Time for a little gender game…

And yes, I just used the word “gender”. Because this time I’m actually talking about the social constructs of male and female rather than the biological differences between male and female (for the most part).

“First Things” has a list of 50 Things a Woman Should be Able to Do and 50 Things a Woman Should Never Do.

They also have a nice little list of 50 Things a Man Should be Able to Do and 50 Things a Man Should Never Do.

Just for the record, I don’t agree with everything on the lists. But I do think they’re kind of fun/funny.

So here’s my game. Choose a gender (whichever you prefer to identify with) and give yourself two points for every item you have done on the “50 Things a ___ Should be able to do”. Now take away two points for every item you have done on the “50 Things a ___ Should Never Do”.

Then tell us your points and give some comments.

Here, I’ll start.
I’m a woman

+ (28×2) – (6×2) = 44

Okay, so those first fifteen–the Proverbs 31 ones? So not fair.

So I don’t do much that I shouldn’t–but I ought to do tons more.

Yep, that pretty much describes me, right folks? :-)

After performing so awfully as a woman, I’m wondering if I’d make a better man.

Me as a man

+(22×2) – (5×2) = 34

Yeah, um. This is ridiculous. I’m a rather accomplished woman, but I only score a 44 on the woman one. And I’d make an AWFUL man (just ask my brothers), yet I can score a 34 on the man one? There’s something wrong with this picture.

Can anybody beat me for femininity or masculinity (as defined by this silly little game I just made up?)

Give it a try and leave your score in the comments.


Flashback: Bedtime Stories

Flashback Friday buttonPrompt: What was bedtime like when you were growing up? Were your parents strict in enforcing bedtimes? Were you a difficult one to get to bed? Did your parents share stories about getting you to sleep when you were a baby? When did your parents turn bedtime over to you?

It always gives me pause when parents nowadays can’t ever do anything in the evening because they have to get their kids home for a 7:30 or 8:00 bedtime. I don’t remember bedtime being a big deal in our home. There was never a magic hour. We just played in the living room or did our evening activities until dad said that it was time to go to sleep. It generally was around 9 or 9:30, but there was never a set time identified to us kids as “bedtime.”

I do remember wanting to stay up past when Dad gave the bedtime announcement. My sister and I shared a room, and we were both eager book-a-holics from a very young age. Mom and Dad left our bedroom door cracked to let the hall light shine into our room as a “night light”, and I remember Anna and I laying with our books in the stream of light that came through the crack. We moved our books up and down to read them if the light stream wasn’t wide enough to cover the whole book. That was when we were reading the “Little House” books, so we were probably in second or third grade.

During our slightly older elementary years, problems arose with our shared bed situation. Anna liked to kick or poke or tickle–and I didn’t appreciate it when I was supposed to be trying to sleep. We tried a variety of solutions. One in particular involved making two separate “beds” on our double bed. We each folded a sheet and blanket in half for our half of the bed and slept in between the layers as if we were in a sleeping bag. I guess this wasn’t completely effective–or maybe Mom didn’t like it–because we ultimately ended up with a different solution.

I finally got fed up with the bed mess–so I moved into the closet.

Yes, you heard me. I moved into the closet.

We were responsible for our own laundry by that point, but that doesn’t mean that we were actually responsible about DOING our laundry–so we generally had a nice soft foot or more deep collection of dirty clothes in our closet. I took my blanket and my pillow and slept in the closet. I imagine if my parents had found out, they would’ve insisted that I go back to bed–but I slept in peace in the closet for months, at least, if not a year.

I remember being thrilled that we were homeschooled, because it meant we could actually have fun at night–unlike all the kids in the neighborhood whose parents insisted that they go to bed while the SUN was still shining. We had a couple of friends whose backyard adjoined our way-back yard, and I remember many a night when they’d come back to the privacy fence that separated our yards. They’d say their good-nights, and maybe offer us a bit of their “midnight snack” (I particularly remember some Laffy Taffy). Then they’d go to bed while we waited for the sun to go down. Once the sun was down, you see, we could play kick the can with Dad.

While the rest of the school-aged crowd slept in their beds, a Menter kid could be heard with a shout resounding through the neighborhood: “One, two, three on DAD!!!” And another would shimmy his way over a fence, slink through the grass, and hide behind the well house before finally breaking free to kick the can out from under an unsuspecting watcher while yelling “Ollie, ollie oxen free!”

Visit Linda for more bedtime stories.


Thankful Thursday: Amidst the Busyness

This week has been a lovely one thus far, but I’m glad to be nearing its end. I’ve been Busy-with-a-capital-B. But amidst the busyness, I’ve had many precious blessings.

Thankful Thursday banner

Today I’m thankful…

…for book club starting again next week. (We’re reading Leo Tolstoy’s The Kingdom of God is Within You–I’m excited to further explore the concept of non-violence, and to do it with this group of believers.)

…for Bible study last night–and all the ladies being patient with my crying (yet again.) What a great group of ladies!

…for Sunday School this past week. It’s been a while since I taught a children’s Sunday School, but I filled in this week, teaching about Abraham and Isaac. Oh how I enjoy teaching children.

…for great coworkers and trainers who are showing me the ropes.

…for Gracie, who misses me and made an appointment to see me tomorrow :-)

…that God supplies all my needs, not by giving me things, but by giving me Himself. How could I live without Him? I just couldn’t.


Book Review-”Manufacturing Depression”

I started reading Gary Greenberg’s Manufacturing Depression with a good deal of interest. The first few chapters certainly intrigued me (as noted here). Greenberg laid out his idea that depression is an “invented” disease and that the medical diagnosis of depression rewrites the narrative of human suffering as a medical problem rather than an existential problem. He proposed to explore the history of the “invention” of depression throughout the rest of the book.

And he did. He wrote of the history of the “disease” called depression. He wrote of the creation of the nomenclature for depression. He wrote of how depression is not identified based on empirical evidence of pathology but upon a collection of symptoms somewhat arbitrarily assigned based on the effects of psychoactive drugs. He wrote of how drug companies marketed depression to consumers at the same time as they marketed their drugs to “fix” it.

Greenberg uses this information to mount a case against the modern medical model of depression. His main argument against the model is that it doesn’t have as much scientific support as it has been advertised to have. However, Greenberg offers no evidence that proves (or even suggests) that the medical model to be incorrect. His sole argument is that the model is “not as proven as some might claim”.

The history of the medical model of depression is fascinating–but I had a hard time with Greenberg’s obvious bias against the medical model, because I felt like he had no viable alternative model to offer.

Greenberg is a therapist. He uses the medical nomenclature of the DSM to get paid. The fact that he has clients visiting him implies that something is wrong with their lives–something they need help with. But if this is not a medical problem, what is it? It’s not a coping problem, says Greenberg–he disapproves of cognitive therapy that teaches coping skills.

So what is it? How is human suffering, particularly the chronic kind that seems unresponsive to changed circumstances, to be understood? What causes it? What can be done to change it?

Greenberg offers no solutions. Sure, he puts in a plug for his own free-form Freudian version of therapy–but he correctly notes that his own version of therapy really has no theoretical, philosophical, OR empirical underpinnings. He simply asks what he feels like asking, explores what he feels like exploring, goes with his gut in therapy. Ultimately, he offers no alternative narrative to the medical one.

While Greenberg rightly points out misuse of the scientific method in the development and marketing of both depression and its cures, he appears to conclude that this invalidates any scientific inquiry into suffering. I object.

Perhaps this is simply the difference between my ideology and his. I am trained in a science, in a field where scientific inquiry is admired, where we want to make sure that any theories we form are scientifically validated. I am a health-care provider who thinks highly of evidence-based medicine.

I’m also in a field that has a thousand self-proclaimed experts with a thousand different theories and recommendations, few of which are supported by ANY science, much less the preponderance of evidence.

So I tend to have a low view of pseudo-medical professions that base their practice off of ideology rather than testable, provable facts.

Basically, I felt like Greenberg’s main reason for writing this book was to discredit depression since his own brand of Freudian talk therapy has fallen out of vogue. Much of what Greenberg said may have been true–but I doubt his motives in sharing, especially because he offers no evidence to support his own version of depression and its treatment (in fact, he derides the very idea of evidence-based practice.)

I found Manufacturing Depression to be interesting, but ultimately unsatisfying.

Greenberg ends his exploration of depression with a word of advice to readers. He urges them to write their own narrative about suffering–not to let the medical “experts” write their story for them. But what he fails to do is offer any better alternative narrative. Even if the medical model of depression is full of flaws (and I have no doubt that it is), it’s still the best explanation so far.

I’m a scientist–and I’m not going to throw out an explanatory theory unless I have good evidence against it or a better theory to replace it with. Greenberg offers neither.


Rating: 2 stars
Category: Medical History, Depression
Synopsis: Greenberg tells the history of depression as a modern disease.
Recommendation: Interesting but unsatisfying, as Greenberg attempts to discredit a model without offering any better alternative.


Visit my books page for more reviews and notes.


Wardrobe mods

Once or twice a year, Kris has a garage sale to raise money for missions. She accepts donated items from all over everywhere to sell.

And when Kris gives the call for donations, I know it’s time to get sorting through my stuff.

What with a new job to dress professionally for, my wardrobe could use a going over anyway.

So a few days ago, I took to sorting through my drawers and closet. Pull out everything that doesn’t fit, needs mending, or that I just don’t wear. Critically evaluate each item and sort into three piles: garage sale, rag material, and mend or refashion.

Inspired by Marisa of New Dress a Day and by the hundreds of t-shirt refashioning tutorials I’ve seen in the past several months, I was more ruthless than usual when I sorted my first bit.

I pulled out dozens of shirts, dresses, slacks, and skirts that are perfectly fine and wearable–and that I do wear–but which I’d like even more if they were modified. Short sleeves instead of long. A little tailoring here and there. Redo the hem to a more flattering length. Bits and pieces.

And I started to get to work.

A plain black high-necked, long-sleeved t-shirt became this fun shirt:

Black T-shirtBlack T-shirt

When I accidentally put the shirt on backwards (with me, an unfortunately way too common occurrence), I discovered a happy surprise. The shirt works just as well backwards with a ruffly scoop back and a boat-like front neckline.

Black T-shirtBlack T-shirt

Sorry, ladies, I’m keeping this one for myself–but I sent plenty of other clothes out to Kris’s. If you’re in Lincoln this Thursday and Friday, be sure to drop by 4800 NW 2nd Street to peruse the offerings and support missions. (This particular sale will support missionaries who work with indigenous populations in Asia, teaching “storying”–a means of teaching the Bible to illiterate or otherwise non-reading people.)

Who knows, maybe you’ll find something to “mod” yourself!


I Bite My Tongue

Every day, I bite my tongue–er, still my fingers on the keyboard.

I desperately want to make snarky comments, to express my frustration, to let the world know how I feel.

They’re thinly veiled criticisms, one-liners that would be sure to meet their mark.

They refer to personal habits, individual quirks, things that drive me absolutely nuts.

Things about people I love.

Things that would hurt them deeply were I to speak.

Every day, I bite my tongue.

But not because I love them.

I bite my tongue because I love me.

I don’t want to disturb the peace, to have to actually deal with the issues–the issues that I know aren’t really that important but which bug me anyway.

I don’t want to have to undo the hurt I’ve caused.

Mostly, I don’t want people to see the real, ugly me.

If I said those words out loud, you’d all know how mean, how nasty, how spiteful I can actually be. And I don’t want you to know.

I want you to see me through rose-colored glasses. I want you to perceive me as super-spiritual, practically-perfect. Sure, I’ll share my struggles, so long as they’re big existential struggles (and I have plenty of those to keep blog space filled, it seems.) But I don’t want you to see my pettiness, my unlovingness.

I bite my tongue.

I do the right thing.

But not because I love.

Because I care what people think.


Fat Pills

Get those fat pills away from me,” my father said of the Smarties Grace had leftover from a start-of-school club booth.

Grace wasn’t moving fast enough, so Dad grabbed a handful and attempted to get rid of them himself.

“You don’t have any pockets!” he exclaimed to me.

Grace had a solution–“Fat Pills” stuffed in my neckband.

Rebekah with Smarties in neckband

A not-so-subtle message.

It’s intervention time, they’ve been saying. You need to gain some weight.

I know I do.

I wish I could.

I’ve been working at it–multiple meals a day, choosing more calorie-rich foods, etc.

It’s been work, keeping the pounds on.

I can hear what you’re saying: “Puh-lease. Give me what you’ve got.”

It puts me at a disconnect with a majority of the “diet-interested” population. Which, I guess, means that it’s good I’m not going to be working with the majority–or with the diet-interested, even.

Instead, I get to work with a population for whom weight loss is bad news–and my job will be to make sure it doesn’t happen.

It feels very “physician heal thyself” (or, “dietitian, stop your own weight loss”). But I’m proud to say that those fat pills must have paid off. I stepped on the scale last time I was at my sister’s (I don’t have a scale and generally only weigh myself once a month or less often)–and my weight is UP!

I know most of you don’t understand the excitement, but I’ll share it anyway!

Yippee!

Maybe my family will stop “stuffing” me now :-)


WiW: Proverbs

The Week in Words

My Bible reading plan has me going through Proverbs–and it just so happens that I found a free translation of the Proverbs by Rabbi Rami M. Shapiro at my local library. I figured I’d read the two together–my regular New King James (a word-for-word translation) and Shapiro’s free translation (a very loose version of a thought-for-thought translation).

It’s interesting to see how Shapiro interprets–and how having different wording changes my perception of the emphasis of a verse.

On Dreams and Real Life:

“Your mind is filled with many dreams,
yet life unfolds despite them.”
~Proverbs 19:21, Shapiro translation

This sounds like a fortune cookie saying, but I don’t deny that it’s true. My mind is filled with many dreams–and my life has unfolded despite them.

So what does the Bible actually say?

“There are many plans in a man’s heart,
Nevertheless the Lord’s counsel–that will stand.”
~Proverbs 19:21, NKJV

Ah–it just so happens that this is one of my favorite (and least favorite) verses. It’s undoubtedly true. I am one who has many plans in my heart, but ultimately it’s not my will but God’s that prevails.

Do you note how Shapiro has canceled God out of his translation of this verse?

It’s a huge loss.

Life unfolding, simply cause and effect, things happening, random. There’s no comfort there for my dashed dreams. There’s nothing to keep me from despair. It sounds like “You’ve got your dreams, good for you–but they make no difference anyway.”

On the other hand, consider my amalgam of Shapiro’s translation with the actual Proverb.

“My mind is filled with many dreams,
yet God determines how life unfolds.”
~Proverbs 19:21, bekahcubed amalgam

Life is unfolding, carefully orchestrated. My dreams don’t always come true. But I have hope amidst it all. After all, a better dreamer than I is busy creating a masterful story from my life.

I make plans. God does as He pleases.

And that’s the best way for it to be–even when (or maybe especially when) God “messes up” my plans.

Collect more quotes from throughout the week with Barbara H’s meme “The Week in Words”.


Sunday Snapshot: Hissy Fits

Last week, my family rented a couple of cabins at one of our local state parks and enjoyed a nice little retreat.

My sister prepared some fantastic food for us. For Sunday dinner, we had steak, vegetable packets, watermelon and s’mores.

My dad cut one bowl-full of watermelon. I ate one wedge and then went back for more–only to find that the bowl was empty.

That’s definitely provocation for a hissy-fit. I mentioned the idea out loud–and then, egged on by my siblings, went on to throw a full-fledged hissy fit. I laid down on the deck, pounded my feet and fists, and yelled “I want more watermelon.”

Rebekah throwing a hissy fit

John enjoyed the performance so much that he begged for a repeat–so that he could join in.

John throwing a hissy fit

Another sibling desperately attempted to take snapshots–but we were a bit wild, so the photos are understandably of poor-quality.

Ah–I love my family!


Recap (Sep 5-11)

Nothing’s new on bekahcubed. I had no time to write reviews, create photo albums, or post recipes. Maybe next week…

However, I have had a chance to do some ’round the web surfing.

Related to Previous Posts

  • A Primer on American Civil Religion

    “One of the most significant and notable aspects of early Christianity within the diverse Roman context was the transnational nature of this new faith. Christianity wasn’t the religion of any particular ethnic group but gathered for itself peoples from every tribe, language and nation. American civil religion attempts to appropriate even this aspect of Christianity by pointing to America’s immigrant heritage yet it does so by substituting American citizenship for citizenship within the body of Christ.

    It is appropriate for Christians to love their nation, to serve their country, and to seek the shalom of their city. It is not appropriate for us to confuse our national citizenship with our citizenship in the kingdom of God nor to attempt to confuse these two things by appropriating Christian terminology in the service of political zealotry.”

    Related to my thoughts on American Gospel by Jon Meacham, as well as The Myth of a Christian Nation)

  • “Just Me and My Bible” is Unbiblical
    A collection of quotes on why Biblical interpretation shouldn’t be done alone

    “It seems odd, that certain men who talk so much of what the Holy Spirit reveals to themselves, should think so little of what he has revealed to others.”

    Related to my recent post: Who Can You Trust?

On the web

Books for the TBR list:

  • Life Work by Darrow L. Miller
    Subtitled “A Biblical Theology for What You Do Every Day”, I can’t imagine not being interested in what this book has to say.
  • Politics According to the Bible by Wayne Grudem
    I’ve been wanting to read this ever since I first heard that Grudem was working on a book about theology and politics (thank you, Boomer in the Pew, for tipping me off!) Now since I just finished reading The Myth of a Christian Nation, I’m even more curious to hear what Grudem has to say–which I’m guessing is a bit different than what Boyd had to say.
  • Room: A Novel by Emma Donoghue
    This novel narrated by a five year old boy who has never known life outside one room sounds absolutely fascinating.

Thought-provoking posts:

  • Why should we read fiction?

    “Fictional characters and fictional events have the same sort of objective reality as Mickey Mouse, and they can have substantial effects on what we mistakenly think of as the ‘real world.'”

    “Fictional characters, fictional events, fictional places implant pictures in our heads, or present pictures to our eyes and ears. Fictions can paint pictures of worlds that attract us, and if the attraction is strong enough those pictures evoke a desire to realize that world. They might also plant pictures of worlds that repel us, and evoke a response of ‘Never.'”

  • Why Read, Part 2

    “None of us escapes the influence of fictional pictures or fictional friends. Imagination is not something we can take or leave. Our thoughts and actions, and our character, are always guided and shaped by some form of imagination. The issue is always whether our imagination is richly or poorly stocked, whether it is shaped by nightmares or molded by dreams.”

    HT: Justin Taylor

  • On the Vanity of Obsessions

    There is only one obsession that never disappoints: the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. All that we long for, all that we require, all that we seek, we’ll find it in Him. He alone satisfies, He alone fills to overflowing, He alone is worthy of our passion. He is to be our one magnificent obsession. Anything else we seek apart from Him will not only disappoint, it will become an idol, an empty and powerless false god.”

Videos worth seeing:

    Important discussions before bath-time.

    This cracked me up hard-core!
    HT: 22 Words