thing I think I can do is study the life of the Savior and try to be just like Him. He was the master at everything, including communication and every other self mastery skill. Why not learn from the best and try to pattern my habits and life after Him?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Everyone in our family hopes that Larry will realize that he's not getting anywhere in life by running into the window every day. We all hope he will get over whatever fascination he has with the window and that he'll set himself free from the drudgery of repetitive, abusive habits. I hope I can do that too. No one wants to be a Larry.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-size: small;">Cathy Bennett</span></span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-3608065654797863542017-10-15T15:14:00.004-07:002017-10-15T15:20:59.961-07:00Saying NO is Okay<div class="p1">
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">"Saying NO is Okay"</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">There are times that parents say NO! When I was young my dad wanted us to go up to Phoenix to visit somebody, I don't remember who, I just remember that I did not want to go. I was plenty old enough to stay home and that is what I wanted. I kept bugging my dad, pleading with him to "leave me home". He said NO. We all piled in our orange pumpkin van and traveled up to Phoenix. On the way home, I was still pouting and complaining about being there. We were at a stop light, I remember clear as day. Dad stopped and turned around and began talking with me, probably putting me in my spot. The light turned green and Dad was still turned around talking with me; cars behind him honked their horns. He turned around to drive and at that very moment a car ran the red light. If Dad had not been talking with me, we would have been T-boned. As we got home that evening, Dad told me, "I don't know why I didn't feel good about you staying home today, but the experience we had on the way home could have been a very serious one if I would have let you stay home." </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">This experience has come to my memory recently because I had to tell one of my children "NO". I don't know why I feel so strongly about not letting him participate in an activity that seems okay, but after recalling this memory I've decided that I may never know the "why" of saying NO. If my feeling is NO, I should realize the Spirit is guiding me and stick to my answer of NO. Saying NO is hard for me. I hate seeing my child moping around the house, feeling like he's picked on, under appreciated, never getting to do what he wants, etc. I remember being a child and hating the word NO. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="s1">Looking back, I am very grateful for a dad who listened to the spirit and said NO. My family could have been in a very serious accident, while I stayed home. I am grateful for the Holy Ghost who guides, warns and protects </span><span class="s2">and sometimes even says NO.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s2"><span style="font-size: small;">Shannon Morley</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-22682150851296943442017-10-02T16:07:00.003-07:002017-10-02T16:09:50.319-07:00May we always pray in faith, nothing wavering<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Last year our daughter, Tracy brought her young daughter, Jane for a visit from their home in Washington to Utah. We loved playing with that little one year old and were sad to see them go. Tracy was traveling home alone and felt sick when it was time to leave. She managed all their belongings and baby stuff by herself which was no small feat. She called me on their layover practically in tears saying that Jane had literally screamed for most of the first flight and that she had a long layover and really needed her to somehow go to sleep in that crowded, noisy airport. They still had hours ahead of them before they would arrive home.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I dropped to my knees right there and called down the power of heaven in their behalf. I couldn’t do anything else for them. Less than 10 minutes later I received a text that said that Jane was asleep and to keep praying that she would stay that way because prayers work. That knowledge is a marvelous blessing! Jane slept nearly the entire way home. Her mom was never so happy to have completed her journey. I am so grateful for the intervention of a loving Heavenly Father that hears and answers mothers’ prayers, at any time and in any place.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">May we always pray in faith, nothing wavering.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Debbie Morley</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-30835264710043419872017-08-27T09:10:00.003-07:002017-10-15T15:30:08.609-07:00Balance In Our Life<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Balance in our life; we are told to keep our lives balanced, but sometimes life feels overwhelming. You realize you cannot make more time, or have a clone of you made. Then you have to start juggling and feel like you need to let things go, but what to let go? When you are at the point when you do not know how to possibly take care of all who need you and you know you have to ask for help, that is when you humbly realize that you are not superwoman.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I have had an emotional ride this past month. As a Mother, you are only as happy as your saddest child. The first of July my oldest daughter called in tears after having a baby only 2 months earlier. She was struggling with rotating joint pain. She could not even walk some days and other days she would have so much pain in her hands and wrists that she could not hold her baby. With her husband working long hours and because she lives out of state, we made arrangements for her to come to Utah so I could help her with her baby and her two other children.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">While she was at my home, we experienced a 100 year storm and our home was hit very severely. My Daughter was in the basement by a blind-covered window. When the window exploded, a shard of glass cut her ankle, wide and deep. The Police Chief and ambulance crew carried her up to safety just after the third window burst and before the river of muddy water engulfed our basement. So, the first emotion was worry for a daughter who was already experiencing health issues. Then it was complicated by her not being able to walk at all. I stressed about where to have her and her family stay while she recovered because all my bedrooms had been destroyed.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Second emotion was awe, amazement, and appreciation, as family, ward and community came together to suck up the water, muck out and scrap mud, fix landscaping, cut and take out sheetrock, insulation, carpet, and swollen doors, go through garages full of ruined furniture, and personal belongings and provided meals.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Third emotion was feeling overwhelmed. As the week progressed, demands for nurturing my daughter, her baby and her kids became harder as they stayed in her sister’s small home. Humbly we had to ask for help again from the extended family to watch grandkids, so we could deal with the mess of my home and with the needs of my daughter.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Did I mention that during this crazy time we were trying to also get my teenage Son ready to serve a mission? He finally came to me the Thursday before his farewell and asked if I could free up some time to go with him to get a suit before he had to speak that coming Sunday.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Another emotion came in the form of guilt as I spent the day shopping with him while my grandkids were taken to a Sister-in-law’s home to be babysat. Guilt was also an emotion as I let my RS Counselors take over my duties and care for the Sisters of our ward. However, I was so relieved and thankful that I could delegate needs to them.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">The emotion of humility has been my constant companion as I have realized that I am not Superwoman and I need help sometimes too. And gratitude, another companion, as we see the tender mercies; my daughter will recover, we are all safe and our home being flooded is an inconvenience, but not a trial. It could have been so much worse and we see the hand of the Lord in our life protecting us.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">My Son leaves in 3 days for a mission. He just came in and said he saw Aunt Sandi at Salem Days and because she was like his second Mom, he was emotional. So, as I sit here writing this post, my last emotion is mixed; I am so proud of my Son and for his decision to serve a mission, but my heart is being ripped out by allowing and encouraging him to leave for 2 years.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">My daughter, finally able to walk and take care of her family, has gone back to her home, school is going to start soon and my Son will leave on a mission next week. Maybe in my quiet home I will be able to find balance in my life. But how I will remember the friendships, service, love and support that was given to us in a time of need! My emotions will be thankful, grateful and blessed for my time of being out of balance and having to rely on others.</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gina Griffiths</span></span><br />
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Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-56340900154457431552017-07-21T10:45:00.000-07:002017-07-21T10:54:04.193-07:00Morley Family Reunion 2017This Year's theme was Self Reliance. That is why our reunion shirts have an "S".<br />
We are now numbering 160 in our family, from my parents, Ray and Sandy clear down to their newest great granddaughter. I must say it is so fun to spend time with all these wonderful, caring people. I know I'm bias, but I think these pictures are filled with some good looking people. :) I can say that without sounding totally conceded because unfortunately, this year we weren't able to make it. The reunion started out at second oldest, Mike's house and moved to a camp ground own by the LDS church. It lasted two and half days.<br />
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This is just to throw in a little representation for my family. They were doing a young men's survival backpacking trip during this time and my husband was one of the leaders. I figured it went with the whole "self reliance" theme. :)<br />
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<br />Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-10316595803636796052017-06-23T17:13:00.006-07:002017-06-23T17:15:04.908-07:00“But If Not…”<div style="font-family: -webkit-standard; text-size-adjust: auto;">
<span style="font-size: large;">June 26, 2017</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> “But If Not…”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I sat waiting anxiously in the surgical center family area for word from the doctor that had just performed surgery on my Mom to see if she did indeed have cancer. I was nervous, worried, anxious and feeling very much alone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We had just gone through the ordeal of having my Dad pass away just the week before and we were all physically and emotionally spent! There is nothing quite like that phone call that I received at 1:00 am from mom saying that dad had just passed away. He had been struggling with a number of health issues and was getting discouraged and was in pain often. I thought mom would say that he had fallen again and was hurt and that we needed to take him to the hospital. But that was not the case. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had spent that previous morning with Dad, calling the fire </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">department to help him get up off from the bathroom floor because mom had a doctor appointment she had to go to and didn’t want to leave him. He hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor though because he told me to get his phone and take a picture of him laying there on the floor. That was a shocker. The SGFD graciously helped him get up and I helped him into bed. I told him to rest and that I had to leave but would return soon to check on him. He was so grateful for my help and said, “I am so glad that you came.” I gave him a hug and said that I loved him and would be back soon. That was the last time I spoke with my dad. I was ever so grateful that I had had the opportunity of serving and helping him in so many ways in the previous months. It was trying at times, but I was quickly reminded that there was no greater thing I could spend my time doing than serving my parents after their lifetime of service to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mom’s doctor visit was a bit disheartening and we opted to ignore the possibilities until after the funeral. Then we had to face it head on. As I sat on that couch nervously waiting for the doctor to come out I was ever so grateful for the kindness and support of family. Families are an eternal blessing that we share here in mortality. As I contemplated the possible outcome, I kept hearing the words, “But if not…” pounding in my mind and I asked myself, “Am I strong enough and do I have enough faith to accept whatever the outcome may be? Of course I wanted mom to be ok and have that be the end of it. But if not, could I be strong enough to help her through whatever may lie ahead? Would I turn to God for strength and not away from Him accusingly? Would this be an event that would shape me and increase my testimony of Christ and His atonement and the love of an all-knowing God or would I choose to withdraw from them? How much faith did I have and what was I going to do with it?”</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It only took a few moments for the Spirit of the Lord to remind me that, “Of course I would choose God and His love and compassion. I could never bear this trial alone. I needed the support and comfort and help that only my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ could offer. They would give me strength beyond my own and bear me up. Always and forever!” I felt certain that with them, I could do hard things!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The doctor came to the waiting room and told me that he was very sure that the tumors in </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mom’s bladder were cancerous and that he would wait for the pathology report to know the extent and the next course of action. I asked whatever questions I could think of while hearing the word “Cancer” swirl relentlessly in my head. As I exited that room and the reality of what I had just been told sunk deep into my soul I found myself in tears with a broken heart for the trial that mom now had heaped upon her after such a difficult event had just happened in her life. It was just 2 days after dad’s funeral. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During the past few weeks I have been strengthened abundantly by Mom’s courage and have felt love and assurance from Dad many times. It took me two weeks of crying myself to sleep and waking up to those same tears before I felt the Lord whisper that enough was enough. It was time to pick myself up and move on facing whatever our new normal would be with faith, courage, optimism and gratitude.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The road ahead is still unsure and laced with many unseen trials and challenges to be sure. But </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have had a reawakening of my faith; a rekindling of my desire to move forward with Jesus Christ by my side knowing that, “With God, nothing is impossible.” Reassured that I can “be of good cheer…for I am in your midst, and I have not forsaken you.” Believing that the Lord will truly “go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your heart, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” I will be eternally grateful for these reassuring truths that sustain us all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">May your lives be filled with joy and happiness, but if not, may we always choose to follow the Lord and be changed forever. </span></div>
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Debbie</div>
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Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-36200992547620111962017-06-20T13:54:00.000-07:002017-06-20T14:12:17.394-07:00Somethings Cooking<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Growing up, we never ate out. And when I say never, I mean I could probably count on my hands the times my dad brought home big buckets of fried chicken or store-bought pizza. I don’t remember going to an actual restaurant until I was a teenager. (The restaurant was in Las Vegas, and my mom embarrassed Chrisy by asking what time the buffet opened, but Mom pronounced it like it’s spelled.) </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Mom was always in the kitchen fixing meals, and we were always in there either helping or eating or chatting. Honestly, how could a single-income family with thirteen children feed everyone if Mom didn’t know how to cook? So, Mom taught herself to cook, and we all learned from her. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">When my husband and I got engaged, I asked him if he was a picky eater and I was relieved to hear him say no. But then we got married and I realized that his definition of picky and mine didn’t exactly align. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Luckily, I have an understanding husband who eats whatever I make without complaint, but over the course of our 16 years of marriage, I have learned the value of knowing how to cook. When we had two small children and Mark was in school, we had the smallest imaginable food budget. Looking back, I still can’t believe we made it work. We didn’t have the money to buy frozen foods we could just pop in the oven, not to mention eating out. I prepared and/or cooked everything from our bread to our desserts to our every meal, because we couldn’t even afford cold cereal. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">That skill came in handy again when we lived in New Zealand because I figured out how to make the kinds of food — crackers and cookies and biscuits — we couldn’t find there and I made them often. I learned to make tortillas and enchilada sauce and pumpkin cookies from an actual pumpkin instead of from a can. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Now that I’m gluten-free, sugar-free, and milk-free, and my husband eats egg-free, I’ve had to rearrange the way I cook all over again. There are all sorts of products available that cater to what we need, but they’re expensive. (Like $8 for a loaf of bread. Ack!) It’s also important to me to know exactly what I’m eating. I don’t like the idea of putting things into my body that I can’t pronounce and that don’t exist in the natural world. The point is, that without the knowledge I gained growing up, we wouldn’t be eating as healthy and we’d likely be spending twice as much on food just so we could eat according to what our bodies accept. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">And truth be told, I’d much rather spend money on books and clothes than on food. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I know that learning to cook isn’t popular among a lot of people. We make mistakes and sometimes the food doesn’t turn out the way we hope. It takes time and effort. Some view it as a step back for women, who should be working outside the home instead of learning to keep house. But what husband or wife would complain about their spouse cooking the things they both like and saving money in the process? </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Consistent cooking can create opportunities you couldn’t afford, or wouldn’t have otherwise. I’m just saying, learning to cook and bake is a good idea. You’ll never regret it. I haven’t. </span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">-Mandi</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-28958022759442005712017-06-12T18:30:00.002-07:002017-06-23T17:15:47.484-07:00Because My Mom Said to :)<div class="page" title="Page 1">
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I’m writing this for my mom, or because she asked me to. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Each of my sisters have been taking a week to post on this blog and while some have shared traditions, advice, or memories, I will share how my life changed. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">When I was young I was a difficult child, and that is putting it mildly. I must have been unhappy but I wouldn’t describe it that way. I cried often and annoyed many. My family were beside themselves as to know how to handle me. I remember my mom asking, “What will make you happy?” I would often throw fits if things didn’t go my way. I even remember at a young age hitting my head up against the brick floor in the kitchen because I was mad. That wasn’t even the worst of it. I remember throwing such a fit when my mom took me to buy a new dress we didn’t even make it into the store. She got back into the car and we went right home. I threw brushes and broke them because I didn’t like my hair. Worse was when I would lose my temper and throw objects at my siblings. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">My poor brother, Mark, who is just one year and three days older, took most of my temper. I once — and I am totally ashamed about this — broke a wood necklace over Mark’s head. I also hit him with a hoe because he caught me during tag. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Then, of course, there were the times at school. I beat up a boy older than me for swearing, and I spit in a boy’s face because he put his finger in the frosting of my cupcake. Then there was punching a boy (okay, boys) for teasing others in my class. I was explosive and had a temper I couldn’t control. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At this point you are probably thinking, “Yes, you’re a brat.” You would be right. I share this humiliating past so you will understand. Understand who I was and why it was important for me to change. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Part of my problem was that I expected a lot from myself. This seems funny, I’m sure.<br />
If I expected so much from myself, then why wasn’t I better? I would envision how something was suppose to happen, or how I was suppose to be, and when it didn’t go according to plan, I would lose it. I wouldn’t know how to adapt to change, so I would loose control. I would get mad at myself, the situation, or others, and I would throw a fit. Then I would be so mad and embarrassed that I threw a fit, I would throw an even bigger fit. It was an endless cycle that caused self-hate. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I remember being so embarrassed later, but the damage was done. I couldn’t forgive myself, so how could I expect anyone else to. I hated who I was and was sure no one could love me. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Then a remarkable thing happened. My dad had promised me if I would read The Book of Mormon everyday I wouldn’t be a horrible reader anymore, but would become a good reader. As I read, it stopped being just words to get through and became a message. I guess you could say my testimony began to grow. As I read, I started to feel my Heavenly Father; I felt I was loved. I felt happy. I began to learn what the Atonement of Jesus Christ was. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">At first I didn’t really understand it. I knew the Savior died so that we could be forgiven, but I didn’t know how that could help me. For one, I didn’t see my sins as big enough to need the Atonement of Jesus Christ. They felt insignificant compared to the sins I was reading about. Secondly, I thought, “I’ll just do it again, so what’s the point?” I didn’t understand how repentance changes a person. As time went on though, the Spirit must have been working on me. I remember Sunday school lessons that left me with a desire to be better, to be more. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Then, one day in my seventh grade year, I came home and my world tilted. I came in to find a list of chores because my mom wasn’t home. She had asked that I take all the shoes downstairs up to everyone’s closets. Now, I am pretty competitive and can turn anything into a challenge. Plus, as I said, I put pressure on myself. There were at least 20 pairs of shoes, and I was convinced I could take them up in one trip. Why it would matter if I made two trips is a mystery to me. As I balanced all the shoes in my arms and headed upstairs, I stumbled, and most of the shoes fell from my arms, bouncing back down the stairs. The shoes that didn’t fall, I pretty much threw. I flung myself to the ground and started into a fit. As I sat there, absorbed in my own self pity, I saw myself with more clarity than ever before. It was as if I saw myself the way others saw me and I didn’t like at all what I saw. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My fit shifted to sobs and a prayer to my Heavenly Father, begging Him to help me change. As I cried and pleaded for His help, it was as if I saw how the Atonement of Jesus Christ could help me. And not just on a big scale where you repent of big sins but on a daily basis. More than anything, I felt my Heavenly Father’s and Savior’s love for me and began to love myself. I felt worthy of forgiveness. I would pray often so I wouldn’t lose my temper, and eventually it wasn’t my “go-to” reaction. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">That day started me on a journey to self worth. I prayed more intently and studied the scriptures with true intent. I pictured who I wanted to be and pretended I was already that person. I faked being happy until one day I realized I wasn’t faking. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">One trick I used was to envision how I wished I would have handled a situation. By me reenacting it in my mind, handling it differently, it allowed me to not get mad at myself and arrive at a different outcome. I might have still made the mistake and even, at times, lost my temper, but by doing this technique it began to break the never-ending cycle. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">I would say the hardest part, and what me want to give up at times, was that everyone was used to me behaving a certain way. When I would mess up, they would automatically treat me as though I was going to have a meltdown. It took everyone so much longer than I would have liked to realize I was changing. There were times I would have lapses, but my desire to change wasn’t short lived and wasn’t just so others would notice, although that was important to me. I really wanted to continue to become a person I actually liked. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Now at age 40, and being married for just over 19 years, one of my biggest compliments is that my husband doesn’t believe I could have ever been the person I described. No matter how many times my siblings and parents have confirmed it’s true. I am so grateful to such a wonderful family who put up with me and then so lovingly forgave me. I am beyond thankful for a loving and generous Heavenly Father who loves me so much He sent his only begotten son to die for my sins and so I could change. I am grateful for the challenge this was in my life because without it I wouldn’t know my Lord Savior. I wouldn’t understand how the Atonement of Jesus Christ works on a personal level. He loves me and because of it, I learned to love myself. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica";">-Mary</span></div>
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Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-38677985920636188062017-06-11T08:44:00.000-07:002017-06-11T09:08:01.884-07:00The Will of God<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">"Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I ran onto the basketball court for my pregame warmup. It was my senior year of high school, and tonight's game was different. I knew that somewhere in the stands were college scouts. Not just any scouts, but the Ricks College (aka BYU I) head basketball coach was there...to watch me. Growing up in Rexburg, ID, my dream had been to play for Ricks College, for as long as I could remember. And, finally I was getting a shot to prove myself. I longed to have the best game of my life. I needed to have the best game of my life. I wanted it so badly.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">But, it didn't happen.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I had one of the worst games of my high school career. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Dejected, I came home crying and upset. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Not surprisingly, Ricks didn't offer me a scholarship. However, they did invite me to their group tryout, like a consolation prize...which honestly made me feel like a charity case. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I felt that years and years of practice and hard work were of naught. Why? I had put in the time. I had put in the work. And, if I was going for sympathy points, I deserved a break! It had been an especially trying year for me my senior year, as I had cared for my sweet mom battling cancer day in and day out. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I decided to stay close to home, go to Ricks and not play basketball. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I registered for fall semester and found a roommate. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">I didn't need to play basketball anymore.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Only then, I changed my mind....well, my inspired dad helped me change my mind. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Dads push us to our dreams and believe in us, even when we don't believe in ourselves. And, my dad was no exception. He didn't want me to give up on my goal of playing college basketball. So, I picked myself up, packed my bags and tried-out at several other colleges in Idaho and Utah. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Long story short (I know, too late), I ended up in Price, UT at College of Eastern Utah. I didn't know a single soul there, and I had to look it up on a map (actually, I'm sure most people that even live in Utah have to look Price up on a map)! The CEU coach told me over the phone before I came down and tried out that he didn't have any scholarships to give, and his roster was full. I still decided to make the trip, and miracles do happen. He offered me a full-ride scholarship before I left that day. Although it was hard, really hard, to move away from home, more specifically, move away from my dying mother, it was the right decision. Price felt so right and still feels like home to me this day.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">Six months after moving to Price to begin college, I started dating my eternal sweetheart. His spirit has always felt so familiar to me. I'm forever grateful the Lord guided me to him. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">My story is not unique. I testify that the Lord has a plan for each one of us. As we align our will with his, he can make so much more out of ourselves than we could ever do alone. I was so dejected when I fell short of my goal to play at Ricks College. However, it wasn't where I needed to be. The Lord knew that; I was still figuring that part out. I testify that we each have unique gifts and talents that the Lord can magnify and truly make us an instrument in His hands. And, last, but certainly not least, I testify that He lives and loves each one of us. He is aware of us...especially in the details of our lives."</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.mormonchannel.org/watch/series/mormon-messages/the-will-of-god-2">"The Will of God" by Elder Christofferson</a></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">-Tasha</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-29299762409995181152017-06-04T21:13:00.001-07:002017-06-12T18:50:31.034-07:00Beau's Secret <div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Exactly a year ago today, I was doing something I would have never expected. I was holding and rocking my niece's tiny baby while she was mourning the death of her brother, Beau, in the other room. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We had gone to Colorado, like we did every year over Memorial Day Weekend, only this time was different. As soon as we pulled into our old familiar hotel parking lot, we got a frantic call from Liz, Mike's Sister, saying that Beau, her 16 year old son, had been in a terrible ATV accident and was being life flighted to the nearest hospital. After making sure which hospital he was being taken to, we headed there also. We entered the room in the ER, still not believing that Beau could really be that badly injured. When we saw Beau laying there, Liz softly crying and stroking his hair back, we felt that he was gone. It wasn't him. His body was laying there but his spirit was gone. I took Ashley's baby and went to the waiting area to try and give her time to grieve and to be there for her mom and family. It was in that waiting room that I started to learn more about Beau and the kind of person he was. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We waited for several hours in that waiting room and every hour that passed, we would hear an alarm of some type go off. Another cousin, Chelsea, and I were both tending little children and we finally found the phone that was going off. It was Beau's phone and it had a message in it. It was then that I realized what Beau knew. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Honestly, I didn't really have a relationship with Beau. I only saw him a few times a month and when we saw each other, there was a quick hug, a few pleasantries were exchanged and that was about it. I loved him and thought he was a "good kid" but at family gatherings, he would go hang out with the teenagers and I would stay with the adults so there really wasn't much interaction. Everything I knew about Beau, came mostly from talking to his mom, Liz, and from Grandma Bennett. I did know that</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Beau wasn't perfect. He was a regular 16-year-old teenage boy who sometimes talked back to his parents and broke curfew. He had a really messy bedroom and he loved to do crazy, silly things with his friends and he always had a smile on his face. He was pretty normal. But not really. Beau had learned something that a lot of people don't figure out for a really long time. Some people never figure it out. Beau learned the secret for being truly happy. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Growing up Beau had done what all the boys his age and in his social circle were pushed to do, he played sports. He played football and baseball mostly and he played golf whenever he could. It was probably expected because he came from athletic families. Grandpas on both sides of the family had truly excelled in sports. But somewhere along the way, Beau started to see what some of his friends that he played sports with were doing and he didn't like the choices they were making and maybe some of the choices he was making when he was with them. He made a big decision to stop playing those sports and to stop hanging around those friends. That was hard. Anyone who has experienced changing friend groups, and probably everyone has, knows how hard that is. There was probably a little bullying going on and making life miserable for him for a while from those old friends but Beau found new friends and before long he was filling his time with other things instead of playing sports. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One of his new found activities was going to the temple every week and Beau was finding that he was happier than ever before. He tried to serve others by volunteering at places and also by doing family history and he used that big smile of his to make friends wherever he went. He really liked to find new people at school and be a friend to them. They said that he even deleted his social media accounts because he felt that he needed to concentrate on living his own life and not watch other people live theirs. He wanted to live life to the fullest and not waste a minute of time being unhappy or comparing himself with others. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At the funeral for Beau, Beau's bishop told how he had come to him several months before he passed away and said he wanted to think about the Savior more. That's when he had come up with his plan. He set an alarm to go off every hour on his phone that would say, "Make Christ the Center of Your Life." Every time he saw it flash on his screen, he would try to serve someone, recite a song or scripture or say a prayer. He was working hard to try and live as Christlike as possible. He wanted his thoughts through out the day, to be centered on Christ, our true source of happiness and joy. Beau wasn't perfect. No one is. But Beau had found out a great truth at the young age of 16, a truth that many people don't figure out their whole lives. CHRIST is the CENTER of everything. If we center our lives on HIM, then we find a power and an inner peace that comes only in and through HIM. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Everyone is sad that Beau had to leave this life at such a young age. But the beauty of Beau leaving this earth is that his secret is being told everywhere now. There's a big movement of people who are sick of being unhappy and insecure. When they see Beau's story and learn his secret, then they can be "happi" too! (Beau's license plate said happy with an "i") Make CHRIST the CENTER of your life. That's the key. That's the secret. Beau knew how to be happy and his message is spreading to the world. </span></span></div>
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-Cathy</div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-1088876581781380622017-06-03T16:17:00.003-07:002017-06-12T18:45:31.075-07:00I like New Years!<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"The Lord is teaching me a spiritual lesson with my physical body"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All things are spiritual unto the Lord. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I really like New Years! I like the idea of getting to start over, and trying again. I like Sundays, and mornings for the same reason. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I use to have a tendency to want to fix every thing I do wrong right this minute...then I would fail, and beat myself up for not being everything I should be. Although I still sometimes think this way, I have learned through a pattern set in the temple that that's not how the Lord works. He gives us one thing at a time. We work on it until we have mastered it, then we return to him and report. He used this pattern even with our Savior and He is perfect! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This year Josh Penrod asked us all to do a self evaluation and really think about where we are, and what would best help us improve. I took this challenge seriously, and made it a matter of prayer. This morning I went to the temple seeking guidance in knowing what I lack and how to go about improving. On my own I could think of a lot of things I need to do better, in fact so many that I don't know where to start. That's why I wanted to know where the Lord thought I should start. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is what I felt...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I developed some wonderful gifts in the pre earth life, gifts I'm extremely thankful for and have served me well in this life. Some of those gifts are obedience. I don't question what I should do or why, I just do it. I don't even think about why, just that I know I should, so I do. Maybe some people would think that's a bad thing, but for me it's been a huge blessing because in the doing I learn the why and I understand fully the joy that living the gospel brings. It's how I have gained my testimony. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am content in pretty much every situation. I have lived in some pretty crappy places, eaten horrible food, dealt with people who are hard to get along with...I have to say for the most part my life has been ideal so i don't really have much to complain about, but I don't really complain. I'm good at adjusting. My dad calls me content. Brian calls me low maintenance. My siblings call me easy going. All that being said, it's been a blessing to not get too worked up over things. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am an extremely routine person. For the most part I do the same thing everyday at the same times, I could eat the same thing everyday and not get sick of it, I do the same things day after day, and week after week and I pretty much like it that way. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I believe God likes routine. So much of what we do in the church is repetition. So much of the earth He created runs on a routine. It gives us time to figure things out, and make small changes along the way. Routine gives me comfort. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am so thankful for these gifts! They are part of who I am, and I feel these things are pleasing in many ways to my Father in Heaven. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">With these gifts comes new lessons to learn. These are the lessons I'm going to focus on this upcoming year. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It came to my mind that I have always exercised my physical body. I would work hard and push myself, but I was only going through the motions, so although it was doing some good for me, it wasn't doing what it could have done. I was just stuck in a routine, not asking questions. Doing things because I should. In the last year I have learned that change comes from not just going through the motions, but doing things with real intent. Thinking about what you're doing, and why, embracing the pain, as well and the reward. Really feeling things!!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I started exercising differently and connecting in my workouts it made me feel vulnerable, i wasn't sure I liked it. I couldn't make the correct connections and I wanted to just move and not think. I'm so glad I stuck with it! I have learned so much I couldn't go back to the old way. Now the way I use to exercise seems pointless, and silly. I now can see clearly when others aren't connected to there bodies, and they are just going through the motions, and it makes me feel sorry for them. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have been really good at disconnecting in other parts of my life. I feel when I want to feel. I feel happy things, and spiritual things but if something is sad, hard, or stressful, I can just shut if off and not feel. I can go through the motions, but never really engage in what is happening. There is good in allowing yourself to feel and not just going to a "happy place" and checking out.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> I need to live in the moment that I'm in.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Live intentionally!! Be grateful for that specific moment. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know the Savior allowed himself to feel all the pain, sadness, happiness, goodness that we experience. I need to learn to live my life in a way that I allow myself to feel more fully. I think that starts with being aware. Not just going through the motions, really living with a purpose. I'm not sure exactly what the practical steps are....</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I started reading a book about temples that talked about how we can miss the point of the temple when we just go, but don't think about what we are doing there. In the temples of old they made the stairs leading up to the temple different dimensions so that people couldn't mindlessly walk into the temple. You had to think about where you were stepping as you entered the temple. I like the idea of taking intentional steps. I don't know exactly what the practical steps are for this journey, I just know it's the next step in my progression. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Taking that step scares me to death! What if it's really painful. Facing things that aren't pleasant is never fun, but how do I fix the things that aren't right if I just act like they don't exist? It's scary!! I think about the mountains I could climb if I stop making the mountains into molehills. There isn't growth in walking up a molehill☺️</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I worry that if I allow myself to feel, that just like the physical part I won't be able to go back to just checking out. I'll be connected. I also think it will be so much better in the long run if I can allow myself to feel. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Opposition in all things...pain and pleasure </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sadness and joy. How can I really understand one without the other? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">-Sandi</span>Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-25423225106546247532017-05-28T17:57:00.001-07:002017-05-31T12:52:30.466-07:00Memorial Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
What do you do for Memorial Day? Dad, Mom and Geri spent the weekend before with Mark and Tasha's family in Price visiting loved one's grave sights, and showing their respect. </div>
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While there they visited a museum featuring mining history on Helper Main St that was very educational and interesting, especially to these two. Their father's were both miners.</div>
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Mom got teary eyed when seeing the pictures (detailing the Castle Gate explosion) that brought back so many memories of her own Dad. She pointed to the helmet and lunch pail and said, "that's what my Dad use to wear."<br />
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Memorial Day BBQ and swim day at the Morley's<br />
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There was also chores done before heading to the pool and...</div>
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in WA hay was being stacked while...<br />
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in OR a garden was planted and they enjoyed their own (slightly scaled down:) pool party...<br />
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until they were all tuckered out!<br />
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Hope your Memorial Day was just as memorable!</div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-66684391178455201612017-05-28T17:12:00.002-07:002017-05-29T09:20:10.942-07:00Family Happenings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Emily got married! (Michele's)</div>
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Hyrum average 2nd in team roping for the rodeo over the weekend and 7th for the year! (Audra's)</div>
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Brandon with his grandparents</div>
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Brandon graduates (Gina's)</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Morley's team takes it all! (Cathy's)</span><br />
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Ella wins class president! Yay Ella! (Tasha's)</div>
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Kimball places several times in track (Krystin's)</div>
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Clara is region 16 champion for the 1600 meter and the 800 meter races! (Audra's)</div>
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Sandy-Kaye took first in her ball room competition held in Portland, OR (above picture is of prom- Chrisy's)</div>
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Brett and Seth went bear hunting and were successful! Having a great time and bringing home a bear. (Mary's)</div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6198622583369661157.post-68278192702210739342017-05-24T07:09:00.002-07:002017-05-24T17:43:11.568-07:00Motherhood<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">All I ever wanted to be was a mother surrounded by a lot of children of my own. My Ellie asks me all the time if dreams really come true and I must say, "yes! I am surrounded by my 10 children and wonderful husband daily. A dream come true, so yes, Dreams do come true." Being a mom is the most rewarding job in the world. It's also the hardest and most thankless job. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Everyone goes through periods of time when they wonder if the dishes will wash themselves or if the laundry could sprout legs and walk into the laundry room, jump in the washing machine and wash itself. A mom has to make a healthy breakfast, lunch and dinner that appeals to all the children and the husband and don't forget to account for food allergies. There are times when the children are cranky and rude and argue and fight. What about the times when the school work is not getting done just because they don't see how it will relate to their life.? There are also times when you are up all night with a sick child or with another child because they had a bad dream or with another child who just can't sleep because they are anxious about something. A mom can't forget about developing talents so we take our children to lessons and practices so they can be the star of the show or the all star athletes. Lets not forget to teach them to pray and do personal scripture study and have a testimony of the gospel. A mom is the maid, the chef, the referee, the teacher and tutor, the comforter, the doctor, the psychologist, the taxi driver, the cheerleader, the spiritual coach, the center of the children's life. A mother is the world to her children. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">As women we look at other moms with their completely together life and we compare ourselves. We fall into those times when we feel like we need to do more and that everything we do is not enough or not as good as Sally, or Mary, or Martha, or all the other moms. President Uchtdorf</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s1">said it best when he said, "Stop it!" We can't compare ourselves to someone else. In October 2001, President Hinckley counseled us that "life is to be enjoyed, not just endured". We must enjoy life, we must find joy in the little things. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Recently my eyes were opened to the view of a mother from the child's perspective. This happened over the last few months as our primary children and young women in our ward have been learning a song for Mother's Day. My children practiced the song throughout the week and would sing it as they went about their day. They were practicing so they were prepared to sing it in sacrament meeting. I started singing the song myself and reflecting on what the words were saying as I went through my busy day of caring for my family and home. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">"More than Enough" by Shawna Edwards and Rebecca Edwards Woolf. I use the lyrics here with permission from Shawna Edwards. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maybe I'll never know the love it takes</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">To make me a happy home that's warm and safe, </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And maybe I'll never see how you pray for my every need,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And wonder what more you could do for me. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">But when you walk by my side,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Read me stories at night,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And teach me to trust in Gods love.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You give me a hug, maybe two,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And you say "I love you!"</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Then I think that you're doing enough. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Maybe you wonder if you're teaching me</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Every good thing that I can someday be. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">But all that I know of faith, and of kindness and love and strength </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">I've learned just by watching you everyday. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">So when you stay by my side,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Hear my stories at night. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And teach me to trust in Gods love,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You give me a hug, maybe two,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And you say "I love you,"</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Then I think that you're doing enough. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Someday I'll have a home, a family </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And I'll love them just as much as you love me. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Then maybe you'll finally see,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You have given enough for me,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">A gift that will last through eternity.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">So when you stay by my side,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Hear my stories at night. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And teach me to trust in Gods love,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You give me a hug, maybe two,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And you say "I love you,"</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Then I think that you're MORE than enough. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And I'm blessed every step by your love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">When as a mother your life is crazy busy trying to care for the home and family, and you are sleep deprived and feel you never have enough time to get everything done, think of your little ones and the future mothers and fathers you are raising and just know you are doing More than Enough. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">President Hinckley in October 2003 said, "You dear women, I say thanks to you. Thank you for being the kind of people you are and doing the things you do." I echo his words when I say thank you for being amazing women and mothers. In the craziness of raising a family we must keep doing the things we are doing. The little things matter most. As a mother we hold the future in our arms daily as we care for our family. Satan knows this and will do all he can to discourage us and make mothers feel they aren't doing enough. I'm grateful for tender mercies from our Heavenly Father when he gently reminds me through the simple words of a song sung by my children. They reminded me I was doing "More than Enough". </span></span><br />
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We cook.<br />
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We plant.<br />
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We eat.<br />
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We play. These crazy girls give me a heart attack<br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">We hike and love to be together.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Love, Audra</span></span></div>
Women of the Morley Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05282781227536341622noreply@blogger.com0