Becoming His Awesome Beauty: Volume 1



  Becoming His Awesome Beauty: Volume 1

  By

  Sheila Holmes

  Copyright © 2015 Sheila Holmes

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

  Cover by Sheila Holmes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  This is the first book in the Awesome Love Series. I am grateful for the opportunity to begin a new series with some new, complex characters with the same spiritual assets and liabilities as you and me. And all looking for someone to love them “warts and all.”

  Daniel, my precious angel of a husband, continues to encourage me and make me laugh when I get far too serious about my writing. Each morning he makes me laugh before I ever get out of bed, and I’m still laughing at his jokes, funny tales, and impersonations when we retire at night. I’m so grateful for his sense of humor.

  Our adorable daughter, DanniLaii, continues to be my third best friend, right after Jesus and my husband. She is funny like her dad, and is truly a cohort. Having the same sense of humor that her dad has, she has provided me with endless hours of laughter that might never have happened without her. Her spiritual gift of helps is a constant blessing in our lives. I can't think of a better friend than this woman of God. Our prayer is that she will continue reaching to know better the One Who sacrificed His Life to pay her sin debt, and will let Him be the One others see when they look at her.

  Being members of Westover Church in Greensboro, North Carolina has been one of the outstanding contributors to- and blessings of our lives. Pastor Don is ever faithful (over twenty years now) to not only teach us the uncompromising truths of the Bible, but teach us how to flesh out those truths in our lives. We can never thank him enough, and his precious wife, Donna, for the example of their humble lives in Christ.

  My hope is that you truly enjoy this story. If I am able to give you a few hours of "frivolous fun," then I feel like I've accomplished what I set out to do. I hope, of course, that you will thoroughly enjoy this story, and will finish this book with the sense of having added joy to your life.

  Jesus, thank you for your encouragement as I've written. It has been therapeutic. You and I have had some really wonderful times together while unfolding this tale. When I got stumped in some places, not knowing how to express something most effectively, You stepped right in and showed me. I am thankful for your help, and will ever be thankful to You for redeeming me.

  Books by Sheila Holmes

  Wedding Woes Series

  A Wedding Disaster… Or Was It?

  A Catastrophic Wedding Reception… Or Maybe Not?

  Wedding Designed by Email… KiirstiAan's Nightmare?

  Non-Fiction

  With This Ring: Creative Ways to Give Your Purity Ring to Your Future Spouse

  Christmas Romance Plans (How-to) Series

  Christmas Romance: 25 Dazzling Days to Romance Your Spouse 'til Christmas

  The Twelve Days of Christmas: A Romance Plan

  Awesome Love Series

  Becoming His Awesome Beauty: Volume 1

  Becoming His Awesome Beauty: Volume 2

  Fixing His Broken Ballerina: Volume 1

  Fixing His Broken Ballerina: Volume 2

  All in a Name Series

  Joyful, Joyful

  From Grace Abounds Grace (coming Winter 2016)

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Sheila Holmes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Volume 2 Sampler

  About the Author

  "And we know that all things work together

  for good to them that love God, to them who

  are the called according to his purpose."

  Romans 8:28, The Bible.

  Chapter 1

  Her name was Awesome Beauty Truesdale. But, she had hated her name from as far back as she could remember, which was when she was in first grade and a boy in her class had said that her name was stupid. She struck him hard, very hard, then walked away, acting as if she had no idea why that boy behind her was wailing in pain. And, she figured she’d put up with the ridicule from kids in both school and her neighborhood long enough. So when the roll was called on the first day of third grade, she changed it. The teacher was calling the names. When Awesome Beauty Truesdale was called, she told the teacher that she preferred to be called Awsty (the first two letters from Awe-, the “s” from -some, and the “ty” from Beauty). She had come up with it that very morning waiting while the kids were alphabetically called out. Most of the listed last names were called out before hers, and her mind raced to create her nickname before the teacher got to her. When Mrs. Clancy called her, she simply and matter-of-factly requested that she be called Awsty. Mrs. Clancy just smiled and said, “Of course, Awsty.” She scribbled it down in her roll book, and that was the last day she was ever called Awesome Beauty in school. It took a few years before everyone outside of the school ground caught up, including her wild and reckless mother.

  Awsty and her usually drugged-up mom lived in a wretched part of town in a single wide trailer. It held the world’s record for small, and an even higher position (if possible), for filthiness. Awsty was no beloved child. She was simply a responsibility caused through a careless one-night stand by a woman who needed a drug fix and had no other way to pay for it.

  It was a wonder Awsty made it through high school at all. And, she barely did. Not only did her mother not help her with homework, nor pack her lunches, nor provide her with clean clothes to wear, she didn’t care if Awsty went to school or not. She had… what’s the saying… “bigger fish to fry,” like scoring her next drug fix. Basically, Awsty raised herself with no help from the woman who merely gave her an illegitimate birthright, then abandoned her emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. She might have had a nasty makeshift bed in a trailer to sleep in at night, and her mother might have spent some nights there with her, but Awsty was alone, desperately and tragically alone. No one cared about her. Not one person… well, no one but Grammy. But, Grammy was old, and couldn’t possibly have the reserves to provide her with anything she needed. Even her apartment was old, tiny, with barely enough room for herself.

  Three weeks after graduation Awsty turned eighteen years old, and she disappeared. She didn’t resurface until three years later. Her mother had died of an overdose of heroin, but Awsty didn’t find out until months after the fact, when she showed up at her Grammy Truesdale’s apartment.

  What a sight she was, too. Grammy opened the door to a waif dressed in all black, with matc
hing jet black hair that was maybe three inches long all over, and spiked stiffly to its full length. Chains startlingly dripped from all three pockets, only to be rivaled in appearance by the spiked dog collar that was worn around her neck. It wasn’t however, the clothes and hair that kept Grammy stumped as to who this wretched creature was. It was the girl herself. Awsty had a hole in her left ear that was plugged with a one-inch diameter silver medallion with some writing on it that Grammy couldn’t decipher. If that weren’t enough, there were three small tear tattoos that dripped from her right eye, easily discernible through the white foundation and powder that covered her face and neck. Black lipstick and thick drawn on black eyebrows completed “the look.” Well, that is if you don’t count the long pointed black fingernails that looked more like knives than anything else.

  “Yes?” Grammy asked.

  “Grammy, it’s me, Awesome Beauty, well… Awsty now.”

  “Oh child, come in!” Grammy knew exactly who she was when the first word “Grammy” came from her lips, and with that recognition her thin spindly arms grabbed for any part of Awsty that she could claim. Tears immediately came gushing from her old, partially-sighted eyes. Partly from the joy of holding this dear granddaughter again after three years, and partly from the sorrow of seeing the great depths to which this little one had obviously fallen.

  No words were exchanged for almost five minutes, during which time they hugged and cried. Finally, Grammy let go of her hold on Awsty, walked matter-of-factly to the kitchen, grabbed bread, peanut butter, and jelly, from which she fashioned a sandwich, complete with the crusts cut off. She remembered! Then, adding some grapes, and a small handful of cheese curls, she placed the plate in front of the little unfed, unwashed shadow of a girl.

  Before the first word of protest came from Awsty’s mouth, Grammy used her hand to whisk away any comment that didn’t start and end with, “Thanks, Grammy. I’m starved!” And, she truly looked as if she were.

  Without one word of conversation between them, Awsty ate every mouthful, then licked her fingers and drank the entire glass of milk that her grandmother handed her. Grammy counted. It only took Awesome seven seconds to down the entire contents of the old plastic Cinderella glass, which was Awsty’s favorite as a child.

  “Yer stayin’ tonight.” She didn’t ask. She told. Rising up, she took Awsty’s hand, led her to the bathroom, told her to wash her face and hands, then walked on to the guest room, carrying Awsty’s dirty backpack with her. She deposited the backpack on the floor next to the bed, turned down the bed linens, fluffed the pillow, and walked right back to the bathroom. The very moment she arrived at the door, Awsty opened it and came into the hall, where the two women resumed holding hands as they walked to the guest room. It was tiny, half filled with Grammy’s stuff, but it was clean and the bed looked inviting.

  “Sweet girl, climb in bed. There’ll be no more talkin’ ‘til morning. Ya can tell me all about it then. Oh… and in case ya think otherwise, it don’t matter where ya been, what ya done, or who ya done it with that will change my love for ya. Sleep well, knowin’ that the only one who loves ya more than me is Jesus.” After turning out the one small light in the room, she closed the door, leaving Awsty in the Lord’s care.

  “Lord, please let ‘er stick around all night. Don’t let ‘er go nowhere. Thank ya, Jesus, fer bringin’ ‘er home.”

  Chapter 2

  The light might have been off, but Awsty wasn’t ready to sleep. She sat back up in bed and swung her feet over the side. When they touched the floor, she winced and retracted them. The floor was wood and chilly. She stayed facing the same direction, but pulled her legs up and crossed them beneath her on the bed. Reaching up to remove the realistic flesh-colored earring, Awsty stopped mid-movement. The color of the earring that appeared to actually be skin, matched Awsty’s skin tone perfectly. It was pale and had the same pallor of Awsty’s earlobes. If a person didn’t know, they assumed it was actually her lobe, cut and stretched to accommodate the medallion. She didn’t know what the writing meant, but it didn’t matter. She wore this earring for the explicit satisfaction of seeing people’s shocked countenances when they saw it. Not sure why, she decided to leave it in after all.

  Hugging herself tightly with both arms, Awsty began weaving back and forth, something she had been doing for some time now, mostly at moments of extreme stress. Once when she was living on the streets, she and a street friend were wandering one night through a city alley. Midway down on one side, partially hidden by some large produce boxes, sat an old woman, obviously homeless. She had a grocery store cart next to her, filled with her “treasures.” She had one of her legs hooked around one of its legs, helping to keep it in her possession at all times during the night. Awsty was used to seeing the helpless, hopeless people of the streets, so that was nothing new. But what did catch her attention was the way the woman wrapped her arms around herself and wove back and forth. Her motion never stopped, at least the entire time Awsty and Marcy watched. She asked her friend, Marcy, why the woman did that. Marcy didn’t even need to think about it. She jumped in with her abundant wisdom, “She’s crazy, that’s why she’s doin’ that. It’s what crazy people do. You ever see someone doin’ that, you can rest assured they’re nuts! I had an uncle that did that. He died in an insane asylum!” At first, Awsty wasn’t sure if it was true or not about the motion or Marcy’s uncle, but she had said it with such authority, that Awsty assumed it must be true. What concerned her most now, though, was that she was doing that exact same continual movement, and quite often.

  While rocking to and fro, almost working herself into an emotional frenzy, she whispered to herself, “What am I doing here?! Why in the world did I come here?! This is ridiculous! I don’t want to be here! If I wanted to be here, I would have come here a long time ago! There’s nothing here for me! Grammy is letting me stay tonight, but she’ll make me leave in the morning! Why would she let me stay?! The apartment’s too small. I already feel claustrophobic! These walls are closing in on me! I don’t think I can even stay here tonight!… I can’t breathe! I’m gonna pass out and just die, sitting right here on this bed. Grammy’s gonna find my cold dead body right here on her clean sheets, and she’ll hate me for showin’ up just long enough to eat her food and croak. Then, she’ll have to decide what to do with me… burial or cremation… and nobody would come to my funeral… there’s no one I know except Grammy and Mother. And, Mother made it quite clear all those years that she didn’t care about me! That’s even worse than if she hates me. She just doesn’t care one way or the other! But, why would she? I’m worthless. I’m shabby, ugly, stupid, and worthless! Why did Grammy let me stay tonight? Probably because she wants me to be rested and wide awake in the morning when she drops the bomb that she has no intention of letting me stay… she’ll probably tell me I’ve got fifteen minutes to get my backpack, a dry piece of toast, and get my backside out the door!”

  Once no further thoughts or words surfaced, she limply lay down on the pillow, tears still streaming and closed her eyes. Fortunately, she had pulled the blanket over her before lying down, because she almost immediately fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion, and never moved again the entire rest of the night.

  *****

  The wood floor was cold in Grammy’s room also, but that didn’t stop her from kneeling on it, with her elbows resting on the bed, and spending almost two hours of uninterrupted prayer, petitioning the Lord on Awesome Beauty’s behalf.

  “Dear Jesus, my one and only True Friend and Savior, please help this precious prodigal daughter. I can’t make ‘er stay here, but that’s yer job. Let her wake up in the mornin’ with new hope and a sense of belongin’. She needs to know ya! I don’t know how that will come about, but I’ll plant the seeds, if ya help me!

  “I can’t believe the level she’s sunk to, but ya say in Yer Word that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Ya’ve never lied to me before, so I’m gonna believe ya on that!

  “Lord
, I’m not even sure where to begin when it comes to Awesome Beauty. I’ve got so many things to ask ya fer on her behalf. So, here goes. Ya can just stop me when ya’ve heard enough…”

  The clock in the living room marked two hours’ passing when she concluded.

  “Oh, and Jesus, help me ta know when and how ta tell ‘er about ‘er mom’s death.”

  Chapter 3

  Morning came, as it always did. When Grammy called Awsty for breakfast, breath held, she hoped that Awesome Beauty was still behind that bedroom door. She was, and just like yesterday evening, she appeared to be voraciously hungry. Once in the kitchen, Awsty began downing massive amounts of pancakes, with not only two small glasses of orange juice, but a whole eight ounce glass of milk, finishing up with three slices of bacon. My graciousness! Had this child eaten anything since she’d seen her last?!

  Once a hearty breakfast had been practically inhaled by Awsty, breakfast dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, Grammy asked Awesome Beauty to join her in the living room. After each was seated, Grammy opened the conversation, “Awesome Baby Girl, talk ta me.” Those six words opened a geyser only to be rivaled by Old Faithful in Yellowstone Park. First came copious amounts of tears, followed by uneven heaving between breaths, and the ultimate hiccup-sniffles that didn’t stop for almost ten minutes. During all that, Awesome Beauty Truesdale poured her heart out to her grandmother. She left nothing out!

  “Grammy, my life is one ugly mess. I have done such awful things since I left home. I’ve probably tried every drug ever invented. And, even after realizing I hated the effect they had on me, I still used sometimes if someone would give me some, which they did, usually with strings attached. Since I’ve been living on the streets, I haven’t made any friends. Well, actually, I made one friend, Jeff. But he died a month ago from an overdose. I didn’t even know his last name, and when he died, a ‘death car’ from the police department came, hauled his body away, and I have no idea where they took him.” At this declaration, Awsty began wailing again and threw herself into Grammy’s arms, sobbing until there were no tears left to cry. Wiping her now red, soggy nose with the back of her hand, Awsty jumped up and strode to the bathroom, coming back with the entire toilet paper roll from the dispenser next to the toilet. She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, then sat motionlessly staring out the front window, with a faraway, mournful look about her eyes.