My Magical Engagement (Part 1 of 3)

On the evening of June 21st, 2005, I discovered that God, although the established author of a bestselling narrative, is also a romance novelist. Jason and I were eating at the waterfront Annapolis Charthouse to celebrate seven months of dating. The sun slowly dipped toward the horizon as its rays danced upon the Chesapeake. Boats bobbed up and down with the gentle waves and a warm breeze sent their lines a-swaying. Inside the restaurant I sat across from the man I wished to dine with for the rest of my life. And though normally talkative, I found myself rather taciturn and a bit nervous this night.

Jason had dropped hints months earlier regarding the importance of this particular anniversary. I anticipated that before it was over, he would probably address the issue of my naked ring finger. So far, all was going well. The food was delicious and Jason had arranged for the waitress to present me with several yellow red-tipped roses (my favorite flowers) throughout the meal. I smiled wryly at Jason as I received each one from her hand. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary date.

After paying our check, Jason suggested that we change clothes before visiting one of our special places - Greenberry Point. I eagerly pushed open the wooden door to the ladies’ room. Goodbye heels! Hello tennis shoes! Greenberry Point was a nature preserve located on a peninsula that faced the Chesapeake Bay Bridge on one shore and the city of Annapolis on the other. Prior to our romantic relationship, Jason had introduced the park to me and a mutual friend. He had even confided that he one day planned to propose to his future wife there. When we started dating, he and I often sauntered along its sandy paths and watched the water from our favorite wooden bench.

After changing, we drove from the restaurant to the Point. Once parked, we strolled hand in hand toward the preserve’s main entrance. But to my surprise, Jason seemed to be passing it! This couldn’t be right! I gently pulled him toward the gate. Jason turned and said with a smirk, “Now where do you think you’re going?”

So much for a subtle hint. “Aren’t we going to visit our bench?” I asked. Surely he wouldn’t break our tradition.

“Oh, not yet. I thought this time I’d show you some parts of Greenberry Point you’ve never seen before.” With that, he smiled confidently and led the way toward a different path on the opposite side of the park.

After walking a few hundred yards, Jason retrieved a Bible and some bug spray he’d hidden and then introduced me to a large tree whose branches nearly dipped into the bay. We climbed onto a low-hanging bough and breathed deeply as the bay breeze combed through the leaves. “This is beautiful,” I remarked. “We should have come here before.”

We talked to God together, thanking Him for creating such a gorgeous day and asking Him to direct our steps. I would have been content to stay suspended over the water, but Jason said we had places to go and things to do while it was still daylight.

Our second stop was located atop a man-made sea wall. Thick logs bordered by large rocks formed a barrier to protect the land from the crashing waves. Jason stepped gingerly onto one of the wooden beams and held my hand securely as I followed. We sat and watched the breakers dash white against the shoreline while the wind played with my hair. “You’re so beautiful,” Jason murmured as he admired the work of the breeze. “Thanks,” I replied quietly.

Jason pulled out the Bible he’d been carrying and started flipping through the thin pages. “I’ve been thinking a lot about joy lately,” he said, “and I wanted to share some insights with you.” I made myself comfortable and listened through the roar of the waves as Jason read seven passages about God giving true joy to those who’d often failed Him. I was encouraged to be reminded of God’s loving faithfulness toward His people. At length, Jason looked up from the book and reached for my hand. “Let’s go back to the path.”

As we walked together, Jason seemed to possess a quiet determination about him. I was certain that all this creativity was crescendoing to something I’d only ever dreamed about, and the anticipation was making me jittery. To dispel my anxious energy, I suddenly broke our mutual contemplation with, “I’m in a mood to jog.” Surprised, Jason laughed as we trotted to our next stop. Our arms swayed by our sides in rhythm with our shoes as they pounded the path. Soon a wooden bench (not ours) came into view. I plopped down with a loud, “Whew!” as Jason sat next to me.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked.

“No (gasp) thanks,” I said, catching my breath.

“Well I am,” he announced as he reached under the bench, procuring a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a wedge of smoked Gouda cheese. I giggled.

“Just thought we’d have a little ‘wine’ and cheese tasting party,” he said as he unwrapped the foil from the green bottle-top. We both snacked, enjoying our view of the Bay Bridge. We didn’t linger long, however. Jason deposited the small picnic along with the Bible and bug spray he’d been toting back under the bench and headed for the trail.

We plodded on for a few minutes before finding another wooden bench (also not ours) located near the tip of the peninsula. Jason sat me down and asked me to close my eyes. When I was permitted to open them, they grew wide in amazement. Inside a wicker basket by Jason’s feet were dozens of yellow red-tipped roses, each with a small note tied to its stem! Jason started handing them to me, reading the notes aloud. “These are the things about you that bring me joy, Kate,” he said softly.

“When you smile, when you sing to me, when you leave long voice messages, because your eyes grab my heart, because you laugh at yourself, when you laugh at my jokes…” Jason gave me one rose at a time. My small pile began to grow.

“…When you point me to our Savior, when you put your hair up, when you let your hair down, when you hold my hand, because you can whisper and shout…” I felt honored, cherished, and then comforted as a quiet thought whispered through my mind: “If Jason, a sinful man, can take such delight in me, how much more would a perfect God?”

Note after note was read until he finally came to number 77: “Because you are wonderful to behold.”

We sat silently for a few moments. “Thank you,” I said meekly.

“Of course. I love you, Katie,” Jason replied, draping his arm around me. We put the roses back into the basket and Jason scampered through the bushes to hide them once more.