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My husband didn't want his blue-canvas boat shoes to get wet, so while he walked along the dry sand, I sloshed through the foamy beach water in South Daytona Beach, Florida.

Several storms in the Atlantic caused the waves to crash in, one after the other. Along the way, I'd stop, watch their fury, and think back to those days of my youth—growing up near Savannah and body surfing with my friends at Tybee Beach. Sometimes I'd stop to watch the birds running away from the incoming tide, then back again as it ebbed to sea. Other times, I stopped to speak to others who enjoyed the day—the sun and the surf—as much as I did.

But each time I stopped on this day, I glanced over my shoulder to see that my husband had also stopped, stood several yards away, and watched me. Later that day, I mentioned to him that I'd noticed this and that, to my way of seeing it, those stops were his way of saying "I love you" because they showed he would never leave me to stand alone.

"Absolutely," he said. "Very much so."

How like God's Holy Spirit, I mused later. Always there. Always watching. Always protecting. He doesn't hover like a pest, but rather, He remains steadfast and faithful to His nature. Guiding. Safeguarding. Loving. All we must do is stop long enough and look over our shoulder to see.

Too often, we are unaware (or perhaps forget) that God is with us. And yet He is. Always. Don’t ever forget.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and ELG21.)