The 20th Thing

Love.

Nov 11, 2023

I started “The Family We Keep” over a year ago out of desperation. I wanted to honor stories of family and other people who did amazing things despite natural imperfections. I truly understood what it felt like to be a child living without most of her extended family members. I often sat alone, like a food outcast, an odd little girl, on the playground eating my odd British lunch. I didn’t understand some of the “ways” outside of my home, but I wanted deeply to connect. I wanted aunties, uncles, cousins, more siblings, my granddad. I wanted his smile, his laugh, his teasing. I wanted to play with my cousins. I wanted.

As I look back on the journey, I can see clearly that that desperation for family, which I carry deep, deep down inside of me, for fear of rejection, is what turned against me. Time and time again. That saying, “be careful what you wish for,” had never rang more true than in 2020.

It became catalyst to my near exit from the earth.

I see hands raised in worship, in desperate love, like that of a child for her mother, in fields of Uganda, the crusades, marching confident love of God in Chicago, on streets in L.A., baptisms in the Portland waterfront. There is a prison ministry, a veteran’s ministry, a homeless ministry, ministries going into conflict. Sign me up, hit the donate button. Did you know there are 32 countries in active wars presently? Do you know that?

I see an amazing suspension bridge, “The Golden Gate,” towers of red rising out of the bay, where 19 not so great “things” lead to a 20th thing. Final destination. The 20th thing, utter isolation in 2020. You can’t find anything truthful about the fact that lost souls were jumping hourly at one point in July 2020. But you can hear it from the amount of cops patrolling the bridge during that time where one of the greatest American revivals began…in the center of that bridge. It became “Let Us Worship.” For over two years souls desperate to know Jesus were labeled “super spreaders” in powerful media and government. Taunted, spat on, equipment destroyed in city after city, nothing stopped the Love that people so desperately sought. People like me.

That first revival, and what followed, stirred something in my heart to live.

"if God is for us, who can be against us?" - Romans 8:31

I see 2020 and I see myself with everything going for me. A great life. I remember when my dad got cancer and I’d eventually tell him about kids with cancer or on days where he couldn’t cope I’d try and tell him how blessed he was. It was true. But. That really sucked. I hate that word but it’s true.

It wasn’t until I didn’t want to be here. On this earth. In 2020. And I can’t type right now so I’ll take a break because I knew I couldn’t do this and the tears are really bad. I’ll be back….

I’m back.

I didn’t understand that my words of “comfort” meant nothing to a man that worried every single time he pee’d.. that blood might appear and life, or death, maybe, would jump out to hit him in the face.

It was revival, then dad, that inadvertently saved me. His eventual death would lead me out. Out of a really dark hole. A light switch.

God was and always has been faithful to His plan for me. I just needed to listen. and I was. listening.

I’ve been so so sad since October 7th. It reminded me and it continues to remind me of the hole that seems so distant but creeps back in to say, “look how good you have it.” I’ll admit, that’s a struggle to hear as it’s whispered into my mind. How good can anyone have it when you can’t talk about pain? When you can’t collectively share world pain? When your own pain, your pain for the world, for the lost, for the innocent, is shoved into a tube labeled nonsense, politics?

Where did common discourse for medical choices, for obvious human suffering for all humans, all around the world, go to? What is happening? What has happened?

From the end of May 2020 to August 2020 I barely moved. Every single day I imagined walking out into the street or on to a busy highway and just ending it. I could not get that picture out of my mind and I knew life would be so much better without me in it. There would be no one left to punish except for my husband who was the only person that sat with me and said nothing. It was his ability to say nothing (which always drove me crazy), that was finally put to good use. What do you say to someone that is struggling and has it all, or has nothing? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was during this time that I knew how much John loved me. I knew that this man had known pain long before I felt this cumulative blow and he was able to hug me tight right where I was. He was a child expert and I was just growing up.

I had never felt that much burning pain.

It wasn’t until a month ago, October 7th,… then the news of a nephew gone so young and seeing my brother sob over the loss of his dearest friend “who had everything,” that it occurred to me you can have literally everything and you live right there inside of your head. Whatever switch goes off, from the 19 hard things around you, there will be and there can be the 20th thing. Like a push over the cliff or a supernatural tug at your body. Arms wrapped around you. I had hung onto that one thing. My Faith.

They didn’t. They didn’t hang on. They’re gone and it’s tragic.

God is so magnificent, so Sovereign, so aware of who I am and the plan for the world and me, that I was curious to live, letting go of all I loved and valued, surrendered, stripped down, stepping into the boat, He as my captain. I can take the pain of pain, of silence that resonated so loud in 2020, 2021 and most of 2022. It’s so familiar. The rejection. The cruelty. Talk about the weather. Turn the other cheek. I have re-learned empathy and grace for others.

Estrangement has lead to a year of seeing my granddaughters at group events mostly and that messes with my brain as it tries to be something it’s not. But let’s not play the game that I don’t feel a complete disconnect and loss of what once was. I guard my heart. Trust God in all of it. See where this good life leads. There is beauty everywhere.

It’s Spring-like now in Southern California.

But. I love the cold, crisp fall. The Autumn leaves that leave me giddy and wanting more. The sense of feeling alive as my breath turns to smokey air and I grab your arm, free to squeeze, speak, love and be loved back, even if we’re different. This is being human. The rush of hot tea, deep talks and closeness. It is God over every little detail in the secure arms of freedom.

No, I dare to walk towards the evening news, dirty from digging in fresh soil, now text-apathetic like everyone else, void of conversational substance, staring blankly at the t.v. to see history repeat itself again. My phone full of texts from things I signed up for to get 15% off.

God was right. Man is broken. We are all broken and we are so so extremely capable of doing the same horrible things over and over and over again.

We are capable of ignorning, dismissing, hurting others far more than loving them, eventually turning off their light. For many it’s as common as an accident, illness or surgery. “Recovery” takes on a whole new meaning once the hand of a doctor, a stranger, signs away your life to a drug(s) that changes who you are. “Mind-numbing” in exchange for pain pills. Eventual medical murder. Or someone you love with all your heart tosses you out and plays their hand to the limit of your understanding. Recovery is long and hard. Then there’s the silent ones doing silent things and people know.

Love, the best medicine given over to man for free.

LOVE can be the 20th thing.

Help is available. #988

Love is free. Every living being needs to know Love. Before it’s too late.

If anyone knows this, it is our Veterans. Thank you is never enough. ox

THE FAMILY WE KEEP | by Deborah T. Hewitt

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