Sunsets (29 page)

Then the peace came. Not peace like a river, but peace like an ocean—still moving but calmed and rhythmic and no longer raging. It was as if the Lord had finally heard her frantic shouting, and with two words, “Be still,” he had calmed her heart.

Alissa began the long walk back through the sand. As she rummaged through the contents of her straw bag to find her sunscreen, her hand grasped a piece of paper. She pulled it out and read as she walked. The paper contained the words to one of the hymns she had found. She had written it out, planning to memorize it several weeks ago, and then she had forgotten about stuffing it in her beach bag:

Alissa stopped at those final words. God was right there. She knew it. She reread the line, “Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart.”

“I want to know Your heart, God. Keep teaching me, please. It doesn’t seem to get any easier, does it? What am I supposed to do about Brad? I love him. I know he loves me. But I know we’re not ready to get married.”

She walked on, reading the last stanza again and silently praying, “God, I need you to soothe my sorrows and my fears. I don’t know how to do this very well, but I want to learn to trust you.”

When Alissa looked up she realized she wasn’t far from where she had parked the car. She went to put more quarters in the meter. Then she sauntered onto the sand and found a nice open spot to stretch out in the sun. It took no time at all for her to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Sometime later, she stirred on her beach towel, half awake, half asleep. A deep, resonating voice spoke to her softly. “So this is your thinking place,” Brad said. “Well, I’ve been thinking, too. There has to be something in the middle. Not an overnight wedding in Vegas and not a decade of relationship testing. Something sane and wise. A balance of friendship and love, if there is such a thing.”

Alissa didn’t open her eyes. She let Brad’s soothing voice wash over her. A slight smile on her lips let him know she was listening. She wondered how long he had been at her side, thinking, waiting, watching her sleep. Maybe sleeping women were as irresistible as sleeping men.

“All I can say is, I’m sorry,” he went on. “I rushed in without thinking, and I hurt both of us. I guess what I’m saying is, I want to be there for you.”

He paused and then added, “When it comes to dating relationships, my growth has been stunted. I admit it. I’m a klutz. I’ve never been in love. Until now.”

She could tell he was waiting for her to respond, but Alissa waited to see if he had anything else to add. “I love you, Alissa. I want to commit myself to a relationship with you. Only it needs to be a step at a time, not all at once. I think I’m finally beginning to understand that.”

The silence was filled by the sound of the waves rushing in and receding, right on schedule.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Brad asked.

Alissa opened her eyes a slit and looked up into the face she knew she wanted to greet every morning for the rest of her life.

“Well?” Brad asked.

With a playful grin, she closed her eyes again and calmly said, “So, what took you so long?”

To silence those lips, Brad leaned over and kissed her.

“I mean it, Alissa,” Brad murmured. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she said, looking up into his eyes. They were so green, she almost felt she could dive right into them. “You need to know, Brad, that you are the first man God has ever granted access to my true heart. The only one.”

A confident look crossed Brad’s face. “I know that,” he said.

She stood up and took his hand. Overhead, the evening sky surrendered to the Master’s paintbrush. “Come on,” she challenged. “Let’s go down to the water.”

Slowly, silently, and with contentment, they walked together to where the sunset, alive with vivid reds, oranges, and pinks, met the edge of the Pacific.

There, hand in hand, Alissa and Brad moved toward the sunset, the way a bride goes forth to meet her beloved.

Alissa’s Bongo Fest Potato Salad
 (sans pickles)

Every summer, around the Fourth of July, I miss my mother-in-law something fierce. Kay used to make the best potato salad for all our summer family gatherings. My husband let me know our first summer together that the nicest gift I could ever give him would be if every summer, for the rest of his life, I made potato salad the way his mom made it.

I followed Kay around the kitchen on the afternoon of July 3rd for several years in a row, taking notes in an attempt to learn her secrets.

“No secret to my potato salad,” she told me. “Unless it’s the onions. Nice big onions. Sweet ones, if you can find them. Make sure they’re chopped up real fine. And no pickles. Of course you want to be generous with your salt and pepper. And make sure your celery is fresh. Snapping fresh. That’s all. No secrets. Oh. Maybe one secret. I only use real mayonnaise.”

In chapter eleven of
Sunsets
, when Alissa decided to contribute something to the picnic before the Bongo Fest, I knew right away she’d bring the potato salad. And I knew exactly how that potato salad would taste. Now you can, too!

The ingredients are listed with approximate amounts since this potato salad is like Brad and Jake’s Bongo Fest: it works best if you create as you go along. Feel free to improvise!

Boil six to eight large potatoes in their skins in a covered pot until they are tender. Chill the potatoes for several hours. Peel and cut them in small cubes.

Season well with salt and pepper, cover and place in the refrigerator for one hour or more

Add about 2 cups of mayonnaise mixed with about 3 tablespoons of mustard. Mix well. Sprinkle paprika on the top and keep covered in the refrigerator.

By the way, this potato salad almost always tastes better the second day. So plan to make it a day before your next summer outing.

Join Jessica, Terri, Lauren, Alissa, Shelly, Meri, Leah, and Genevieve as they encounter love, life, and a growing faith in the small town of Glenbrooke.

Read excerpts from these books and more at
WaterBrookMultnomah.com
!