Boxes

So I'm an ISFJ. Introverted, Sensing, Feeling, Judging. I'm a Protector Guardian. I go about my task of caretaking modestly, unassumingly, and because of this my efforts are supposedly not sometimes fully appreciated. According to keirsey.com, my ideal job is as follows:
"With their extraordinary commitment to security, and with their unusual talent for executing routines, Protectors do well in many careers that have to do with conservation: curators, private secretaries, librarians, middle-managers, police officers, and especially general medical practitioners. To be sure, the hospital is a natural haven for them; it is home to the family doctor, preserver of life and limb, and to the registered nurse, or licensed practical nurse, truly the angels of mercy. The insurance industry is also a good fit for Protectors. To save, to put something aside against an unpredictable future, to prepare for emergencies-these are important actions to Protectors, who as insurance agents want to see their clients in good hands, sheltered and protected."
Well, I don't want to be a librarian. Or a middle-manager. Or a police officer, or a doctor. I've decided that I don't really like these types of classifications.
One of my favorite artists, Fabian Perez doesn't like to categorize his worke because it "limits the artist as well as the work." This is how I feel having personality tests or types put on me. It is limiting.

So then I think of God. What personality type would He be? What was Jesus? Was He the Protector Guardian, or was he something else? I sometimes treat God like one of my friends. I put Him in a nice little box and try not to let Him out. And then when He "acts out" or does something that I'm not expecting, it throws me off.
But why do I put the LORD in a box anyway? He is the one who created boxes, He created me. If He truly is the Creator of the Universe and everything within it, why would I want to put Him in a stupid little box? It's limiting. And dumb.

Let Jesus out of the box to play.

I Serve an Artistic God

My great-grandmother would be ashamed of me.
Grandma Bessy was as old as Methuslea-or so I though at the age of four. Wrinkely, grey-haired, and tall, she was a whopping 90 some-odd years old, not to mention a great cook. Anything and everything would be fried in bacon grease or lard. Once a month my family would drive the one hour to Orville, California, to see her and her husband.
Grandma Bessy was a Baptist of the strictest kind: no drinking, no dancing, no singin' too loud. She was horrified when she found out that Nyquil was 70 proof.
So why would she be ashamed of me? Well, dear reader, I'll tell you.
I danced in church. Yep. In church.
Calvary Chapel Petaluma has this thing called First Fridays. It is a nightime worship night on the frist Friday of every month. Pretty sweet if I do say so myself. So I was there, getting my song on, and I found myself moving. Its not a full-out wild jungle dance, more like a slight hopping and swaying to the music. I've found that its hard for me not to move whenever I hear music. Especially when I'm singing with all my heart.
I've decided there is nothing wrong about dancing. There is no Old Testament law that I am aware of that makes it wrong. King David danced when the Ark of the Covenant was brought to Jerusalem (2 Samuel 6). Pslam 150 says, "Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp! Praise him with timbrel and dance; praise him with strings and pipe!" I've decided that God is artistic.
So if I can dance and show my love for the LORD, why would it be different if I were to write a song about Him or to paint something that brought me to a closer relationship with Him? Is not our God a God of creativity? Did He not create the world and all that is in it? He made the sun to shine during the day and the moon at night, complete with beautiful sunrises and sunsets each time. If I paint a sunset with the LORD in mind, is that not worship?
My youth pastor Matt once said something that made me laugh. Only now do I understand what he was trying to say. He said, "Eat your Cherrioes with God in mind" (it was later modified to brushing your teeth with God in mind). Either way, if we are to laugh or to enjoy a good steak with the LORD in our minds and in our hearts, we still can worship the LORD. Is not even writing a form of worship? Speaking to others about God? Caring for the widows and the orphans? There is more than one way to skin a cat. There also is more than one way to worship a creative God.

Unsorted WHAT?

Dear Friends,

I know that you desperately look at my blog every day for some sort of insight, but this is all I've got for you today. Check out this blog. Maybe it will help. Or at least get a couple of laughs.

Love,
Tamsen

Musical Monday! Featured this Week: T-Pain Low

So I was sitting in my room the other day and one of my roommate's music was playing. To my horror, I found myself singing the lyrics to T-Pain's new hit Low. Here are the lyrics. I will translate after each line as needed.

T-Pain Low

H h h h h let
me to talk to ya
let me to talk to ya
mh h h h h let
me to talk to ya

come on
shortie had them apple bottom jeans (jeans)
*apple bottom jeans as defined on urbandictionary.com: Fashionable denim for women with voluptuous, curvaceous posteriors.*
boots with the fur (with the fur)
the whole club was lookin at her
she hit the floor (she hit the floor)
*Dance like wild*
next thing you know
shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low
*dropping low to the ground, bumping and grinding*

them baggy sweat pants
and the reboks with the straps (with the straps)
she turn around and gave that big booty a smack(heyyy)
*Oh yes, these really are the words*
she hit the floor (she hit the floor)
next thing you know
shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low (come on)

So right after these words emitted from my mouth, I was shocked at what I had just particpated in. I am a young woman who professes to follow the teachings of Jesus. Pretty sure that He would not want me to be listening to lyrics like that, much less singing them.
Even just to think about what they are saying-A man is in a club, sees a little hottie with a nice butt, and watches her voyeristically. Walks up to her in his gangster outfit (sweat pants and the Reboks with the straps), and spanks the girl. Way to objectify women.
So I'm not much of a feminist, the extent of my femininst philosophy agrees with Mary Woolstencraft and her Rights and Vindications of Women. To sum it up, she basically says that women were simply brainless breeders who were taught to think only of who they were to marry and what to wear the next day. On special occasions they would think about tea. This was the 18th Century, after all.
So what have today's women been reduced to? Yet again, they are mindless. But instead of being something pretty to look at, they are now something to play with. I am not a toy! I am more than a set of hips. I have a mind, feelings, and emotions. I prefer to be treated accordingly.
Sorry for getting all preacher on ya'll, but I feel that this is something that I have slipped into. Jesus said to be in the world but not of it. By listening to this song and singing along to the words, I have participated in it. The world and I were one. I have subjected myself to what the world thinks of me, forgetting what my Creator thinks.
So I encourage you, Dear Reader, to take into consideration what I have said. Go forth and clean out your music files. The next one I promise not to preach. :D