Grief is part of the entire spectrum of what makes life sacred. It is a gift from God’s own hand. If we don’t hide from it, it reveals us in wiser, kinder and more compassionate beauty. To avoid it is like trying to circumvent Blythe on the way to the Beachcomber restaurant at Crystal Cove, north of Laguna. Blythe is all part of the wonderful trip. Going through it actually makes your meal at the Beachcomber even more wonderful. But I don’t want to spend an extra day in Blythe; staring at the ceiling in a cheap motel, eating fast food taquitos, until I feel worthy or fit to proceed. I go through Blythe, because trying to avoid Blythe sends me off the Interstate into desolation, sand, snakes and saguaros. No one lives out there.
God is allowing me to drive through Blythe not because he wants me to suffer, but because he adores me. He has a magnificent, full color palette of life ahead. And he has many others who are about to face their own Blythe. He wants me there for them, in my uniquely bizarre manner; to point out which restaurants to avoid, and to describe the stunning meals ahead at the Beachcomber.