Thursday, March 26, 2015

A BUCKET LIST...OF SORTS.

I've been thinking a lot in recent weeks of how I want to be remembered when I am no longer physically upon this earth. No, I don't plan on catching that train anytime soon, but someday it will be my turn!

I have long since abandoned my own obituary:
Here lies a  poet,
Who couldn't spell.
She got saved,
escaping hell
She lived, and loved,
And had a ball;
What killed her was trying to write it all!

by D.B

Having written several obituaries for others has given me the opportunity to consider not only what will be said about me, but who will remember what was said, and more importantly, how did I impact the lives of others?  Was it as I intended.  (not always the same thing as reality)

And what of my self imposed tasks to accomplish? I am working on two books that are very important to complete and get published. God has gifted me with writing skills, and an awesome editor who journies with me through these projects. I feel an urgency to complete them.

I have several trips in my future, to spend time with Becky and enjoy the USA, I might even have another book or two simmering in my heart. Those are all things that I DO. I'm learning to be a human being, not a human doing.

I had lunch with a very special niece today and we talked for hours. She lost a sister through a tragedy 3 years ago. I asked how she was handling it, this far out!  She said she was still angry. (This was a drug situation)  She doesn't talk much because she has trust issues. She asked how I was dealing with my sisters recent death. I explained, for me talking to trusted and "safe" people, really helps.  Thank You to my Church resources and friends. My niece has plenty of reason NOT to trust people, but I won't tell her story.  This is mine.

She said "Aunt Darlene, God has blessed you and given you a heart of compassion for others. You can be relied on to do what you say you will. You are kind and affect lots of lives.  You stand up when you need too, and pray for everyone. That's how people will remember you"

Wow. It's not my sermons...not my books...none of that is more important than love, and love makes a difference.

My bucket list?  To be a lover.

When I was sixteen, I wrote a poem which I will share here. Yes...I still remember it.

WHAT DO I WANT OUT OF LIFE, SAID I?
I MUST DECIDE BEFORE I DIE.
DO I WANT MONEY? FAME? TO BE WIDELY KNOWN
OR TO BE REMEMBERED FOR THE LOVE I HAVE SHOWN?
I WANT ONLY A FEW TO REMEMBER MY NAME,
I DON'T WANT WEALTH, FORTUNE OR FAME
I WANT TO BRING HAPPINESS TO SOMEONE EACH DAY
MAYBE BY A SMILE, OR IN SOME OTHER WAY
I WANT OUT OF LIFE, JUST WHAT I PUT IN;
I DON'T WANT REWARDS  GIVEN BY MEN
MY REWARD IS THE FEELING INSIDE MY HEART;
TO MAKE OTHERS HAPPY, IS JUST DOING MY PART

IT WAS PUBLISHED IN THE NATIONAL POETRY BOOK FOR HIGH SCHOOL SENIORS.
SO, I GUESS MY FEELING AT THIS AGE IS PRETTY MUCH THE SAME AS IT WAS BACK IN 1962.  Except the money thing would be nice. LOL!

So, I invest in people, and if I never travel to far off lands...I can watch other's video's.

I'm still in process. Wait, is that a train I hear?
In deep affection to anyone who reads this musing, or rambling!
Darlene




Repairative Therapy doesn't repair anything

I was asked recently to write a 500 word article on my experience with both receiving and giving this kind of therapy over my life. Hopefully it will reach others that feel this is an "Answer" and can once again   demonstrate the harm done not only to adults but to the youth of our nation.


BEFORE IT WAS CALLED “REPAIRATIVE THERAPY”
Darlene Bogle:  Former Director of Paraklete Ministries-an Exodus Referal group

Long before I knew someone wanted to repair me, I was just a happy go lucky tom-boy. My days were spent climbing trees and fighting with my brother over who would wear his jeans! I had special girlfriends that I followed around like a puppy, and idolized them.

Then, I went off to a Christian college in the early sixties, and fell in love with Linda. Our bond was spiritual, emotional and sexual. With the religious judgments, Linda ended her life and I was forced into “counseling” to correct the errors of our ways.

Thus began the 30 year journey through therapy, multiple deliverance sessions to cast out the demons that drove me to perversions of homosexuality, and multiple hours of healing the inner child which had been damaged back to the darkness of my time in the womb .If I wasn’t broken before all of the efforts to fix me, I was left with the shameful realization that nothing could make me better. Hours of prayer, Scripture memorization, and purging my mind of temptations and friends who were toxic to me, left me living a lie!

Nothing had changed. So, why, you ask did I go into ministry and lead an ex-gay group to “fix” other people and set them free from their demons? I thought something was wrong with me, and perhaps I could do the impossible and help someone else to change who they were.

Before “reparative therapy” had a name, it was still destructive to the hearts of men and women who were told they were not “ good enough.”

"My heart was in the right place, but my message was not. In recent years I have seen the resulting damage from rejection, shame, and conditional love. I apologize for my part in presenting a God of conditional love, and ask forgiveness for the message of broken truth I spoke on behalf of Exodus. 

My heart breaks as I continue to hear stories of abuse and suicide from men and women who couldn’t change their orientation, through reparative therapy. One of our female attendees became so depressed over her inability to change that she jumped off a bridge rather than continue the struggle. I was told it wasn’t my fault, but my heart knew better."

My passion  is to bring healing to those, like me who were subject to such therapy.  I encourage them to speak out; stand up and call reparative therapy for what it is; shaming, destructive to the mind and spirit, and damning to the soul.

I have been on my road to recovery for over thirty years; however my memories are filled with those who we lost along the way, Gay, Lesbian, Transgendered to name just a few. This has to stop, and especially for the youth in these categories.

My single voice joins with hundreds across this land…It is enough. Ban the message of false hope of change, or even the need to change. I stand with them in a unified proclamation. This doesn’t work.

This MUST stop===Now!


Sunday, March 22, 2015

Grace, Grace, Marvelous Grace!

Psalm 51---sin and Grace:

Rev. Lois Muller preached this morning on Sin and Grace...We don't often hear "sin" spoken of in our church. It is missing the mark of perfection- a sensing of the need to be restored- cleansed and scrubbed clean from the vileness that separates us from the peaceful and ideal acceptance of a loving God.  We wear masks to hide from others, God, and ourselves and depending upon our faith journey, the path to grace can be self flaglatilon, denial of behavior that hurts another, God or ourself. We can  claim we have no acceptance of sin, (which of us would rather say we didn't believe in Sin) than to acknowledge the need to be purged from it?

I acknowledge my brokenness; my shame, my neediness, my need for an experience of not just knowing God loves me, but feeling that love that transforms me all the way down to my toes! I want more than a God who says, Go and sin no more...I want a God who wraps arms around me and whispers, I was there all the time!  I saw your darkness, your sadness, your shame, your anger, and yes, your tears. I saw it all, and nothing you could ever do, or have ever done, can separate you from my love and Grace.  

I long to hold you through the night, to restore the years of aloneness that plague the isolated recesses of your memory...I long to hold you redemptively, even in those times that you repeated the same sins, time after time because you felt no one really cared.  Will you let me in? Will you let my Spirit cleanse and restore?

Will you know Grace?

Oh this is not the sermon Lois preached, but this is the sermon I heard.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Grief by any other name...

It has been over a year since I have logged into this blog. The last two years of my life have been focused on living through the illness of my younger sister, Debbie. She was diagnoised with Ovarian Cancer in December 2012. Everything I read did not give much hope, and anywhere from one month to six months. I flew up and spent seven months with her and her family, caring for her, cleaning house, talking with her, sitting by her bedside through several surgeries; blood transfusions, chemo treatments etc. 
It was a time of learning for me.  Debbie and her husband Quin, just didn't want to know that it was terminal...She never lost hope, and I came to the conclusion that it wasn't my job to force her to accept death.  We had two years of talking, praying and accepting, that I wouldn't have ever anticipated.

On February 20th 2015, on her own terms and timing, Debbie slipped into eternity!
Cancer did not win
She is healed and whole and not in pain any longer. 
One last trip to Washington to participate in her celebration of life...We scattered her ashes on the Humptulips River and they ran into the sea.
I brought some home to California and Becky and I went to the Santa Cruz Wharf with long time friends Doug Speegle, Cathy Campos and Dianne Delisle. They all knew her from when she lived with me in the l970's! Full Circle, and Becky was able to scatter her ashes. We tied some to a balloon also.
What I have learned from this journey...
We who are alive and remain will get through it.
I can be a strong support for those who are the other generations...
Tell your loved ones that you love them---often
Ask for forgiveness
Tell them they are forgiven
Hug them often
You don't need all the answers, you just need to be present.

There is a time to be the Pastor...and a time to just be the sister.

Listen with your heart
It's not your words, but your love that matters.

Grief by any other name, still hurts and takes time to process.
I have many many friends who are walking with me.
And a spouse who loves me
and a deep awareness of being held by the Eternal God

What more could I long for?

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Monday, November 18, 2013

Full Moon walk on the Labyrinth

November 17th 2013. The chilly night air made me glad I had worn my heavy coat. Darkness was creeping across the sky and the full moon not quite visable. The scene had been set for us...small candles placed at every turn of the Labyrinth path, with a larger candle burning in the center of the rose in the middle. Each person there for a different pilgrimage of heart and soul.
       We were ushered onto the path with a small chime and a prayer from our guide. I expressed my intent of this particular journey...to have understanding of how to embrace and comprehend the health journey of a special loved one. Every day I live with my own fears and conflicts about things I have no control over, but don't seem to be able to let go. Looking for peace.

   It wasn't quite dark as I began my contemplative walk...I followed the lights to know where to turn. There were some places where I couldn't see the path at all, and walked in the shadows. At one point another traveler whispered, "Go straight ahead". Slowly...for darkness makes me hesitant..placing one foot in front of the other. A moment of panic later on the trip to the center...had I changed paths unintentionally?

I looked up and saw a full moon peeking through the trees.  I was aware of music softly playing in the distance. With each step, I intentionally said, I release this to you God...my fear, my love, My unknown future, my tears, my anger, my joy.  I release it by an act of my will. Please fill my heart with peace

At last I was at the center, surrounded by light and others on their journey...and silence. I stood with open hands, lifted up to receive.

I began the journey back...soon I was totally lost of my path, but not hemmed in. There are no walls on a Labyrinth...I stepped to the edge, then out of the pathway. Had I missed it. Was I cheating myself of a completed journey?  No, this is my path for now. There will be other walks, other meditations..and for now, this is where I am.

Learning peace.

Monday, May 7, 2012

An empty grave/

I'm not speaking of Jesus on resurrection day. This is a much more current story. Picture with me a cemetery setting in a hilly, wooded rural area. A fresh grave site is open, awaiting the ashes of a loved one. A time of 1P.M. had been set for the private service for Robert Eli Harvey, 34 years old.


Robert is the youngest, adoptive son of Rev. Naomi Harvey. He was the 3rd generation of "Harvey" folks on Grays Harbor, Washington State. The cemetery is Fern Hill, the resting place of Robert's grandparents, and two brothers, Roberto and Davido., who died in a house fire many years ago The full story is told in Naomi's book, "A Miracle Woman-The Naomi Harvey Story" available on Amazon.com by Darlene Bogle.








Robert had long ago expressed the desire to be laid to rest in the family plot, and arrangements had been made several years earlier. Now, there would be no RIP for him, and no time to grieve his loss.
Robert Eli Harvey
No urn to place in the open grave, because the remains were stolen.


Yes, 15 minutes before that service, Robert’s wife of 5 months, Shannon Wildner Tiedemann, and Mae Hamilton, the sister in law of Robert’s brother Izzy ran up to the mortuary and grabbed the ashes then left the area. Naomi arrived to be told that Robert was gone, and that Shannon had them.

The fact that she was Robert’s wife, did not entitle her to the ashes, because she had signed them over to the cemetery to be buried. If she was entitled, she could have just gone and picked them up.

So, why is it important to tell this story? Robert’s siblings, Rosa,Juan,Miguel,Manuel,Victor, along with Darlene Bernard and Rocky Liester, and Mike,Dan and Dennis Kennedy had part of their history stolen also

I tried to have this printed in the Local newspaper, however, even tho I could prove what was done, their policy is not to print pieces where people are called out for actions like this. Say What? I thought we had freedom of the press and freedom of speech. Not in Aberdeen.

So, the big question is why did this happen? Why were the actions of Robert’s biological family so cruel and despicable? It is all tied up in their mis-understanding of homosexuality. They are all convinced it is a choice we make, and that we are going to hell for being gay! Naomi Harvey is a minister of the Lord Jesus Christ, preaching to straight and gay, transgendered and every person that crosses her path. She shares the good news that God loves them, just as they are, without exception. She lives that love in how she treats others.

So how could these people be so cruel and deprive her of a last opportunity to honor Robert’s desire to be laid to rest in the family plot? They told me he would not be buried in a grave owned by a lesbian! So they stole his ashes…and we do not know where they have taken him.

Naomi will not have the ashes to bury, but she has 35 years of memories, and the knowledge that when he knew his life was ending, he came home to mama.



My prayer is that the evil deeds and vicious comments made by Shannon and May Hamilton, will come back to rest upon their heads. Amen! May it be so.

A message to the person who commented on this posting with vile hatred. You said if I really knew Naomi I would not be defending her. The opposite is true. It is because I know her heart, and the heart of the Father that I stand by her. It sounds like you have a heart filled with unforgiveness and condemnation. I pray you will find healing and peace. God has forgiven her, as He has each of us, and we will all meet in Heaven someday.