tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79883918786934234362024-02-06T19:58:43.076-07:00The Labit FamilyCookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comBlogger949125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-54483967462184330602020-11-20T16:29:00.000-07:002020-11-20T16:29:37.900-07:00The Adventures of Wildabeast: The Burger of All Burgers.<p> Because this is all new territory for us- it's a whole bunch of firsts. </p><p>But we are wise enough to know how spoiled we are to get to talk to Will every week. </p><p>The other night we spent an hour just going over all the stuff.</p><p>And then we ran out of things to talk about.</p><p>That felt nice.</p><p>Nice to know that though he is gone for two years, we will be connected enough for that to happen. </p><p>God is so good. </p><p>It's been a good week.</p><p>And with that being said, here is the weekly email:</p><p>Good day to you ALL! It's been a minute since I talked to you last! Much has happened since I emailed you last, and per the title, these things are either going to make or break my moms day! So let's get right into it, shall we?</p><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">1. I am opening a new area with my comp in the little town of Bisbee Arizona. The ward has about 187 members, but only 20 are active. So this means we are out in the boonies with NO SUPERVISION. The nearest elders are a half hour away and half the ward is too.</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">2. So, mother, remember how you always tried to get to to clean my room and stuff an I never did? Well now my room never gets dirty, AND I make my bed. EVERY. MORNING. Wish it could happened sooner, eh?</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">3. As a big part of me being homesick (which hasn't been bad, mind you), my companion and I have started decorating for christmas already. GASP! WHAT?? WHO AM I!!! Yeah I know I'm a hypocrite, its FINE. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">4. Before we left to come to our area, the pres came up to us and said, "Hey. So there are a few areas in your mission that you CANNOT go to when the sun goes down. One is the border, because that area is run by the cartels at night. And the other is old Bisbee. That ones not physically dangerous, but it IS spiritually dangerous. So... have fun!" So ya love you mom!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">5. Remember how you always tried to get me to eat oatmeal every morning, something about it being healthy and I would always just eat my sugar cereal instead? Well. We eat oatmeal every morning and its AWESOME.</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">6. So I started running again. Ya. My comp and I RUN. So that ones for you AND Sister Jensen. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">7. So I have Facebook for the mission, yeah? Well in 7 days I have gone up 1100 friends. Sure over half of them are Filipino or they speak spanish but hey a friend is a friend!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">8. My first day out street contacting, we had a guy approach us and call us antichrists because of the temple. So that was fun. Another man came up to us and said that he took a DNA test, and he found out he has the blood of Jesus Christ, so he's saved. That's just the people of old Bisbee haha they have opinions and aren't afraid to tell you them!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">Ok before I destroy your dear heart, I'll stop haha! But I do have a story for y'all. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">So when we got to or house, we were desperately hoping for a washer and dryer, meaning we wouldn't have to drive a half hour to wash our clothes every week. But alas, there was none. So we spent the week looking for a washer, praying, looking on facebook marketplace, yard sales, anything. But no dice. Until yesterday, when we went up to a members house for dinner. These people had just moved in, and had inherited all of this stuff from a guy who died, and they bought his house. As we were getting ready to leave, the wife said "Do you guys need anything? At all? How about a couch?" I looked st my comp and was like "YES. WE NEED A COUCH!" And she said "Ok. Um... how about... a washer and dryer?" So long story short we got our washer and dryer, a couch, a dining room table and chairs the night before we would've had to go a half hour to wash clothes. This is just my story to prove that God does know your needs, and he WILL provide!!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">So that's all I got for this week. If y'all dont know what Old Bisbee looks like, look it up. It's super cool. I'll send a pic of one of the buildings, I want able to get a shot of the whole town yet. But ya! Love you all, thanks for sticking with me!</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">-Elder Labit</div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">Pic 1: flying over the heckin Grand Canyon</div><div dir="auto">Pic 2: an old 1800s church in the middle of old bisbee</div><div dir="auto">Pic 3: the border wallllllll</div><div dir="auto">Pic 4: a burger I got at the Bisbee Breakfast Club</div><div dir="auto">Pic 5: Tucson Temple. Yes i know its lopsided</div><div dir="auto">Pic 6: the beginning of our decorations </div><div dir="auto">Pic 7: the old abandoned mine in the middle of town. Its HUGE</div><div class="adL" dir="auto"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></div><div class="yj6qo"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjYfq7zHWRyIb4Mf660n6_4XNSMHeU6Bl9b3ZiNFcASyx1m-PYUDCLQucr5xHeE7WWuOtiUu4WdfrGDDIRKWL2xGnEilQxydyWrUICWYdehXY-ls3KBkl74SNi4QCRH8XjraCvaEqPOD2/s2048/20201109_115101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjYfq7zHWRyIb4Mf660n6_4XNSMHeU6Bl9b3ZiNFcASyx1m-PYUDCLQucr5xHeE7WWuOtiUu4WdfrGDDIRKWL2xGnEilQxydyWrUICWYdehXY-ls3KBkl74SNi4QCRH8XjraCvaEqPOD2/w300-h400/20201109_115101.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZfm1j0JHCoR-mq-AXXvL-L2pMF1JKhTV_fOO7d2cdFnIQ-NRa6dvNkuLcTMMDCaqfKfI6W0Wah4VwZ6drflWZGM_ghxCV9oQsFJW4Moibe00wOQ3tSG2rbwipU8IR78szmC-otTp65G6/w300-h400/20201113_171942.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqKjEWxCkM2F1FAFsMXdRPY3sEvkAC2aaFo7El37UJ27-YsuiAFJPPWDTEZrjvpJLmL6Sp5VjgPg9N8Wb0kQpmlJ4qQc-S31HzV5xxk2HTlcJ2AK_kbGKbftE6RFjEL-bBLGPNpAg9rtg/s2048/20201112_151858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqKjEWxCkM2F1FAFsMXdRPY3sEvkAC2aaFo7El37UJ27-YsuiAFJPPWDTEZrjvpJLmL6Sp5VjgPg9N8Wb0kQpmlJ4qQc-S31HzV5xxk2HTlcJ2AK_kbGKbftE6RFjEL-bBLGPNpAg9rtg/s320/20201112_151858.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-22473119479196496852020-11-15T15:36:00.000-07:002020-11-15T15:36:06.848-07:00The Adventures of Wildabeast: The Longest Week so far....<p style="margin-left: 80px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Tomorrow marks one week in the mission field. And even though it was a loooong week, I have to remind myself that we are actually 7 weeks in now, thanks to home MTC where he didn't really feel gone, because he wasn't, duh.<br /></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5yDPeUKgjEsNBVX4n34gAs7Wy5EWTEVs0ljwz04FrDKgUo-2lZs9KL45buimXir-pZQpS67ytvZgMCgtfOX6jPENFpXIUcrnS8CYU383wPoKW0HZSIa3Wq1RyPIpYJ4IRP6i7OyeENlc/s600/IMG-0207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5yDPeUKgjEsNBVX4n34gAs7Wy5EWTEVs0ljwz04FrDKgUo-2lZs9KL45buimXir-pZQpS67ytvZgMCgtfOX6jPENFpXIUcrnS8CYU383wPoKW0HZSIa3Wq1RyPIpYJ4IRP6i7OyeENlc/w300-h400/IMG-0207.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His companion from St. George, Elder Williams<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks to his mission president's wife we have a few pictures of the arrival. </span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qAVST_4kR14aELUB77Ou57ngyWZkxszKi5VuCAESUqploNqcqryGMJKje4DOhEtf1jn9S164Pm8GT9xAzNJesdzdJZdMUefGuhx2jbKjdFWr1cS2i3uyE1Gmh07mjkybXWNrG3r5Cu5B/s640/IMG-0191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qAVST_4kR14aELUB77Ou57ngyWZkxszKi5VuCAESUqploNqcqryGMJKje4DOhEtf1jn9S164Pm8GT9xAzNJesdzdJZdMUefGuhx2jbKjdFWr1cS2i3uyE1Gmh07mjkybXWNrG3r5Cu5B/w300-h400/IMG-0191.JPG" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span><p></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNz2nF9tcnyHUv_nQf9zRLuJT47ZbMqd8q2d2tLjn_SY2d0xLOGVCEOdaDJTwMI_BW5eapgDhANkCaTyLsGbi89wQB6ovklWE0aP_PaNYQbYP-JQnXp11ZLfUcnVMmiyN6StY4_Y3Z_3gP/s640/IMG-0195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNz2nF9tcnyHUv_nQf9zRLuJT47ZbMqd8q2d2tLjn_SY2d0xLOGVCEOdaDJTwMI_BW5eapgDhANkCaTyLsGbi89wQB6ovklWE0aP_PaNYQbYP-JQnXp11ZLfUcnVMmiyN6StY4_Y3Z_3gP/w400-h300/IMG-0195.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnMNqcVbgin5-bZW_iO00bL2pOUwRZXeSAL0B3sBy6_nEyD_uAS9gaSRBv-4UVL6YOlLI_MTLF3Fg3wwrOTYhq3yTFWZTkDJrfnxi-EKKTnqiyelYk2a801yxDhnJqUv9czCnEgi6dmXB/s640/IMG-0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnMNqcVbgin5-bZW_iO00bL2pOUwRZXeSAL0B3sBy6_nEyD_uAS9gaSRBv-4UVL6YOlLI_MTLF3Fg3wwrOTYhq3yTFWZTkDJrfnxi-EKKTnqiyelYk2a801yxDhnJqUv9czCnEgi6dmXB/w300-h400/IMG-0192.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">President and Sister Grisel<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span><p></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">And on Tuesday, because it was a half p-day, he actually got to call. Which was great <i>and </i>hard- he looked a little shell-shocked. So amazing the crazy courage it must take to do this mission thing.</span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83HwSGU6FvXv2r_hq9zRcnuSF2-AwIBiv5Ia_Y9E9Lj3GPi9wIPVVhCitznIXp15jC7QwazZgKWpBPJXIXfwMtzUlKDdSKSqB4Bz469mYW-wNCxpdHuA05eETuQ9P0se0YSvRyyZmnZ1a/s2048/IMG-0202.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83HwSGU6FvXv2r_hq9zRcnuSF2-AwIBiv5Ia_Y9E9Lj3GPi9wIPVVhCitznIXp15jC7QwazZgKWpBPJXIXfwMtzUlKDdSKSqB4Bz469mYW-wNCxpdHuA05eETuQ9P0se0YSvRyyZmnZ1a/w225-h400/IMG-0202.PNG" width="225" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /> That's the round-up. We miss him like crazy- can't wait to hear the summary of his first week, first-hand. Sooooo glad for the weekly phone calls. :)</span></span><br /><p></p>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-38524124298097413332020-11-10T13:26:00.001-07:002020-11-10T13:28:52.312-07:00The Adventures of Wildabeast: The Drop-Off.<p> </p><div class="ii gt" id=":nn"><div class="a3s aiL" id=":nm"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfQxD8et424xN2togDTCOJeg_BW58UnFAaNYKhVjrkbaXFVqqc9xHqd2p75iWD-W-XU6lD61QFe2pbdNJVAfrpU2tAAbbEBFbaS7Vw8j7UUWt9CnbFwObGxP3ZSs4QS3mG1WeqkHs2KYg/s2048/IMG-0176.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfQxD8et424xN2togDTCOJeg_BW58UnFAaNYKhVjrkbaXFVqqc9xHqd2p75iWD-W-XU6lD61QFe2pbdNJVAfrpU2tAAbbEBFbaS7Vw8j7UUWt9CnbFwObGxP3ZSs4QS3mG1WeqkHs2KYg/s320/IMG-0176.PNG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The unbelievably gifted, David Osmond...<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Close
to the beginning of MTC- Will told me he had gone to Noodles and Co.
during the summer with his friend and she said to him- Look, there’s
David Osmond.” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was appalled that he had never told me about that experience, knowing how much I love David. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">So 3 or 4 times a week for 5 weeks he would say,</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Mom, guess who I saw at Noodles and Company?” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">It became our running joke.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">So
this morning, as he and Michael were in the checkin line- Michael
texted me this: </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Will says guess who is standing in line in front of
us?” </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I knew immediately.<img alt="😁" class="CToWUd" data-goomoji="1f601" data-image-whitelisted="" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/e/1f601" style="margin: 0px 0.2ex; max-height: 24px; vertical-align: middle;" /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Coincidence? </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Most definitely. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Tender mercy though? </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Absolutely!</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>You might be happy to know that there were no tears at the airport.</i></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>But there were quite a few when I got home to this empty chair... <br /></i></span></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i></div><div class="adL" style="text-align: center;">
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My friend's son opened his in chemistry class and texted her the news. Yikes.</p><p>Will wanted a little more than that. </p><p>We gathered- some via Zoom and some in person. </p><p>It is really a strange moment. And actually pretty vulnerable.</p><p>He was so worried that he would be disappointed in his call- even though he knew that shouldn't be a thing. </p><p>Wherever it was to, he just wanted to feel it. Feel God telling him <i>it</i> was truly <i>for</i> him. </p><p>Vanuatu, Port Vila Mission- we had to look it up.</p><p>Never heard of it. But we felt it.</p><p>Will felt it deeply. Relief and happiness.</p><p>And now, he is temporarily going to Tucson. That assignment came less dramatically and I was worried. One week in the MTC and another big change. A disappointing one. I worried all day about how he would take it. But he didn't even flinch.</p><p>Though he didn't know it then, but what he felt on that day way back when, was God affirming his call to <i>serve</i>. Period. <i>Wherever</i>.</p><p>So Tucson tomorrow and Vanuatu some day. </p><p>All is well. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOAjq8O2-zS-xhoPcYPXMe8XUwQ4ZwcJ3RPan2CuSvGE3F99-YvtUpzTHG1_uSW8sHEWowaND49Dmb8YNhGYrK9dn9JbsuV4H47KiFfq-I9FkoODyOTqHz0d3zLG40o8ln1KRbAaIfTyO5/s2048/IMG-3823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOAjq8O2-zS-xhoPcYPXMe8XUwQ4ZwcJ3RPan2CuSvGE3F99-YvtUpzTHG1_uSW8sHEWowaND49Dmb8YNhGYrK9dn9JbsuV4H47KiFfq-I9FkoODyOTqHz0d3zLG40o8ln1KRbAaIfTyO5/w300-h400/IMG-3823.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDpQmCnlcJHCmiYAHg8Y-gTSyeuG8GzlSb5OJFXPJDVwqRdRnYvIjv_eQrW0HWB2h3ETYxDbLML82A5KEYlxV3F9On1ADlIlWJsD0ushIHeMG8E2rqt5NepiH3X1OK6tCco_Xc266qg1b3/s2048/IMG-0924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDpQmCnlcJHCmiYAHg8Y-gTSyeuG8GzlSb5OJFXPJDVwqRdRnYvIjv_eQrW0HWB2h3ETYxDbLML82A5KEYlxV3F9On1ADlIlWJsD0ushIHeMG8E2rqt5NepiH3X1OK6tCco_Xc266qg1b3/w225-h400/IMG-0924.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_BmvHgueufy0DzIxFpXajvUNYsrGfvxUn1JDhyvio_6yBYnqpdwz2kbQIPJgU9oQB2uiVCYkkcAHHwgNlpfuIO-oUcan2Ea4H9XN_WarLRYNHFlUNLLe22MBgG7vpNs1Ue1jS04N3XS-a/s2048/IMG-3828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_BmvHgueufy0DzIxFpXajvUNYsrGfvxUn1JDhyvio_6yBYnqpdwz2kbQIPJgU9oQB2uiVCYkkcAHHwgNlpfuIO-oUcan2Ea4H9XN_WarLRYNHFlUNLLe22MBgG7vpNs1Ue1jS04N3XS-a/w300-h400/IMG-3828.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NK1rlqiS9BaKVMwr0wf49sjo4migAOMECIpyzfkZORXewcotTsWamLSo0_2ZqCIcoX-PejrzbF8YkskqR69XDFVCum1wgFSBnwKySmdWN_lzIm4gLB3FrKphDrZmHSvLm3jgCfEdHxwy/s2048/IMG-3838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NK1rlqiS9BaKVMwr0wf49sjo4migAOMECIpyzfkZORXewcotTsWamLSo0_2ZqCIcoX-PejrzbF8YkskqR69XDFVCum1wgFSBnwKySmdWN_lzIm4gLB3FrKphDrZmHSvLm3jgCfEdHxwy/w300-h400/IMG-3838.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-5082676749107973902020-11-05T09:56:00.001-07:002020-11-05T09:58:33.856-07:00The Adventures of Wildabeast: Things Eternal.<p>I attended the temple for the last time this year the day after my dad died.</p><p>As I sat in the Celestial room I thought about all things Eternal.</p><p> I remember thinking to myself, "I believe it. I believe it all-Creation, Jesus, Eternity, everything. </p><p>And I just sat in that Peace for a good, long time.</p><p>Six weeks later when my mom died, the temple was closed. </p><p>And still yet, I sat in that Peace- the peace of Creation, Jesus, Eternity, everything. </p><p>Seven <i>long</i> months later that Peace is a little bit stretched.</p><p>Every once in awhile on Tuesday morning, when that peace felt like it was about to snap, I would shower and dress in my Sunday best, gather my scriptures and head to the temple. I almost believed I would go inside but really, I sat in it's parking lot and read and poured out my heart. Somehow, just reentering my beloved Tuesday temple routine was healing. </p><p>All this to say when Will received a temple date to be endowed, I am pretty sure I was more happy for me than him. I prayed really hard for weeks that I would not fall apart when we walked in the door. I warned him over and over again that I might be a mess- but it would be a good mess and not to worry. </p><p>I will never be able to put into words how amazing that experience was. For him. For me. </p><p>But these words come to mind: "I believe it all- Creation, Jesus, Eternity, everything". </p><p>Soooo happy I got to share that with my son. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlO6BGXMqG3RVyMNifCrSCOV3mslrhitosC9QNFjM__fT6WgRsCUGV841J_kdb7rCPWHbiGkLjTf3zZs46lYHjeSnYwBJ71Z0tKigXBDKsIvAFN4VDHoGpgvFMm6mi7NWJTdFoSJO_QwIS/s2048/IMG-0017.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlO6BGXMqG3RVyMNifCrSCOV3mslrhitosC9QNFjM__fT6WgRsCUGV841J_kdb7rCPWHbiGkLjTf3zZs46lYHjeSnYwBJ71Z0tKigXBDKsIvAFN4VDHoGpgvFMm6mi7NWJTdFoSJO_QwIS/w480-h640/IMG-0017.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-17824630875990807182020-11-04T19:16:00.001-07:002020-11-05T08:39:32.350-07:00The Adventures of Wildabeast: Vanuatu bound with a detour in Tucson.<div class="separator"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxwtFyNShP2LCC-_NiclqsFRbe6rksxjvsEMlW4Mk2OuW_nO5DRNyibjhuywo3mkTJQDoJaLhx8gslxKVIiDr7fiDZ91zkXO7W2LzqDgaVH1WXPcNNivOEDTcMjl1V6SFirYNPxrpLpCt/s4032/IMG-1934.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxwtFyNShP2LCC-_NiclqsFRbe6rksxjvsEMlW4Mk2OuW_nO5DRNyibjhuywo3mkTJQDoJaLhx8gslxKVIiDr7fiDZ91zkXO7W2LzqDgaVH1WXPcNNivOEDTcMjl1V6SFirYNPxrpLpCt/w530-h640/IMG-1934.jpg" width="530" /></a></div><p><br /><br />
Five weeks ago, this kid, this <b><i>youngest</i></b> kid of mine, was set apart to be a missionary. </p><p>Honest to goodness. </p><p>And in just one week, he will leave the nest. </p><p>There are lots of emotions wrapped up in that but for now, we will just pretend it's all going to be great. </p><p>Before all of that happens, here is a recap of Home MTC:</p><p>It might be only a mom and dad who have noticed-but he has changed. So much. It is miraculous to see a kid who HATED anything to do with Zoom, LOVE his classes, his district, his companion, and the gospel <b><i>over Zoom</i></b>. God is working miracles for sure.</p><p>It's sad that he has missed some opportunities that could have been had only in the Provo MTC but what wasn't missed? Having to drop him off at the curb while he was still reeling from the goodbyes. It has been awesome to talk him through the hard parts of leaving friends and his other life- we have had lots of heart to hearts. </p><p>We have walked together every morning for 5 weeks- wouldn't change that for anything. </p><p>We recap his day and pray together every night-wouldn't change that either.</p><p>We've played LOTS of games together as a family, still have family dinners on Sundays, and even spent a P-Day at Lagoon (not sure if that was super legal but none the less...).</p><p>Home MTC has been a different kind of wonderful. We have loved every minute.<br /></p><p>Yep, I know that a different curbside drop-off is unavoidable and it's coming up fast. </p><p>But now, I have seen him grow up a whole lot these past 5 weeks.</p><p> I can feel a little more confident sending him out into that missionary world because I have seen for myself- that he prays a little harder and a little deeper, and knows what it feels like be comforted by the Spirit. </p><p>Love him.</p><p>Pray for me. :/</p><p>Oh yeah, and for him too. ;)</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6SVdrkGxkiKtRF36_yaIfcKi3MMZYhMijcgda2ELnzZE4AqIYFXO7gbIevQE0q7EuVdGvtGa25k3G3GSWHOiORoXjqps0QgFbItp79WJua3Oo_nvRCio8lsYOqT_lOnjOG0buIAmrsHK/s2048/IMG-1783.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6SVdrkGxkiKtRF36_yaIfcKi3MMZYhMijcgda2ELnzZE4AqIYFXO7gbIevQE0q7EuVdGvtGa25k3G3GSWHOiORoXjqps0QgFbItp79WJua3Oo_nvRCio8lsYOqT_lOnjOG0buIAmrsHK/w640-h480/IMG-1783.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><br /><br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-454289933341699142019-05-14T23:31:00.000-06:002019-05-14T23:31:08.593-06:00Junior Prom<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hey, life has been a little too serious lately. Let's break it up with some Prom happiness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This kid was born for this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He loves every part of Prom planning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For real, he was a master at it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The part that wasn't so amazing was asking his </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">mom to be the photographer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh well.</span></div>
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<br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-39923446603707692922019-03-21T23:26:00.000-06:002019-03-21T23:26:14.002-06:00Holy. Last Sunday night I dropped my dad off at his "new place" for the final time that week.<br />
That place was my sister Alicia's home- a temporary landing until he and my mom can move to Utah. After a week-long visit of being joined at the hip with the man who has been my hero for 50 plus years, it was hard.<br />
We sat in the car for a little while, as we had done all week, while he finished telling me a story from his childhood.<br />
A story I had heard a million times as a little girl while he tucked us in to bed.<br />
I loved hearing it one more time.<br />
I loved his incredulous reaction when I filled in some details that he didn't know I knew.<br />
I loved his emotion as he told me his mother was an angel from heaven.<br />
And I loved when he wondered out loud what he would do without me when I left.<br />
<br />
And that is the question I have been asking ever since <i>h</i>e began to leave.<br />
Alzheimer's is taking him and it's the worst.<br />
<br />
But this past week, I tried to pretend it was the best.<br />
Spending every waking moment with him felt like a gift.<br />
He knew me, called me by name often, and told me he loved me over and over.<br />
We spent alot of time in the memories he <i>can</i> remember-<br />
and struggled through the daily ones that he just can't.<br />
We laughed, we cried.<br />
It <i>was</i> the best.<br />
<br />
And so I dropped him off for the last time that week and wondered what the next time would be like.<br />
And I cried my way home because I am the luckiest, most blessed daughter.<br />
As always, time with him leaves me changed for the better.<br />
<br />
I love you, Dad.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktAbAbV7Mz_UCINdWAmWXmZ9bZyGZFtMd4S-1RLY7t6YH68sW4b_hi-xeC2tL6NY5x2oCzJs2fsn47Q9ng0IHPkR4-fR7qpmSVm78-WRZZArbtYrQ_iUEbGqbTwe5cDSNro7rhM0OzFm5/s1600/Larry%252C+Joan%252C+Janis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktAbAbV7Mz_UCINdWAmWXmZ9bZyGZFtMd4S-1RLY7t6YH68sW4b_hi-xeC2tL6NY5x2oCzJs2fsn47Q9ng0IHPkR4-fR7qpmSVm78-WRZZArbtYrQ_iUEbGqbTwe5cDSNro7rhM0OzFm5/s640/Larry%252C+Joan%252C+Janis.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dad with his two sisters: Joan (the bride), and Janis.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCoOIxhnf3Z__0tS6RJki0-PiaUZQ9xciD9LhSXZSHQeVxKCA1w3jtnqscz1WSux2ikiMBVJv4eT7puY3ItvJaJzH-cT_sFINzIigzEQo4HOBCnVeZsT2JuRfvYx4BmT_ldK-9lHZzC7I/s1600/Larry+and+Pres.+Kimball.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCoOIxhnf3Z__0tS6RJki0-PiaUZQ9xciD9LhSXZSHQeVxKCA1w3jtnqscz1WSux2ikiMBVJv4eT7puY3ItvJaJzH-cT_sFINzIigzEQo4HOBCnVeZsT2JuRfvYx4BmT_ldK-9lHZzC7I/s640/Larry+and+Pres.+Kimball.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With President Kimball</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakFSrW96ARwdo6iSJWKesl1Fo0_5CFNpTe5pT7Cue3cjqVFAFL1CuyVbWLVP9vwZZgRKOmWIPOibPgLjgqPgUZdf4hJxvbXQhS3sUj6fRTvlXIeXi4dmxCEkuwGoq-TKJ3dxEwZsJcVaP/s1600/Larry+and+Drue.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakFSrW96ARwdo6iSJWKesl1Fo0_5CFNpTe5pT7Cue3cjqVFAFL1CuyVbWLVP9vwZZgRKOmWIPOibPgLjgqPgUZdf4hJxvbXQhS3sUj6fRTvlXIeXi4dmxCEkuwGoq-TKJ3dxEwZsJcVaP/s640/Larry+and+Drue.PNG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my INCREDIBLE mom and their favorite past time.</td></tr>
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<br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-88812715762296555442018-09-24T21:40:00.002-06:002018-09-24T21:42:29.226-06:00Homecoming 2018<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">What are you going to do when your last child does <b><i>this</i></b> to you? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Not sure how this happened but-</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> okay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Junior year, here we come. </span></div>
Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-42651338719847023852018-01-29T11:22:00.000-07:002019-03-21T23:27:07.269-06:002017 In A Playlist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-F4eCAECUda6m8EEulOwE1dZGcCB9wikMCZtuNj9oHDf4ju3KYRiVeCx6E0Hx-D3bsCnKOpQtA85Dpx7BpoARirFHqe6zzSm4d1zS_vQNxagcjkIt1e9s9618-tZhMt8Vk-vHX1ugMjX/s1600/Braver.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-F4eCAECUda6m8EEulOwE1dZGcCB9wikMCZtuNj9oHDf4ju3KYRiVeCx6E0Hx-D3bsCnKOpQtA85Dpx7BpoARirFHqe6zzSm4d1zS_vQNxagcjkIt1e9s9618-tZhMt8Vk-vHX1ugMjX/s320/Braver.PNG" width="180" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Spotify just let me know that this was my most played song last year.<br />
Not surprised at all.</div>
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And I could make a good case for it becoming this year's too.<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned that life is hard?<br />
At the fireside I went to last night one of the speakers said something like this:<br />
<i>We are trained to think that all questions should have answers, </i><br />
<i>that there should always be a happy ending. </i><br />
<i>But the truth is, mortality is messy- and life is hard, </i><br />
<i>and for some complicated issues,</i><br />
<i> there are no "clean" answers.</i><br />
That resonated with me.<br />
My life <b>is</b> messy.<br />
But I am learning to embrace the mess and in the process, <i>God is embracing me</i>.<br />
Mostly, I am learning how to trust Him more.<br />
God is HUGE about trusting Him.<br />
Personally, I wouldn't be able to believe in a God that I understood completely<br />
and all of His ways made sense to me.<br />
That would put Him on my level. How then is He God?<br />
I believe in a God who has all the answers but only gives me some of them right now.<br />
Because with me, He is trying to create someone who leaves this earth better than when I came.<br />
And most importantly, He is trying to create someone who trusts Him and His son.<br />
Completely.<br />
100%.<br />
That just doesn't come without a whole bunch of awesome, terrible, happy, painful, joyful, and spiritually stretching experiences.<br />
And stretching is scary.<br />
Thus my most played Spotify song:<br />
<br />
<i>When it gets hard, I get a little braver now, I get a little stronger now.</i><br />
<i>And when it gets dark, I get a little brighter now, I get a little wiser now... </i><br />
<i><br /></i> Yep, braver, stronger, brighter, and wiser.<br />
I'll take all of those.<br />
Here's to a braver, stronger, brighter and wiser 2018.<br />
<br />
<i></i>
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Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-18277403309435449212017-09-24T22:52:00.000-06:002017-09-24T22:52:47.071-06:00A Week In the Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrEAOibus1E9E-katfUOmMct6ROgXAzbR1QPf0dhCTipDG4YjO-1J1zJ1qPggYAb-3TI7Zlva2BU0DJmTx8wMKfJsxQihWjpVnlAevxOZusKHpQCVmPGzUzcZuoYRMqb5PieRRENtyOgWp/s1600/Janis+carport.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrEAOibus1E9E-katfUOmMct6ROgXAzbR1QPf0dhCTipDG4YjO-1J1zJ1qPggYAb-3TI7Zlva2BU0DJmTx8wMKfJsxQihWjpVnlAevxOZusKHpQCVmPGzUzcZuoYRMqb5PieRRENtyOgWp/s640/Janis+carport.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Drove by Janis' old apartment and it looked like this. After spending all summer emptying her house in Payson, I knew she would be proud of this kindred spirit inhabiting her old space. </span></div>
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i</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Said goodbye to Nephi (sniff).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Enough said, right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm pathetic.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48LnUM833p7lKep7budqFKCOE0mignfiAf42_kodyB0mN0MlWdIG0MbwUkgxquifhhk6K3WsWjLj7PaZvRhl5fszlvyg_-cGNJXccVJSLSlipi95zjSXyTic3IM2Qwj58npWyNogosfwA/s1600/Cookie+dough+cake.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48LnUM833p7lKep7budqFKCOE0mignfiAf42_kodyB0mN0MlWdIG0MbwUkgxquifhhk6K3WsWjLj7PaZvRhl5fszlvyg_-cGNJXccVJSLSlipi95zjSXyTic3IM2Qwj58npWyNogosfwA/s640/Cookie+dough+cake.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Made a cookie dough birthday cake for my niece.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm shallow enough to take a picture of the cake and not of her. Yikes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Imagine a thick spread of cookie dough in between the layers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's why you lost out Alissa. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cookie dough always wins.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And speaking of shallow, I spent the night at a highly controversial city council meeting just trying to figure out if the Provo City Attorney, was the same Brian Jones </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">that was my huge pre-pubescent crush.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In Atlanta, Georgia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was 12.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It could be him.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7MAZ1iAvzxyvXwkvt34cHfP0jSSbIet7TDbQuB6ib5W6IP4vIn0hVdzAjCZNIkw3kKM71usP8jEbOnhnmgyayGrEL_Zqimdk5ctX7zsn5H194HFVRMowMSldYwVq3isrFycrEaqbKglsY/s1600/Leo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7MAZ1iAvzxyvXwkvt34cHfP0jSSbIet7TDbQuB6ib5W6IP4vIn0hVdzAjCZNIkw3kKM71usP8jEbOnhnmgyayGrEL_Zqimdk5ctX7zsn5H194HFVRMowMSldYwVq3isrFycrEaqbKglsY/s640/Leo.jpg" width="358" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Spent a good portion of each day </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">drooling over pictures of my nephew, Leo.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Born in the middle of the solar eclipse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Going to see him this week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hello, Atlanta.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwsRk3iTR1M0uqkmuAcki6g9NhoSK21qNKer4GtXeYSWozbXiNc1TeiDFZGmvFCKPhc0TupY0meEtlaL6re5nYrdiX-leAXjKh9BVZU43ZAh7NBSedZWzJvPZoUMIFe9egxCJAiO2N-RB/s1600/Class+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwsRk3iTR1M0uqkmuAcki6g9NhoSK21qNKer4GtXeYSWozbXiNc1TeiDFZGmvFCKPhc0TupY0meEtlaL6re5nYrdiX-leAXjKh9BVZU43ZAh7NBSedZWzJvPZoUMIFe9egxCJAiO2N-RB/s640/Class+pic.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And Holy Heaven, my classes are back in full swing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Could not be more happy about that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Onward and upward. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Shabbat Shalom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-68567660224642795722017-09-14T16:35:00.000-06:002017-09-14T16:35:14.487-06:00Five Things.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQpfDd6TAZOX5-J7Socz09DzNq87aZlMdunL27lGEUw6Y19Sm4KGylouIC-0JZ9f5abfs6OGKHSLAEjofHF8nzUZTrwmd9digyjzDY3NcE__c4PgCZ87kuQ83_vUswvyPzihyphenhyphenSfsHyxBw/s1600/dad.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQpfDd6TAZOX5-J7Socz09DzNq87aZlMdunL27lGEUw6Y19Sm4KGylouIC-0JZ9f5abfs6OGKHSLAEjofHF8nzUZTrwmd9digyjzDY3NcE__c4PgCZ87kuQ83_vUswvyPzihyphenhyphenSfsHyxBw/s640/dad.PNG" width="360" /></a></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was driving when I heard the news that Glen Campbell died.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I cried.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Glen Campbell was part of the soundtrack to my childhood--my dad loved him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My dad.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I cannot put into words how much I love him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I came into this world a little bit crazy maybe.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My sisters used to call me "moody" and my parents kindly referred to me as "dramatic."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm both.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But both of those things are part of a package deal that makes me who I am.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And who I am is someone who feels things deeply.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It's good and it's bad but it is what draws me close to Heaven--I long for the things of the spirit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My dad has always understood this about me and we have had countless conversations about things eternal.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He is struggling a bit and it's hard. Hard on him and hard on us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As he is beginning to forget, I am doing lots of remembering.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Five things I never want to forget about my dad. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>1) </b>He modeled for me what my Heavenly Father is like. I have never been afraid to approach God because I knew Him to be loving, kind, and forgiving. I learned that from my dad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2) </b>He is the hardest working man I know. Every minute of every day. He taught us all to be hard workers and to do our best and to dream. He is a dreamer that put his dreams on the ground. He wasn't afraid to fail. And he failed a bit. But he also succeeded big. Grandpa's Ice Cream Shop is the cherry on top of those dreams...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>3)</b> He loves God. He LOVES God. There is nothing he wouldn't do if God required it of him. His life has been living proof of that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>4) </b>He has been the answer to many of my prayers.<b> </b>One Sunday in college I fasted for relief of the pain I was experiencing from a broken heart. A few moments before my fast was over, and I had felt no consolation, he called me. As we talked he shared exactly what I needed to hear, and what I needed to do. It was the beginning of the healing for me. I will never forget that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> 5)</b> He deepened my love for the temple. As he and my mother served over the years, their love spilled over and inspired me to be more meaningful and dedicated in my temple worship. So grateful for our long conversations about the temple. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Those are just five things. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There is so much more. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Love you Dad.</span>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-62539180032815414852017-08-06T00:17:00.001-06:002017-08-06T10:02:15.245-06:00The Holy Place of Certainty.<br />
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<a href="https://www.lds.org/youth/bc/youth/article/facing-the-storms-of-life/images/Storms-of-Life-517x268-2012-06-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="268" data-original-width="517" height="330" src="https://www.lds.org/youth/bc/youth/article/facing-the-storms-of-life/images/Storms-of-Life-517x268-2012-06-01.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A few months ago,<a href="http://trilbynottrouble.blogspot.com/"> a friend</a> gave a beautiful talk in sacrament meeting titled : <i>The Holy Place Uncertainty. </i><br />
The concept was something I had never thought about in that way before, but it hit me hard.<br />
The idea was that in our places of uncertainty we have the opportunity to become the most holy.<br />
The times when we don't know for sure where God is.<br />
When it feels like He has stepped back.<br />
When it feels like we just don't have the strength to take on one more heartache. <br />
Those times when our faith takes some hard hits--yet we hang on.<br />
We keep praying, we keep trusting, we just keep moving forward.<br />
Those are the times that eventually, God writes upon our hearts who we truly are.<br />
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However, the other night as I was walking into the temple, the spirit whispered: "This is a holy place of <i>certainty</i>."<br />
It is the place that shows me the end from the beginning-- it shows me who I am in no uncertain terms.<br />
Time and time again as I grapple with the uncertainty of my current struggles,<br />
I am reminded in the temple of the <i><b>sure</b></i> promises of Heavenly Father.<br />
That my covenants bind me <i>and </i>my family to Him.<br />
Because<b> He is a God of certainty.</b><br />
But He knows there is great strength and power in uncertainty, when you turn your heart and faith over to Him anyway --<br />
Faith- it's the first principle of the gospel for a reason.<br />
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I am reminded of my religion teacher's mantra for when he doesn't have the answer to a hard question or struggle:<br />
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"I don't know.<br />
But I know God knows.<br />
And that's all I need to know."<br />
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Yes. <br />
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Shabbat Shalom. <br />
<br />
<br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-80653902767170532862017-07-23T19:50:00.000-06:002017-07-23T19:50:57.673-06:00Turning.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6nPQp1YCb6uhWRfm-d960g1Km74MTOyLjgZawfPei8YMsn_lV3zwCJHFFT29XiJIrl6NAM3tFljovVrShotfXbxSkEsnSeFWLqQSWNpOBUQQhsqB4sqb17GZeWR5PTXjmSsEYxbZzglty/s1600/IMG_4619.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6nPQp1YCb6uhWRfm-d960g1Km74MTOyLjgZawfPei8YMsn_lV3zwCJHFFT29XiJIrl6NAM3tFljovVrShotfXbxSkEsnSeFWLqQSWNpOBUQQhsqB4sqb17GZeWR5PTXjmSsEYxbZzglty/s640/IMG_4619.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May 30th, 2017</td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Having your youngest turn fifteen is not for the faint of heart. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Each birthday has brought me pangs of angst </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">from the time he turned 5. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">His birthdays mark an end to an era.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In a kind of a melodramatic way it's like saying goodbye to each of my children--</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'll never have another 5 year old, 6 year old or 14 year old. <i> </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>See what I mean about dramatic?</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It's not fun.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">However, so far, this boy has welcomed his fifteenth year in a big way.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A high adventure trip to Lake Powell, a Pioneer Trek, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and a stellar week at EFY have occupied June and July. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He has loved it all.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He's becoming a fine young man.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'll take that as a consolation prize for the trampling of my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Drama queen. Sorry. :)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Happy late birthday Will.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Love you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-75827675845265541962017-07-09T19:16:00.000-06:002017-07-09T19:18:20.601-06:00Independence is Not for the Weak.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once upon a time about 4 years ago, we decided to pretend that the epic parade held in Provo each 4th of July, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">was NOT too stressful to go to, after avoiding it for years and years. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The main stressor is that 24 hours before the parade starts,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> people start camping out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That is enough to keep anyone away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We didn't want to take it that seriously, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">so we learned that if we just set our sights on the last leg of the route, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">we could get up a little early the morning of, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and find a decent spot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It works like a charm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even for parking. No stress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so we now love our parade.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And when I say we, I mean me, Will, and Grandma Tomi.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYE5G32yVZe-CzZlNnLeG3FNJLAGf9ech91dwkdABGP01WZfKOYivi2b0dc9Xq0d0AYdmtmTY8VXzP2wgmuxTqPGYRc9PE9LaI-HcO7odE0l8OiDB2J_8hehY6_E5E6Tga1I1_h9HqTTd/s1600/DSC_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirYE5G32yVZe-CzZlNnLeG3FNJLAGf9ech91dwkdABGP01WZfKOYivi2b0dc9Xq0d0AYdmtmTY8VXzP2wgmuxTqPGYRc9PE9LaI-HcO7odE0l8OiDB2J_8hehY6_E5E6Tga1I1_h9HqTTd/s640/DSC_0010.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This year, Grandma Tomi was<i><b> in </b></i>the parade so others made an extra effort to go as well :)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKU_h71-3qbZN2wztbXz4J1wzTcoRbHjAsmhJfv1BQA3JbVIKnFmF_zqszSKIrFpoDftQC75oXIjtEGAumC2Kva4Yavr_q4id4vpcD0z8djp84FV1yxSXMwkKFG_MATxIvkb4kEhIJ1QS/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKU_h71-3qbZN2wztbXz4J1wzTcoRbHjAsmhJfv1BQA3JbVIKnFmF_zqszSKIrFpoDftQC75oXIjtEGAumC2Kva4Yavr_q4id4vpcD0z8djp84FV1yxSXMwkKFG_MATxIvkb4kEhIJ1QS/s640/DSC_0009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> These three decided that they wanted to get up at 5:30 a.m. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">to secure a place for the 9:00 event. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so they did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Therefore, we got a lovely spot with plenty of leg room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the pre-parade festivities, Will won Comic Con tickets by being able to name the next three Marvel movies to come out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Child's play for that boy.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMSufUc4zLOYQHw6Q8Zh_svpP4qBjm1L4qkXl34ajZCyLtZ43ybdmRz03JbVu00dDtE1DoMAi5Rc1eTps98vaeCX6C12nV7mzpyr4czWNhfOK-IHVXSynY6Lu-xY1-Fu0k8zRFGjh4TZi/s1600/DSC_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlMSufUc4zLOYQHw6Q8Zh_svpP4qBjm1L4qkXl34ajZCyLtZ43ybdmRz03JbVu00dDtE1DoMAi5Rc1eTps98vaeCX6C12nV7mzpyr4czWNhfOK-IHVXSynY6Lu-xY1-Fu0k8zRFGjh4TZi/s640/DSC_0012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After others showed up to help save the spot,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> he assumed his usual parade position. :) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Gotta love a good book.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojgy7ZSmq0dW81B41D3Dx0b7X7Y4XPmmhYQAmmC_wK_3Quacnu0tKCkUyhjRUw3CfDIdvl7ETD28Z3Mz4bpdkPJaNU2d62490BukMog6M8HLoMN2AUio14f8uRhPa8iAP6qOtPhO2N7Kc/s1600/DSC_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhojgy7ZSmq0dW81B41D3Dx0b7X7Y4XPmmhYQAmmC_wK_3Quacnu0tKCkUyhjRUw3CfDIdvl7ETD28Z3Mz4bpdkPJaNU2d62490BukMog6M8HLoMN2AUio14f8uRhPa8iAP6qOtPhO2N7Kc/s640/DSC_0013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yup, it's a motley crew.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnx5kdbgTeIDYsmlyjZNqi4LN7AaiceRtpFgFpflpvyNslOM1XUusHdK80ZQFooR71DhXiJspguJHHhpati5bIo3vvIAac5UJ0zU8IZ8RujRzMpjwqmAsk1lRJXhvJjV_sHpu_puH0FV7F/s1600/emily.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1321" data-original-width="1222" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnx5kdbgTeIDYsmlyjZNqi4LN7AaiceRtpFgFpflpvyNslOM1XUusHdK80ZQFooR71DhXiJspguJHHhpati5bIo3vvIAac5UJ0zU8IZ8RujRzMpjwqmAsk1lRJXhvJjV_sHpu_puH0FV7F/s400/emily.jpg" width="370" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A new fun element added to this 4th of July, was celebrating with a Brit....Michaela's friend Emily came across the pond just in time to see what goes on as we commemorate our independence from her home country. <i>She had no idea.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i>And then, I turned the camera over to Will.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After deleting a lot of pictures of garbage cans, people's ears,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> and other random things that a 15-year old would find interesting, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">it left me with about 4 shots. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0f3n6Vu8VFCeV3O2Cfxk-CDiRV2xXwaKwxvpdisuIcVi0kPcwt2DgWYDIkLYOLY09dM_l9QihZjZyJHCEXVI6hgfc39CyQYzh3QvlDhK6_Q3cRks_nJMAbPQoejxJXKK29hmm0bBfp1O/s1600/DSC_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0f3n6Vu8VFCeV3O2Cfxk-CDiRV2xXwaKwxvpdisuIcVi0kPcwt2DgWYDIkLYOLY09dM_l9QihZjZyJHCEXVI6hgfc39CyQYzh3QvlDhK6_Q3cRks_nJMAbPQoejxJXKK29hmm0bBfp1O/s640/DSC_0027.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsKhy7OrxcINDnnGnKmrPUhXIt3z5xk2lNHehCIwXABEIX5z5jQAdKFb6d5wzvbyDFCG4YMmzpB3hu88LymQ2gSAeadsud4q6OX7U7FD_Z858HGKVYwU3cC47gAy_uTyQqq5PiAv-Bu41/s1600/DSC_0031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidsKhy7OrxcINDnnGnKmrPUhXIt3z5xk2lNHehCIwXABEIX5z5jQAdKFb6d5wzvbyDFCG4YMmzpB3hu88LymQ2gSAeadsud4q6OX7U7FD_Z858HGKVYwU3cC47gAy_uTyQqq5PiAv-Bu41/s640/DSC_0031.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJJiut5GLnLddHIdWpkM3nlXtrOJ1j_aK5_lubh7KHKKNij-7jno4xTUkcUFqEQhsh6SZq2EQA8bKmiNuZeDFJKPgVOUMRHEePA6oNP89Zzc174W5Ci3Dn6Zd9QY-SjQ63br-Q4UM-XGf/s1600/DSC_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJJiut5GLnLddHIdWpkM3nlXtrOJ1j_aK5_lubh7KHKKNij-7jno4xTUkcUFqEQhsh6SZq2EQA8bKmiNuZeDFJKPgVOUMRHEePA6oNP89Zzc174W5Ci3Dn6Zd9QY-SjQ63br-Q4UM-XGf/s640/DSC_0033.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaJfP2pIF8mLm0Bxfi97jk66Fw7yq3ViDIJhvS88Pfu20usFzXDoxY6C-omOaLwuuKwYk54XHvh1BIUIMaagR5Q8kue5QvvGsAHTn5vNNNFShyphenhyphenm4esJ-FnUDJWeQ7Zd5j8KUsF92gSH6z/s1600/DSC_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaJfP2pIF8mLm0Bxfi97jk66Fw7yq3ViDIJhvS88Pfu20usFzXDoxY6C-omOaLwuuKwYk54XHvh1BIUIMaagR5Q8kue5QvvGsAHTn5vNNNFShyphenhyphenm4esJ-FnUDJWeQ7Zd5j8KUsF92gSH6z/s640/DSC_0025.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i> <span style="font-size: large;">Lots and lots of horse pictures.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Luckily, we managed to capture the main event.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_T5L4kD4W3nbYPU5fnHJgLa6WUPUhl1W3eQp4xmcg7G2Yk0pZTLqjQKpzfArB5HZQ0h5KcATUndNoYyor6y4f6yvUEyahAYTQHyKD8H_FdII-rdh5ogSLyWhfxZCPMFtiiQCpY7agIr14/s1600/DSC_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_T5L4kD4W3nbYPU5fnHJgLa6WUPUhl1W3eQp4xmcg7G2Yk0pZTLqjQKpzfArB5HZQ0h5KcATUndNoYyor6y4f6yvUEyahAYTQHyKD8H_FdII-rdh5ogSLyWhfxZCPMFtiiQCpY7agIr14/s640/DSC_0035.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i> Grandma Tomi walked the entire parade route with the </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Provo and Orem missionaries in the 90 degree heat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She was awesome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And let me tell you, Provo loves its missionaries. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They ignited the most spirited applause. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's such a great sight!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think Grandma Tomi has still not recovered completely but to say it was a highlight for her is an understatement.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58WDkiLxLUyQ8o3gQVxmkNZMPvP2Nw3J1VqkNPC7QB46fSLJUpaZdz0AfUcgj28F3z8DoUXC8dvaYaNxiEhXcXTPnhP9g2kaurhRUWSNttIAgZAF0ee5TXDKILvk7F_n2o7_nGKsIUUgm/s1600/DSC_0099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58WDkiLxLUyQ8o3gQVxmkNZMPvP2Nw3J1VqkNPC7QB46fSLJUpaZdz0AfUcgj28F3z8DoUXC8dvaYaNxiEhXcXTPnhP9g2kaurhRUWSNttIAgZAF0ee5TXDKILvk7F_n2o7_nGKsIUUgm/s640/DSC_0099.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We finished the day off with an epic fireworks show at Angie's.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our supply turned out to be meager compared to all of her neighbor's combined efforts, so we lit ours, and then sat back and watched with amazement everything going off around us. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1uaEe1zgh1iOpSppYhxaLG5CT4LqxQ_k_745hquR-gJG2CsQIp5NxtTUlA8M6MZKKA-8CPuFH2zTmVFCXUVaBBzrjnDvJC8iULKEMBlg8t2dhyphenhyphenSuWrFzOCmEV8j77Y77FLJtw-bH5Eh5/s1600/DSC_0106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1uaEe1zgh1iOpSppYhxaLG5CT4LqxQ_k_745hquR-gJG2CsQIp5NxtTUlA8M6MZKKA-8CPuFH2zTmVFCXUVaBBzrjnDvJC8iULKEMBlg8t2dhyphenhyphenSuWrFzOCmEV8j77Y77FLJtw-bH5Eh5/s640/DSC_0106.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Truly awesome.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLq-JV4MkdSNkTjE8AlOE80XaaPZIg31mo7Gur3DHmOMv1Zrzx5INyxgJ7DOT6tktfvUxPzdnrqBpusxBpSJ49VKHAFqEEQ0yV5MMD8BYERbeDMFE5ut5w0d8mb8mT5FKM5fK2GvK-Uzpv/s1600/DSC_0042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLq-JV4MkdSNkTjE8AlOE80XaaPZIg31mo7Gur3DHmOMv1Zrzx5INyxgJ7DOT6tktfvUxPzdnrqBpusxBpSJ49VKHAFqEEQ0yV5MMD8BYERbeDMFE5ut5w0d8mb8mT5FKM5fK2GvK-Uzpv/s640/DSC_0042.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And Emily, bless her heart, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">got to light her very first Sparkler ever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Independence Day.</span></div>
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Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-73900124030267391492017-06-30T18:59:00.001-06:002017-06-30T18:59:56.936-06:00It's Complicated.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQA44dQzvCwlJ3GrBNmrMGEMQ5oblTaeoIRaJtWe8gBAEsyaX5WOcqwwN1xrScInf9JVVgf3mhfuNCauMO5K33J_-_lQ_qxiVOq1pSeOR8hnr2hZXPFEfy_QgVCXrLPyxvAmYAaEVR8A/s1600/08-preserving-the-book-of-mormon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQA44dQzvCwlJ3GrBNmrMGEMQ5oblTaeoIRaJtWe8gBAEsyaX5WOcqwwN1xrScInf9JVVgf3mhfuNCauMO5K33J_-_lQ_qxiVOq1pSeOR8hnr2hZXPFEfy_QgVCXrLPyxvAmYAaEVR8A/s1600/08-preserving-the-book-of-mormon.jpg" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="875" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Goodbyes have never really been a problem for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I moved a bit when I was growing up so maybe that made it easier-</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But without fail, there is one goodbye that is always hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When I get to Moroni, the last book in the Book of Mormon, I struggle.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I stall. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I read it very slowly, maybe even just a few verses a day. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I just don't want to let it go.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Kind of dumb because I'm just going to flip back to the beginning and start again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn't matter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Each Book of Mormon read-through creates a new history, new answers, and new revelation. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I own and love every bit of it and I just want to hang on. <i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I'm tearing up just thinking about it</i>. <i>Seriously!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But sometime this next week I will push through those last chapters and I will mourn just a little bit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then -- I will fall in love with Nephi once again--<i>so to speak</i>--and the cycle will continue.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm kind of an idiot but I'm okay with that. :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Wish me luck.</span><br />
<br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-64183448548175352232017-06-29T23:14:00.000-06:002017-06-29T23:16:35.825-06:00Texas-the Second Largest State in the Union.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1d9e4WcJuoW6V_HP-NK7e_vChxuqQJU3FtPnr0CkmpOHAY9QRJGdkwzh2t0EplOIAiqLMOQsUoJkmuySp1wTyxxgYEY-9APqbVunwiUuVnhVZLWS8uNeAIuMMvZud_avYEpl2dW8QXs44/s1600/IMG_4296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1d9e4WcJuoW6V_HP-NK7e_vChxuqQJU3FtPnr0CkmpOHAY9QRJGdkwzh2t0EplOIAiqLMOQsUoJkmuySp1wTyxxgYEY-9APqbVunwiUuVnhVZLWS8uNeAIuMMvZud_avYEpl2dW8QXs44/s640/IMG_4296.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Okay, seriously, it is hard </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">not to be impressed with the great state of Texas. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">And it seems mighty wrong to not include </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">"the great state of" when referring to Texas. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">It's HUGE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">For spring break, we spent a solid 7days there </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">and loved every second of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">All of us. Even the teenagers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Right???</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can say with absolute certainty that despite all of the cool places we visited, the best part of the trip <i>for all of us</i> was just hanging out with:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfKIiGk2p7snBuiTCFJr7Mys8YQ6jzMJXm9XvTLRyaXlWRj8dlF9nmPIDPdiiEdiul2FOTj8LNVCLGzUrxudhKlbsWltaWMcFoVSMmXv8lo1La5rEXc5_yd3inNSH59XdZa95U1g7V7dQ/s1600/IMG_4306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpfKIiGk2p7snBuiTCFJr7Mys8YQ6jzMJXm9XvTLRyaXlWRj8dlF9nmPIDPdiiEdiul2FOTj8LNVCLGzUrxudhKlbsWltaWMcFoVSMmXv8lo1La5rEXc5_yd3inNSH59XdZa95U1g7V7dQ/s640/IMG_4306.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Valentina,</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKd-gSWGSpEUpWg-RcaQqh1MwwXZ54qnVb4IzoYWhCel2Td15msX5nsduaxK2JmYRn1BM37MDdolNlM-F66QdDceQBlWcT5WfEmqdhw_hi6Z2crLOaxvSwfBqNvWvdz8yvO2voefQ5mCYl/s1600/IMG_4462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKd-gSWGSpEUpWg-RcaQqh1MwwXZ54qnVb4IzoYWhCel2Td15msX5nsduaxK2JmYRn1BM37MDdolNlM-F66QdDceQBlWcT5WfEmqdhw_hi6Z2crLOaxvSwfBqNvWvdz8yvO2voefQ5mCYl/s640/IMG_4462.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Audrey,</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrXTyq9xRkiV3tI-p-svgwSSBT48i0ZtHl1G_LggFy3DQxuKBQfffqYQsjBoJ8ECghZFpBV3dWIOWkvcvHWcPY7_4glxCbhfJndQbcQ7WOD1CKMHjHmd4FxnjYPCJTZUGWtL3daOV81j4/s1600/IMG_4503.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrXTyq9xRkiV3tI-p-svgwSSBT48i0ZtHl1G_LggFy3DQxuKBQfffqYQsjBoJ8ECghZFpBV3dWIOWkvcvHWcPY7_4glxCbhfJndQbcQ7WOD1CKMHjHmd4FxnjYPCJTZUGWtL3daOV81j4/s640/IMG_4503.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Little miss Scarlett,</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVYiGZ7738vIH0qY67J-AlooBxw1d1MRMRicqiRrEwfbvgEHFF2vnmZR-_-p4gFh7LQJrO5mVYskA0JFmHB2Vdg9j_wNigPybgQRfkaDEGcP8zXh6h0ylxkCTfcWa8ixZUCZLqjNT9SO-/s1600/IMG_4486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVYiGZ7738vIH0qY67J-AlooBxw1d1MRMRicqiRrEwfbvgEHFF2vnmZR-_-p4gFh7LQJrO5mVYskA0JFmHB2Vdg9j_wNigPybgQRfkaDEGcP8zXh6h0ylxkCTfcWa8ixZUCZLqjNT9SO-/s640/IMG_4486.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and Sabrina. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That just never gets old :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love those girls and their mama too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We manged to squeeze in a Texas sized amount of sight seeing...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyaNZ6p1ckIwrj7hQJ2suCJg4_cXoXH3GNp8AUCjuuAbAcpd88K64-BVy2UHQFEpSBotDszWNG47uzlF7UPvfyEaPd2Nw6x7xr7Mdv_FpMRAOfjHgiSFFoUQO4B3IOkcE9FEyma6lYn7Bg/s1600/IMG_4518.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyaNZ6p1ckIwrj7hQJ2suCJg4_cXoXH3GNp8AUCjuuAbAcpd88K64-BVy2UHQFEpSBotDszWNG47uzlF7UPvfyEaPd2Nw6x7xr7Mdv_FpMRAOfjHgiSFFoUQO4B3IOkcE9FEyma6lYn7Bg/s640/IMG_4518.PNG" width="425" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No one visits the great state anymore without hitting Waco.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Such a great place and Magnolia Market is unbelievable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Super impressive stuff but all I could think was </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"there's a lot of cash being transferred in this place."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A Lot.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeZ_5xhBiLtg4aJANlK_ZcwT5FnxkBXLgp1sduyz1DJ-wmcCFPM6xjeoBA7VCDr00TQAJgP3XOgdgMRdvvShDh0ibnRjJa_A3uupGhUcLVpNK0LnDE8NxZUB2UqY837835sxh0Ev64Rt0/s1600/IMG_4441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeZ_5xhBiLtg4aJANlK_ZcwT5FnxkBXLgp1sduyz1DJ-wmcCFPM6xjeoBA7VCDr00TQAJgP3XOgdgMRdvvShDh0ibnRjJa_A3uupGhUcLVpNK0LnDE8NxZUB2UqY837835sxh0Ev64Rt0/s640/IMG_4441.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And as much as we like the Silos, for me, the best part of Waco is Lula Jane's. I know it's shocking that a bakery would be my favorite place to visit :)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">But look at those cookies on the plate (back left).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They are the best I have ever had.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Everything was delish.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then we had to get<i> </i>the obligatory<i> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>bending over the railroad track</i> picture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks Will. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We spent some time at the Baylor bookstore...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and visited the Space Museum in Houston.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Caught a decent movie, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">but really?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hermione singing?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What were they thinking? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Will bought his first cowboy hat...</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Watched a few movies with this little girl.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She always gets the front row ...</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Seriously the best barbecue I have ever eaten.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They know how to make it melt in your mouth.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> And speaking of food-</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">in Austin we found the best doughnuts EVER.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The menu.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Crazy.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> And also in Austin, we toured the capitol building </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and found this former president. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Remember the good old days? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The hatred for him was just child's play.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The capitol building was stunning. Too bad no pics.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fam went to San Antonio to see the Alamo without me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I stayed at home and had some quality with Lizbeth and a police visit when I accidentally set off the house alarm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Good times. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our final day was spent in Galveston at the beach.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It was awesome. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yep.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Texas love.</span></div>
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<br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-66654391485345208882017-06-25T23:05:00.000-06:002017-06-29T23:26:27.571-06:00Sunday Epiphany at a Mission Homecoming...<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.freechristiancard.com/images/image-526c004d104ae6eb1fa4965393c93d10-LL103M.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.freechristiancard.com/images/image-526c004d104ae6eb1fa4965393c93d10-LL103M.jpg" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="617" height="400" width="327" /></a></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A couple of nights ago, I reread <a href="http://labitfamily.blogspot.com/2017/02/joy.html"> this blog post</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Again I began to think about the promises of joy in my patriarchal blessing. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I pondered my life right now and wondered if anyone on the outside looking in would think that joy and happiness was reigning supreme.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Even I wondered if it was true. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">More importantly, I wondered <i>how</i> it could be true.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Once again I asked Heavenly Father to help me understand. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In her talk today, my newly returned missionary niece read this quote </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2016/10/joy-and-spiritual-survival?lang=eng">from the talk I have read a thousand times:</a></span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">"My dear brothers and sisters, the joy
we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and
everything to do with the focus of our lives.</span></i><br />
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">When
the focus of our lives is on God’s plan of salvation and Jesus Christ and His gospel, we can
feel joy regardless of what is happening—or not happening—in our lives.
Joy comes from and because of Him. He is the source of all joy. We feel
it at Christmastime when we sing, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come.”<a class="note-ref" href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2016/10/joy-and-spiritual-survival?lang=eng#note9"><sup class="marker">9</sup></a> And we can feel it all year round. For Latter-day Saints, Jesus Christ is joy!"</span></i></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;">In that moment, the spirit bore witness in a powerful way that the reason that joy and happiness can be supreme in my life is because I love, follow, worship, and live for Jesus. </span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;">I do. </span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;">It's that simple<i>.</i></span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
</div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;">Once again, it just goes back to this:</span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Jesus first. Period. The end. </i></b></span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;">He is pure joy. </span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<br /></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Meghan for that powerful teaching moment.</span></div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
</div>
<div data-aid="129955718" id="p15">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Shabbat Shalom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-66215465153404765852017-06-24T19:38:00.002-06:002017-06-24T22:05:34.261-06:00Dream Team.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mOQS8XC5FGTVn2HN8Q7Fv8eqzag85_MvoBG2vXTEnRPbbfQpqAnwicvK49m_Ia4ZWM3hrqJ3-b44CcT7zQOPjG7otoWuhTSUTChdgtURnsR9fQyofz16RGn5BR6dArdSPXcUbebpfH9T/s1600/Girls+camp.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mOQS8XC5FGTVn2HN8Q7Fv8eqzag85_MvoBG2vXTEnRPbbfQpqAnwicvK49m_Ia4ZWM3hrqJ3-b44CcT7zQOPjG7otoWuhTSUTChdgtURnsR9fQyofz16RGn5BR6dArdSPXcUbebpfH9T/s640/Girls+camp.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever been thrown together with people you <i>kind of</i> know, but not too well, and then spent 14 hours a day with them for 5 days, cooking for 180+ girls and leaders, and at the end of the 5 days wish you could spend a little more time with them? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yup, that was Girls Camp this year for me.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Loved every moment.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">5 days of joy, joy, joy.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Muchas, muchas, gracias Heavenly Father. :) </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
Eight years in a row, but who's counting?<br />
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Apparently my ward is...</div>
Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-78891734250659868432017-06-23T12:28:00.000-06:002017-06-23T12:28:28.632-06:00And Just Like That She is Back.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Really, it must be the 18 month thing because </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">this girl's mission seemed to fly by. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She might disagree, and so might her mother</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> but I'm sticking with it.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There is almost nothing I love more</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> than basking in that returned missionary glow.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It's lovely.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Well done, Meghan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We sure love you.</span></div>
Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-48853826681246330702017-05-17T17:17:00.002-06:002017-05-17T17:17:58.725-06:00For Me.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovkfpgMP6UnHvnAqu5FIJvsR8TTOkoxWWwBKl-Yg8zwCDxGi8VHRoZPnJ6yApnIpMklmuW3wlg-1kDalQ3uBciNYSNEGHdzQrZtHjRRLNcomuUY6ZG8YQnv6ZO3Mi6b_LjwJS_4la8UWI/s1600/Mothers+Day+Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovkfpgMP6UnHvnAqu5FIJvsR8TTOkoxWWwBKl-Yg8zwCDxGi8VHRoZPnJ6yApnIpMklmuW3wlg-1kDalQ3uBciNYSNEGHdzQrZtHjRRLNcomuUY6ZG8YQnv6ZO3Mi6b_LjwJS_4la8UWI/s640/Mothers+Day+Photo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Somehow, amidst all of the crazy schedules of their lives, </div>
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they managed to put together a photo shoot for my Mothers Day gift. </div>
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I was super surprised and delighted.</div>
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Sure love these kids of mine.</div>
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Happy Mothers Day to me :)</div>
Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-86827952152854914072017-05-09T19:16:00.000-06:002017-06-23T12:28:43.178-06:00A Post About a Mom WAAAAY before Mothers Day.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Here's a post I wasn't sure I'd publish</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">but from somewhere deep inside it needs to be written.</span></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwomssCVU-l4n5PJULSv4VxL5Strlo0boyFpna3OgzGozGGLseRR5Raywsqo49alX9q0xGkNzRO_TVICtYM65DXSxeV1Ad228HA75hPJRgVfbpQ7D28tm08ZQIP-lNXuSTPmwoPRRl7X7/s1600/kids.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwomssCVU-l4n5PJULSv4VxL5Strlo0boyFpna3OgzGozGGLseRR5Raywsqo49alX9q0xGkNzRO_TVICtYM65DXSxeV1Ad228HA75hPJRgVfbpQ7D28tm08ZQIP-lNXuSTPmwoPRRl7X7/s640/kids.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I was a young mom, I found a scripture smack dab in the middle of the war chapters in the Book of Mormon. I read it often and told myself that it was probably the most important scripture I would ever read and understand. It pertained to Moroni's extensive fortification of cities, but to me, it was speaking of families and children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In Alma 59:9, Moroni says that <i>"it was easier to keep a city from falling into the hands of the Lamanites than to retake it from them..." </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I always read it as<i>: it is easier to keep your children from falling into the hands of the adversary than to retake them from him..."</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I promised myself that I would never forget that lesson. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I haven't.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I am kind of in the business of trying to take back cities. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For a LONG time I beat myself up over that early warning scripture. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I just wasn't diligent enough, good enough, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">righteous enough etc. etc.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I know better now. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In the end, after all of Moroni's fortifications and seriously, <i>notwithstanding<b> the</b> greatest example of a man of God to follow, </i> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">the people still made their own choices.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Choices that were really hard on Moroni, and on moms. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But--<i>agency is the plan.</i> HIS plan. It's just how it works. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It can be hard and painful but when you truly catch the vision, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">it is glorious beyond words.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So I have stopped beating myself up (most of the time). </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm still doing my best to fortify.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I'm holding on to my faith with both hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Because really, it <i>always</i> goes back to Jesus.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Nothing in my life is a surprise to Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He knows <i>my</i> end from <i>my</i> beginning- which means He knows just how to ease my burdens, fill me with hope, and increase my joy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">All I have to do is partner with Him and keep my covenants.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">Kept covenants <i>are truly</i> the best fortifications.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Just ask Moroni. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-70481386378043479562017-04-18T13:07:00.001-06:002017-04-18T13:07:20.896-06:00A Couple of Thoughts About General Conference:<br />
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<a href="http://media.ldscdn.org/images/videos/general-conference/october-2015-general-conference/2015-10-4010-president-thomas-s-monson-590x331-ldsorg-article.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://media.ldscdn.org/images/videos/general-conference/october-2015-general-conference/2015-10-4010-president-thomas-s-monson-590x331-ldsorg-article.jpg" height="358" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Number One:</b><br />
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One of the many things that my RT (religion teacher) has taught me by word and by example is: "Don't be a lazy spiritual learner." In fact he has said those exact words a few times :) This applies especially to the most current scripture we have: General Conference. He suggested that as we read and study the General Conference talks, we continually ask Heavenly Father, "Is this what you want me to learn from this talk?" When we finally feel that we received the intended messages for us personally, move on to the next one. It's been a game changer for me. Right after last October's General Conference, I listened to an old talk by Sheri Dew where she challenged herself to listen to at least one talk a day from the previous General Conference, until the next one. Doing that means you really do listen to talks over and over and over. But doing that prayerfully, has made it impossible for me to not receive the spiritual help that the Spirit has personalized just for me.<br />
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<b>Number Two:</b><br />
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I love the brethren. I love the sisters. As I watch, listen, read, and study their messages, I am overwhelmed that I get to be a part of them. I feel such a kinship. It's kind of like how I feel at the temple. As I take in all of the heavenly helpers and patrons, I sometimes think, "These are my people. This is who I am and I love it." I just feel a huge envelopment of love and truth and holiness--a divine connection of Spirit to spirit.<br />
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All that to say that I hope I never take General Conference for granted. I'm <i>holding fas</i>t to the messengers and messages from God in a world that is spinning further and further away from Him.<br />
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<i>Can I get an amen? </i>Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-49231574614673338542017-02-25T14:59:00.000-07:002017-02-25T14:59:28.369-07:00February-The Month of LOVE.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Ah February, the month of love...it just cries out for a list </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and so here goes: </span></div>
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I love this newly nineteen year-old boy.</div>
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YEP.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNN99cCIeSppRIWC7jmlRiiIU-RTGt1sD92Ys4TEV2cYJoMxfNfbh2kezOOmXQrWTkEozGGum1pgq_Chwbj6JJpOnmaKsNPQpzFVTxqG_PE3cZd6tBPKkbU6WY3IM8ZCBv-CU6MrNgawW/s1600/DSC_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNN99cCIeSppRIWC7jmlRiiIU-RTGt1sD92Ys4TEV2cYJoMxfNfbh2kezOOmXQrWTkEozGGum1pgq_Chwbj6JJpOnmaKsNPQpzFVTxqG_PE3cZd6tBPKkbU6WY3IM8ZCBv-CU6MrNgawW/s640/DSC_0001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I definitely loved his birthday cake.</div>
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Remember the Chocolate Wasted Cake I made for Cameron?</div>
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This is an off-shoot using white chocolate and Cadbury Eggs.</div>
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<i>And I also love that photo-bomber :)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5irrBX1qLE9zbSlqabQoJy5Ia9MjqX6-CSBjnxHhsXyP__K4OaU3S5n9nrlkCXtj14cnUwy-w_jujHnjBEyE2biEUKypIAeAZSEzzbm-4ym3JdeFBrAd0ImmNJdNavQmIqknhl02_DBgD/s1600/cosmo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5irrBX1qLE9zbSlqabQoJy5Ia9MjqX6-CSBjnxHhsXyP__K4OaU3S5n9nrlkCXtj14cnUwy-w_jujHnjBEyE2biEUKypIAeAZSEzzbm-4ym3JdeFBrAd0ImmNJdNavQmIqknhl02_DBgD/s640/cosmo.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i> </i>I love that I got to spend a HUGE chunk of time with these two.</div>
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I seriously went through withdrawals when they left...</div>
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I love that Valentines Day is smack dab in the middle of the </div>
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month as a helpful little push to get you through the rest of it.</div>
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<i>I love that I have my very own awesome valentine.</i> ;) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_dW6DuMvF7xBvecn3DRS2eDMD8dsyWVzvqIPx-MHcC5miHKDzJ2yX_TTRBSqeKDhrTPQw_R5DneSfyhUtlBa9TkuGHcqaEaP90big9mLjP5bIJlA2hFvdLnycZS-Sf6FY-6BeWJhZWL0/s1600/DSC_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr_dW6DuMvF7xBvecn3DRS2eDMD8dsyWVzvqIPx-MHcC5miHKDzJ2yX_TTRBSqeKDhrTPQw_R5DneSfyhUtlBa9TkuGHcqaEaP90big9mLjP5bIJlA2hFvdLnycZS-Sf6FY-6BeWJhZWL0/s640/DSC_0082.JPG" width="422" /></a></div>
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I love that these two just announced that they are </div>
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expecting a little boy in August!!! </div>
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<i>Yay for more babies after a 13-year dry spell!!!</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrvLNH8gYFYEqmRs018myow2s3PSn1iXJSXRhBHmBZNhjJnfR7OkJG2FZZTP0JVITM9jEb4FWFgUh20RYGibWLAjIPWYA4hZdAP6fdkVDaTC2RoQV3E5BfNA9KUtnAD6ekf2KhVV3W9Hu/s1600/hope.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrvLNH8gYFYEqmRs018myow2s3PSn1iXJSXRhBHmBZNhjJnfR7OkJG2FZZTP0JVITM9jEb4FWFgUh20RYGibWLAjIPWYA4hZdAP6fdkVDaTC2RoQV3E5BfNA9KUtnAD6ekf2KhVV3W9Hu/s640/hope.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I love that God always sends me the right messages at the right time.</div>
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I love that two nights a week I get to walk to my class and pass pictures</div>
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of the three heavenly months I spent in Jerusalem.</div>
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Literally.</div>
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<i>We had good hair.</i></div>
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And about those religion classes-</div>
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<i>I still LOVE them. </i><i> </i></div>
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<a href="https://davethenovelist.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/la-la-land-musical.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://davethenovelist.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/la-la-land-musical.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And finally, February might be the very best month to see this love story.<i>..</i></div>
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<i>Thank you Trilby- I LOVED it!!!</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so, though February wasn't perfect<i> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> #rain #grayfordays #snowformiles </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was definitely<i> LOVELY.</i></span></div>
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Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7988391878693423436.post-79443714062348438732017-02-03T15:40:00.000-07:002017-02-03T18:52:01.705-07:00Joy.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last Tuesday I worked my temple shift-</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(and I hate saying "worked" and "shift" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">when I talk about the temple because it's sooo not work)-</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">however, I was there and it felt good to be back.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It's not shocking to know that I have been praying a lot </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">about joy lately.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">About finding it, and giving it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I definitely had a week of joy in Texas with the little family.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And I don't mean just happiness, I mean joy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The kind of joy that comes from wanting to do everything you can to help and love and create happiness. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> And it is always so hard to leave.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I flew back, I felt the ever looming clouds of my own problems and concerns returning to my mind...I tried to banish them with positive thinking, Korean music (<i>not</i> joking), </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">uplifting podcasts and talks. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I fought them hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In Texas, after my scripture study, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I read my patriarchal blessing every night.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I picked and pulled at it. I rewrote it. I categorized it. I did everything I could to try and comprehend it's overarching message that I was struggling to believe.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The message that told me that <b>joy</b> and <b>happiness</b> would reign supreme in my life. <i>Supreme.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">At this time in my life that almost seems laughable.</span> </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i>But because I believe and trust God with my whole soul, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I know that it is truth.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">With that promise of joy he also gave me ways to feel it and share it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So I am on a mission. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A mission to<b> find </b>and <b>feel </b>and <b>give</b> joy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And in the temple last Tuesday, as I was walking back from the bride's room after having dropped off an elated grandmother to be with her <i>almost married</i> grand-daughter, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I had the biggest smile on my face and in my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The spirit whispered "This is joy Brenda. True joy."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">IT WAS.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">God is good.</span><br />
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<br />Cookie Doehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02414104693743756821noreply@blogger.com