I woke up on Tuesday, August 24, a bit earlier than I would have liked, to my dad patting my shoulder and handing me roses and a handmade card (clearly from Scott), with the nonchalant explanation that “these came at the door for you.” He left with little other explanation to my still-sleepy self.
What was going on? I smelled the roses and opened the card. In Scott’s typical silly fashion, it told me to get up, "get dressed cute (as in really cute--but quickly!)" and then hurry to the next location (the oven in my house). Odd, I know. But that’s my boy. It also had a few lines about how he loved spending time with me and couldn't wait for our next unexpected adventure.
As you may imagine (especially if you're a girl), my mind was running every which way and my heart was racing just as fast to keep up (But Scott knows me, thank goodness, and decided it was okay for me to suspect his plans for a little while and get some of this out of the way). Somehow, though, I managed to get ready, putting on a little makeup and perfume and Scott's favorite dress of mine (he had teased me once, "Hey, if you ever think I might propose, you should wear that dress." Maybe I was being silly, I thought, but I put it on anyway).
My bare feet on the hardwood floor seemed the only sound in the empty house as I walked into the kitchen to the oven (Where were my parents anyway?). In the oven was another card, made to look like a cookie (complete with chips). Before instructing me to sign in to Facebook ("the esteemed social networking site"), this note reminisced about our very first days ever hanging out, baking cookies together, when Scott's brother Mark would "fall asleep" and leave just the two of us to talking ("back when you were just the cute college girl i shamelessly flirted with."). He reminded me of how thankful he was that God put me in his life in the first place.
On Facebook, I found the next note, which again reminisced about our earliest days, and Facebook threads that were hundreds of messages long. He admitted that even sometimes at school (his senior year of high school) he would hurry to the library computers to see if I had written back to him yet that morning (and as it usually was, I likely had) and hurry home from practice wondering what I'd written. He wondered if we ought to thank Facebook even for the first message he sent telling me he liked me (pathetic and poorly written, he thinks it now, but nonetheless part of "our story"). He pointed out the qualities he loved about me then, and his hope to receive many more messages from me in the future.
Amidst my nervousness, I smiled as my heart basked in the quirky beauty that was our God-written story together.
The next note was in my car, "where we first held hands." This one was shaped like a hand, or really two hands that came together at the fold ("This one is weird, Son," Scott's dad had admitted to him teasingly the night before). This card, aside from it's punny note that I was now a palm reader (haha), was a little more bold and to-the-point. "...I hope to get to hold your hand for the rest of my life." My heart beat even faster, and I did my best to breathe as I drove to the next directed location: The swings at Cub Lake (one of my/our favorite places in my hometown) where Scott had asked me to be his girlfriend two years before.
I parked in front of the swings and got out. Glancing over my shoulder, I thought I saw Scott's car pulling out of the somewhat full parking lot. Where could he be going? But there was a little folded paper on the swing, for "Jessay" (Scott's old nickname for me). I opened it with fumbling hands.
This note was shorter. It held a quick one of his "you are:" lists (beautiful, my best friend, my sweetheart, an example of God's love, etc.) and then only a Bible verse--
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change."
Then a last note:
"Look up."
I looked a little too far up actually (the sky, the top of the swing set...). He said he had almost written "not that far up" but didn't want to ruin the moment. I glanced around uncertainly. Finally he emerged from behind the playground, dressed nicely and holding his Bible. I was relieved a little just to finally see him, as he smiled nervously and gave me a strong hug...and then dropped to one knee, one hand still holding me by the waist. It seemed like a dream (or maybe slow motion) as I heard his words and watched him pull out that little black box from the pocket of his slacks. The ring sparkled brilliantly in the Tehachapi sun. I nodded as I firmly held my hand to his at my waist. "Yes!"
True to form, he asked, "Are you sure?" to which I laughingly responded, "Yes!...Should I be? Did you ask my dad?" He had, and my parents were in fact waiting to make us a celebratory breakfast, before we would head off for a full day at Disneyland.
But for now, we reveled in the joy and emotion of the moment we had both waited for, praising God for his love and ours, and his direction of our lives and our story.
Just a few days before, on our second dating anniversary, Scott had written in the handmade anniversary card his promise that it would be the last dating anniversary card he would write to me. At the time, of course, I hadn't expected that he would come through so quickly! I guess he's a man of his word.
