I, Ivy Magee, stand on the beach. Waiting for Seth Harris.
It’s been five years since I saw him. We’d e-mailed each other since then, but that’s it.
A week ago, Seth sent me an e-mail that asked me to meet him on an Alabama beach that our families used to vacation on when we were in Jr. High.
Being from Bama, it was never a long trip.
My heart is fluttering.
Even when we when were teens and “just friends” he did this to me.
I remember his sky blue eyes and dark blonde hair as I dig my pink pedicure in the soft, white sand.
Seth Harris’ eyes.
He had a ruff ‘n’ tumble cowboy-ness to him, but his heart was sweet.
Seth was a poet’s soul in a bull rider’s body–he’d gotten all A’s in English class in High School.
A crisp, salty breeze sweeps across me as I remember this.
Maybe I shouldn’t have worn shorts with my heather gray long sleeve top–it is October.
I’m so nervous, what if he thinks I’ve changed?
What if he’s changed?
Why am I doing this?
I took this beach meeting offer because I thought I felt a tug of God to do so.
Right now, I’m hoping it was the Creator, and not the cheese pizza I’d eaten that night–because if I make a moron of myself, I’ll die!
I’ve always been known as a klutz, and still am.
God help me.
I’m getting the urge to run home, er, at least to my SUV.
Breath in, breath out, breath. . .
“Hello, Ivy.” I hear a baritone voice.
Breath, breath–don’t turn blue–breath.
“Hi!” I squeak from lack of air.
That was lovely.
Seth smiles as he walks up to me in his blue button-up and faded jeans.
My gut melts into my feet.
I turn to meet him. . .and I stumble over driftwood, ending in a face plant in the sand.
Seth helps me up with a chuckle, “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” I dust off sand, “Watch out for that driftwood.” I quip.
We small talk a while.
“Not much has changed with you,” I smile, “except that.” I point to his goatee.
He just smiles, “Like it?”
I grin, “Yes.”
He looks into my green eyes, “Lots has changed with you.” he brushes a wisp of my dark red hair out of my face.
Oh, no, here comes the let down.
“You’re even prettier than when you were eighteen.” Seth grins his lop-sided grin.
Relief flushes my being.
“Thanks.” I say.
That was a unique line.
We walk down the beach and talked, while the sun sets and casts orange and pink along the horizon. I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other since we were eighteen. It feels like we never parted.
After an hour, Seth reaches down and squeezes my hand in his, and I look into his face that is lit by the little sunlight that’s left.
I see God.
I see a romantic.
I see a hunk!
Ok, lost it there a little.
Well, the tug on my heart was God, not pizza, and I’m glad I listened.
God never lets you down.
And this time I think Seth and I will have more to our relationship than “friends” in God’s good time.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW
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