The Different Definitions of Christianity

I have been loving this recent conversation in the media, online and in our social sphere regarding whether or not we Mormons are Christians. It was begun by two Mormons running for President and spurred by a Baptist Minister calling the LDS church a cult and not Christian. This idea of Mormons being Christian or not has always fascinated me and so this uproar has been quite exciting. I have learned so much in the last few days and I'd like to share my insights.

I now realize that those who really believe that Mormons are not Christian have a very different definition of Christianity than I, and I believe most other people, do. I have been having a Facebook conversation with my very liberal religious studies professor friend who is adamant that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints falls outside the Christian sphere. He says that we are not "historical" or "orthodox" Christians as defined by the Ecumenical councils, the first seven of which were within a thousand years of Christ's death and then there were a whole bunch more after that. The most recent, according to Wikipedia, was in 1670, I think.These councils are regarded as infallible canon by the Catholic and Protestant churches. They set out a lot of definitions and rules that the orthodox Christian world must adhere to.

Because these ideas developed over hundreds of years in many councils, it would take a lot to fully learn and understand them. As my religious studies friend said, it would take about four different classes over about four semesters in college to do it. A "healthy dose of Greek philosophy is helpful to understand some of the more complicated doctrines too, such as the Trinity. And apparently, if you don't believe in the Trinity, three separate beings but all in one God concept, you are not a Christian. Well, I haven't taken those classes, nor do I know any Greek philosophy so I don't know enough about the councils or creeds to speak too much about their principles. But, my definition of Christianity is definitely different.

In fact, most of what I hear in the media doesn't address these councils or whether or not the LDS church adheres to their precepts. Usually, we hear reporters asking their interviewees to address the fact that the LDS church states very clearly that we follow Christ's teachings, that His name is part of our name and that all of our beliefs spelled out on mormon.org (thanks everyone for getting that out there, by the way) are very Christ-centric. This leads me to believe that maybe most people are thinking the same thing that I am - that the definition of Christianity is simply a belief in and following of Christ and His teachings.

This definition stems from the Bible and from common sense - as well as about every dictionary I have seen (see below for some links). The Bible doesn't use the word Christian much, but when it does, it is referring to the disciples of Christ. Acts 11:26 cites the first time the disciples were called Christians in Antioch. The term is also used in 1 Peter 4:16 and Acts 26:28 when King Agrippa tells Paul that he almost persuades him to be a Christian. This is before any councils got together to decide whether or not these disciples believed in the Trinity concept, which is not mentioned at all in the Bible.

So, obviously what we're dealing with are two very different definitions of Christianity.  I'm not here to tell you which you should believe but I do want to tell you why I believe the Biblical definition is the correct one.

The words that my facebook friend used to describe this definition were: historical, orthodox and traditional. He called the influences from the councils that gave rise to this definition historical, theological, political and philosophical. To me, all of these words imply human: in human history, human traditions, human theology, politics and philosophy. None of them address the eternal, spiritual or God-given aspects of a definition of Christianity which I would fully expect something based on Jesus Christ to be. Humans are fallible and imperfect and frankly anything that comes from them is too. How many philosophers have really given us truth? There are a lot of opinions out there of what truth is, but that's certainly not the same. And don't get me started on politicians! And, when you use the word "historical" how infallible can that be? Who's history? Did they write or tell it objectively? How many times have we heard that history is written by the winners or that our kids' history books aren't exactly right? And then there's tradition - the Christmas tree is a tradition, as are candy canes, wreaths, and Santa Claus. Most of these things didn't originally come from the Christian faith, they came from paganism and were adapted. How true or infallible can tradition be if they can so easily be changed and adapted to suit someone's needs?

When I read into the councils and creeds, I found that a lot of the principles were exactly what I've been taught in the LDS church. Check out the Apostle's Creed, the Nicene Creed and the Athanasian creed. This last one gets a bit confusing but it and the other ones clearly state many truths that are found in scripture, including that God, Christ and the Holy Ghost are separate individuals. So, I don't want to disparage these councils at all. I think that those who gathered there were doing their best to grasp the teachings found in the gospels and writings of the apostles as best they could. I believe they were good men doing a good thing and I'm sure did it better than anyone else on the Earth possibly could at that time. I just don't think that you can selectively exclude groups of people who claim to be Christian from this group based on the ideas that came from the councils.

I believe that the simplest and most inclusive definition of Christianity is most appropriate. This definition is what we find in the dictionaries and is clearly implied in the New Testament. Technically, this also comes from humans, but it is the original and simplest definition and is unencumbered by the adaptations and interpretations that came after.

Christians are those that believe in Christ as their savior and follow his teachings. Its canon is the teachings of Christ and the commandments. Its principles are spelled out clearly in the Scriptures - no need for four semesters of college and an knowledge of Greek philosophy to understand them. Its authority does not go back to councils of men but to the original scriptural accounts written by the apostles.

Unfortunately, I don't think the vast majority of people understand these differences. They simply hear their minister or priest say that Mormons aren't Christians and then assume we don't believe in Christ. This is a real shame and so I hope that we can start really discussing these different definitions so people are clearly informed and can make their own decision as to whether they think Mormons are Christian or not.

I'm so glad that we have had this conversation in our country just so that I could more fully get this. I hope that we keep talking about it and that more recognize these differences. I am so glad to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I know I am a Christian, no matter what history or tradition says. I know Christ is my Savior, that he suffered and died for me and my sins and that through Him, I can repent of my transgressions and be saved. I'm so grateful for that knowledge and for the growth in understanding I have had over the last few days. I hope that my learnings have helped you a bit, too.

Some links:
What Mormons believe about Jesus Christ: http://mormon.org/jesus-christ/
My profile on mormon.org: http://mormon.org/me/37PK/

The first four definitions of Christian that came up on Google for me:
http://www.thefreedictionary.com/Christian

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/christian
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/christian

Bryce Canyon - Celebrating the World God gave us!

This last 4th of July weekend Andy, Vienna and I took our first road trip in two years. Andy was one day pining that we might not take another road trip again as a family since Vienna is engaged and an adult and in college and all those things that so often mark the transition away from family adventures with your parents - ok I have to stop that or I'll start crying. Anyway, Andy was pining this potential loss when Vienna piped in that she was up for a road trip. So, we put our heads together and after rejecting a few destinations, came up with one we could all agree on - Bryce Canyon in Southern Utah.

Southern Utah is, in my opinion, the most beautiful region in the entire world - at least so far as I have seen. It actually gives me a feeling of true awe - not the kind of the modern vernacular of "awesome, dude" but the kind of awe you would have if you were in the presence of angels. The scenery of huge red cliffs, monoliths and buttes towering over you is completely captivating. This trip, I was completely surprised, though by the 30-mile stretch of interstate 15 that cuts across the northwest corner of Arizona. I'd never noticed how beautiful the mountains were and you seem to wind right through them with no effort at all as they surround you as you go.

Plus, I absolutely love travelling in Utah. As a Mormon that has never lived there, I just love seeing the beehives on the state road signs and knowing what they mean. I loved the time I was walking through a small Utah town and saw a shop window decorated with a tree covered in popcorn and thinking "I get that!". It's just fun.

So, Thursday night we piled into the car and started the 14-hour drive. I won't give you too much detail about the trip. You can get that on Andy's blog if you like. But, anticipating the days ahead and the hours spent together was exciting and relaxing at the same time. It wasn't always like that for me, though.

Andy, Vienna and I have been on a lot of roadtrips - almost every year since 1996. Andy has created websites or blogs about most of those (I'll put some links below). When we first started doing roadtrips, I was not a fan. In fact, I put up quite a fight for a good 10 years or so. Fighting because they were a hassle, took time out of my oh-so-exciting life of work (sensing my sarcasm?) and meant less time for me at home - and for a homebody like me that's a big deal. I felt like I was taking time away from my goals and the money we spent couldn't be spent on what I wanted for myself.

But a few years ago something changed. I'm not sure what it was but I think it went along with a lot of other changes that were happening that I won't go into here. (I'm trying to keep this post light-hearted.) Somehow I realized that my job was just a way to earn money so I could have a home and do things with my family - that is literally why I had a job at all. I started caring less about how much time I took off work - who cares if I have to take time off without pay? All that pay is for anyway is to be able to do things just like this so stop worrying about it. Once I let go of the stress of taking time off of work, the other stresses went away and I started to not only enjoy the trips, because I always enjoyed them, but started looking forward to them more and being excited for the time with my family.

Then, I started realizing all of the amazing things we have seen on the road of the magnificent country. There is literally no part of this country that isn't wonderful for one reason or another. The South has such charm, fantastic BBQ and a homey feel you don't get in other places (and I really want to explore Louisiana more - what a different culture, there!). The northeast has amazing cities, lakes and gorgeous color in the fall. The mid-west has just so many trees and things that you don't expect- like the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. A building made of corn husks! Go figure! The northwest has vast expanses of sky and Andy's favorite landmark, Devil's Tower in Wyoming. And of course the Southwest is probably my favorite with deserts, mesas, native american food and culture, Joshua trees and Suaro cacti. Andy and I have been to every state in the lower 48 and Hawaii. And Andy's even been to Alaska - I can't wait until I can go via the Alaskan highway. How many people can say that?

And then there's the pop-culture that is always imbued in whatever locale you're in: the cowboy culture of Texas and the west, Route 66 which has probably more pop-culture icons associated with it than any other landmark in the country, the nautical theme that permeates Maine and the Northeast, and the New England states with American History represented in names, signs and businesses everywhere. And did I mention Louisiana? The French/Cajun culture is completely unique to anywhere else in the country. We truly have a great country.

I guess I've been all over the place in this post but my bottom line is this - if you haven't been out there, GET OUT THERE! Get on the road! If someplace is less than 2 days drive then don't take a plane - pack the car and go! You can't see the country from the air. You can maybe make out the plots of farm-land in different colors, but you can't see the trees and plants up close and guess what's being grown from that tiny window on the plane. If the thought of spending hour after hour in a car bores you just thinking about it, then remember that it is time with your family that you'd never have otherwise with everyone's hectic lives. You get to see so many beautiful things if you just watch out the window. A boring desert isn't boring when you contemplate what kinds of plants and animals can survive there, what it must feel like to walk through it (don't be afraid to get out and find out, either!), and the giant mountains that are coming up right in front of you.

And, there's always the opportunities to stop at the roadside diners, tourist traps and shops. Not only do they break up a long trip but you can get close to the local communities and people that make a trip memorable.

So, now when I take a roadtrip with my family, I am reminded of how grateful I am to my Father in Heaven for all that he has given us in this world - the beauty and variety, the people and my family. We really do live in a great land that has so much to see. I hope that if you haven't already, you can get out there and see it too!

Here are some of our previous roadtrips:

2009 Diner Tour

2008 Great Western Roadtrip

2008 Andy's Route 66 tour (Rt. 66 was our very first roadtrip in 1996 but it was before we started doing the websites. It is a definite MUST on the list of amazing US roadtrips)

2007 BBQ Tour

2006 Cross Country trip

2002 Hawaiian Holiday (While not fully a roadtrip, we definitely rented a car and toured the islands of Oahu and Kuai by road)

2001 President Trek (A Marathon trip when we visited a site for every President)

2000 Texas Roundup

Milk cans, doorknobs and space clocks

Last weekend was an interesting convergence of changes. As my grandma started living in a new house, I was tasked with packing up and shipping what was left in her old house of my mom’s things that I acquired after her passing four years ago. At the same time, the family is also integrating into our lives belongings of my Uncle Carl who passed away last year. From each one of these life changes, I have wanted particular items to have as remembrances of people and places –my mom, Uncle Carl and my grandma’s old house. I found it interesting to think about why we want to have physical items to help us remember people and feelings of the past.

As I sorted through my mom’s things, there were several that I felt absolutely no connection to – A couple of collectible bears wearing cute outfits, some needlepoint patterns and lots of frames after I took the pictures out. I put these in the donation pile – or even the recycle pile for things not necessarily fit to donate. But, I found several things that I didn’t want to part with, including an embroidery of a lovely poem about children that I believe my mom made, a small wooden knick-knack shelf she made and gave to my grandma when she was in middle school – this was a new discovery for me - and of course the milk can. I remember when my mom brought home the milk can when I was a young kid. She set it in the hallway near the front door to keep it “for now” until she decided where she wanted to keep it permanently. There it sat the rest of the time she lived there – more than 35 years. That was my mom to a “T”. The only time it moved was when I used it to sit on when I talked on the phone as a teenager. I would move it four feet across the little hall to just inside the doorway of the kitchen, under the rotary phone that hung on the wall long after everyone else had touch-tone phones. I would sit on that milk can for hours talking to my friends and boys I knew.

Once, when Andy was in the Navy in Spain – when we were engaged and anxiously awaiting our wedding day when we would be together forever – he called me and as I was sitting on the milk can, the call got cut off. I knew he would call right back so I waited on the milk can. It took longer than I expected, probably because of the crazy phone lines on the Navy base in Rota, so I laid my head down on the kitchen counter. Being a college-kid who also worked late at night at the local Pizza Hut, I was often very tired and so as I was waiting with my head down, I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept – maybe 20 minutes but when I woke up, my feet were just as asleep as I was. Stupidly, I tried to walk on them to get to my bed – NEVER try to walk if your feet are asleep! Two or three steps later, my right foot buckled under and I went down in excruciating pain. It was fractured – the only bone fracture I’ve ever had. It was years before I could wear heels again for any length of time. But, I still love that milk can. How can I get rid of something that holds such memories for me? I gladly paid to ship the 35lb rusty metal monstrosity home.

Earlier, when I was talking to my grandma about the old house, she told me that my cousin Gwen said she wanted the doorknobs from the old house. These are great old antique doorknobs and when I heard the idea, I loved it and wanted one, too! So, I silently apologized to Gwen for not letting her have all of them and decided to see what I could do to get the doorknobs out of the house – maybe to share among all the grandkids. So, after I was done packing mom’s stuff, I found the little red toolbox Grandma kept in the utility room and hadn’t brought to the new house yet and worked to learn if I could remove the old knob from the living room door and replace it with a new one. After all, I didn’t want to leave the house doorknob-less. Alas, I found that removing the knob and plate was easy but because this was an antique knob with one of those big skeleton keyholes beneath it, there was a lot of hardware embedded in the wood of the door that I could not remove – at least without destroying the wood. So we are leaving it to my Uncle Larry who is much more handy with these things and visits often. He may be able to come up with a solution to our problem. But, I’m already imagining that little shelf my mom made with the doorknob on top as one of the small mementos it will house. I really hope Uncle Larry can figure it out and I’d love to be able to send a Facebook message to all my cousins announcing that we can have doorknobs if we want to remember that great old house with.

The other item I received that weekend that is of great importance to me is an item that belonged to my Uncle Carl. He passed away last year and I expressed to Grandma that I would love to have a small something from his house to remember him by. Thursday, when I arrived at her home, Grandma gave me a space clock – a desk clock that says “Nasa – Sharing Space Technology – Kennedy Space Center” below the analog face that she found in his house. Uncle Carl was a physicist and worked for Nasa on the space shuttle for most of his life. I tell more about him in another post from last year. I love Carl as I love all my uncles and to have this small piece from his life means a lot to me. I think I’ll put it on the little shelf next to the doorknob.

But, I have been asking myself, why do we crave these things in our lives? Why do we collect these items that take up space in our homes and won’t mean anything to anyone 2 generations from now? Vienna’s grandkids won’t care if I sat on this milk can and broke my foot waiting for their great-grandfather to call from the Navy. They won’t have any memories of the house that belonged to my grandma and that I loved so dearly. And the clock will just be a clock to them – if it even still works – if Vienna even keeps it herself after I die. All these things will eventually go the way of the earth, just as we do.

I believe in the afterlife – that our spirits live on forever after we die and that we will be reunited with our loved ones who have passed on before us. I also believe that we will each have a perfect memory of all that happened to us while we were on the earth – unlike the fading and fallible memory we have now. I wonder if clinging to these things – these physical reminders – is kindof like clinging to or reaching beyond the veil that lies between this earthly life and the eternities - for the time to come when we will be with our family and friends again with a perfect beautiful memory of our lives on earth and won’t need these things anymore.

I am wondering if these things are simply for us to hold as a semblance of that joy we will have with our loved ones. Has God given us a desire for these things so that we might feel a sliver of what we will feel then and maybe have an inkling of what He has planned for us?

Well, no matter the answer to that, I love these small tokens of love, memories and life. I can’t wait to scrub, sand and paint my milkcan or hang my mom’s little shelves and on them place a doorknob, clock and other sweet mementos. I plan to cling to them until I don’t need them anymore.

My Grandma’s House

My grandma has, until recently, lived in the same house since long before I was born. It’s an old Victorian near downtown Largo, Florida that has a lot of character with a couple of unusually large bedrooms, the original hard-wood floors, antique door-knobs and built-in knick-knack shelves. It is old, creaky and drafty – not to mention hard to maintain and more difficult all the time for Grandma to maneuver because of the second story. So, despite the character, I don’t blame her for wanting something new after almost 50 years.

But, even still I am having to come to terms with the loss of this house in our family. My first memory ever was in the unusually large upstairs bedroom. I was still in a crib and just learned how to jimmy the side down and get out. I caused my young mom some frustration, I’m sure as I climbed out again and again to get into bed with her. I then remember the small toddler bed she got me with the brand new brick-colored ribbed bedspread that smelled like maple syrup. Yes, I swear it smelled like maple syrup – I have no idea why but even then I knew it was wonderful.

My great-grandmother lived just two doors down and we would often drop by to visit her. She had a great house, too with a back bedroom complete with toy box just for us little ones when we came over.

After mom and I moved into our new permanent little house in Clearwater, we still visited Grandma often – especially on the holidays. My most favorite memories of my childhood are in that old house of hers at Thanksgiving – adults at the big table, kids at the little table and lots of yummy traditional Thanksgiving foods to eat. There was turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes (lumpy and I wouldn’t have it any other way), cranberry sauce from a can, home-made dinner rolls and the pumpkin pies my mom and I would make from scratch together at home beforehand. To this day, these are my absolute favorite foods to eat and I insist on having them each year no matter what my family says. I don’t’ think I ever even asked Andy his Thanksgiving preference – there is only one meal for me at Thanksgiving. However, we have made a few changes like the homemade cranberry sauce Vienna wanted and learned how to make. This is a great addition to the wonderful traditions started in that old house.

But, it wasn’t the food that made those times so special – it was the people of my family. My uncles, Carl, Rick, Steve and Larry- my aunts, Sheila and Linda – my cousins which were few at that time – just Cliff and Teri – and of course, my mom and grandma. All these people were so special to me and I have great memories of each of them.

This is not a unique story and these are not unique people – except in the fact that they all got along. Mine was never one of those loud, obnoxious, argumentative families that make such funny and dramatic movies. The adults tended to sit around the living room sharing news of other family members with long pregnant pauses of silence, never feeling awkward but enjoying the peace of the house and the day. Only Uncle Rick would be an occasional rabble-rouser, striking up a light-hearted argument stemming from someone disagreeing with his obvious right-ness. He could irritate his siblings, for sure – especially my mom, but there would rarely be hard feelings left over.

There was also the obligatory viewing of the photo albums, an activity that I continued throughout the years. Grandma has always been faithful at keeping them current and reliving our history through them is always a treat. I remember gathering them onto the couch and flipping through the pages and enjoying the images of my mom and her brothers as children and hearing the stories that went with them.

There would of course be times of activity when grandma was cooking, setting the table and getting people to help in one way or another. Sitting around the table at dinner was much the same – family style serving and calm but interesting conversation interspersed with laughter. We kids would fool around and laugh at our little table as most kids do but never caused any real problems. But, I don’t remember even one time of drama or fighting in our family gatherings– that would be the one unique trait we have. I love my family because of that. We all loved each other and while things in our individual homes were never perfect, our times together reflected that love and caring for each other.

Through the years, things changed – branches of the family moved away, the gatherings got smaller, Grandma eventually turned the cooking over to others but the house was still there and family was always welcome anytime. As each family grew in number they would take turns staying at Grandma’s house – sometimes crowded in the back upstairs bedroom which was about the size of two living rooms so could hold all 6 of my Uncle Rick’s kids, Uncle Larry’s 3 or a combination of everyone- on the bed, in sleeping bags and on the pull-out couch-bed. Sometimes people were really crammed in there – and that’s when I loved it! When there were tons of people, it was always a blast.

Later when my cousins grew up, they started bringing their own kids to Grandma’s house, and I brought Vienna. A new generation of great-grandchildren got to know Grandma and her wonderful house. More folks lived far away, including us who moved to Georgia, Ohio and then California but there was always room at Grandma’s house and the feeling was always the same – calm, happy, peaceful – just like a home should be – a haven from the world. Often, when Andy, Vienna and I would have a harrowing adventure driving or flying across the country, we would find ourselves finally at rest in the upstairs bedrooms of Grandma’s house – hearing the crickets and birds outside but otherwise, completely quiet. This was peace. This was comfort. This was home.

I know many in the family agree that we are going to pine for those days in that old house. My cousin, Gwen has the great idea of getting all the antique doorknobs out for a keepsake. (Sorry, Gwen, Grandma told me and now I want one, too! Uncle Larry’s gonna see what he can do.) I felt that pang of sadness as I walked through the old house this weekend, taking pictures and packing up my mom’s stuff to ship home. I remembered that I used to climb the tree in the yard when I was little and thought about the locusts that used to live on the side of the house – they scared and fascinated me at the same time. But, as I got to know my grandma’s new house, I felt better.

It is perfect for her – one-story, spacious, bright, clean, much newer and has an amazing tree in the front that I want to climb one day – and she has brought all her old furniture with her which all has great memories: the pull-out couch, her lazy-boy that her kids got her years ago and fits her just right, the old wooden chairs and couch with the square cushions and of course the rocking chair – my favorite piece that as a kid I would have to relinquish to my wonderful Uncle Carl who loved it, too. And, best of all, Grandma brought the spirit of that old house with her – the peace, the comfort and the joy are all there and it was a pleasure to be there with her.

Then I realized, of course she brought that spirit with her because she is that spirit of the old house. The house had that feeling because she was there. She is calm and peaceful and happy. She taught her children to be the same and they have taught their children. And now, the new house has that spirit, too. Grandma is the matriarch of our family and wherever she goes, the spirit of our family goes no matter which house she lives in. Thank you, Grandma for creating that spirit and fostering it through the generations. I’ll miss the old house but I can love your new home, too.

For more pics of both houses check out my Facebook Albums: Grandma's Old House and Grandma's New House.

My first day on the bus to Seagate

I am commuting again. For a nice 9 years, I had a 5 minute drive to work - or a 12 minute bike ride, which was my preference. When the CEO of Seagate decided to move our headquarters more than 20 miles away and over the Santa Cruz Mountains, I thought my life was going to come to an end - at least the life that I knew. It really has taken me the full year since they announced the move to accept this change - and I don't know that I fully have, yet.

But, today as I take my first 45 minute bus ride over the slow-winding but beautiful mountain road, I have at least begun to accept some of the blessings of this extra time. Though I won't get to spend it with my husband in the evening as I would prefer, I do have a lot of great things I can accomplish with an extra hour and a half each day. Most notably, I can blog!

In church yesterday, in the women's organization (Relief Society), we had an amazing lesson by Damaris Palmer who inspired me to write in my blog and do more in the social media network to share more of myself, my beliefs and my unique life. So, I'm going to act on that inspiration, starting today by telling you of the most recent struggles of my life and how I'm coping.

I got a job at Seagate precisely because it was 5 minutes from my home. I had been working full-time in Silicon Valley, while living in Scotts Valley for a year and felt very disconnected from my home and family. I would get home at 6 or so every night and then after dinner, taking care of my daughter Vienna who was still in elementary school, and the other sundry duties, it was time for bed. The next morning it was up early, get Vienna off to school and me to work. I felt like I never had time to even get to know the new condo we had just bought. Seagate was perfect because I could get home shortly after 5 and feel like I had a life.

A year ago they announced the big move over the hill (the Santa Cruz mountains) and into Cupertino to be in Silicon Valley, as opposed to outside of it. Our CEO felt this would bolster our business position, give customers more opportunity to visit and allow for the Valley inspiration to rub off on us. I just saw it as one more way this big corporation didn't care about me, my family or my fellow workers and I held a grudge.

I will say, that my work did not suffer - even though I was tempted to really slack off. I love the team I work with and would never slight them because of my disgruntled-ness. They deserve my best.

Now I'm on the bus, resigned to my fate and looking for the opportunities this situation presents me. My attitude, though not perfect, has improved and I am willing to give this a chance before putting in my resume to the company that has made an offer to buy the old Seagate buildings. Some of the productive things I can do now with this time?

• Write in my blog! - Ta Da!
• Read my Scriptures
• Practice my piano using a roll-up portable keyboard I'm hoping my best friend will get me for my birthday. ;-)
• Keep up with my friends on FB and share my insights with them
• Write to my dear friend who is in prison
• Catch up on reading all the books Vienna's always wanted me to read
• Work on writing grants - my latest endeavor to create income that will let me work from home.

So, maybe this commute thing won't be so bad. My optimistic nature tells me it will be alright and may even provide some valuable growth for me. I know that God doesn't give me anything I can't handle and every trial He's ever put in my life has eventually been for my own good - like any good father would do. It's now up to me to find that growth and benefit in this latest struggle.