The Makeover

  THE MAKEOVER

  By

  Vacirca V. Vaughn

  AMAZON EDITION

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Vacirca V. Vaughn on Amazon

  The Makeover

  Text copyright © 2012 Vacirca V. Vaughn

  All Rights Reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  The Makeover

  Dedication

  First and foremost, all glory and thanks goes to the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ, who died for all of our sins. Thank You Father God for restoring me to Your purpose for my life, through Jesus. Thank You Holy Spirit for gifting me this parable which is designed to entertain, even as it preaches the Gospel. Let it be fruitful and multiply. Thanks to the pastoral staff at Times Square Church in New York City for leading us according to the Word of God. Many thanks to J.J. Murray for all of your feedback and writing lessons. Thanks to my friends for your encouragement and support as I took a leap of faith to start writing again after ten years in the mental health industry: Anthony, Georgiana, Tatiana, Alex, and the rest of my VNS peoples. Thank you Altar Workers Intercessory Prayer Ministry for your intercessions on my behalf, and Ms. Catherine for being my spiritual mom. Thank you, Momita (my mother Marie Mimosa Vaughn) for your patience and support. Thanks to Marvin for being the brother who spends hours listening, even when he couldn’t care less about what I’m rambling about. Thanks Zulay, for allowing me to practice my writing skills on you.

  Please note that I use scriptures at the beginning of each chapter. Most of the scriptures were taken from the New Living Translation, while others were taken from the New International Version.

  This “parable” is near and dear to my heart because it addresses two major issues in my life: self-esteem and prayer. As a woman who has battled with the bulge, I know what it’s like to struggle with such issues. As an intercessory prayer warrior who serves on that ministry in church, I know what it’s like to face spiritual battles that only prayer can overcome. For most, I pray this work will inspire you all to remember to pray. For others, I pray it inspires you to take good care of your bodies, which God has trusted to you. For all, I pray it draws you closer to Jesus Christ. God bless you all.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part I—The Challenge

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Part II—The Battle

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  PART III—The Test

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Maybe God has a reason for making me so ugly, she thought. I’ve always wanted to be beautiful. Why did He make me like this?

  As she had every night since he left, she was standing in front of her lighted vanity mirror, as if in a trance. Her eyes skimmed her face, every blemish a wound in her spirit. She turned her face from right to left and stared at the raisin-colored cheeks. The rough texture of her scarred skin caused her eyes to well up with tears.

  She took off her nightgown and looked at her chest, dotted with faded brown spots, reminders of her adolescent chicken pox. Her eyes traveled up and down the roadmap her stretch marks had drawn over her shoulders, arms, and protruding belly.

  That’s the roadmap to hell tattooed on my body. Her eyes reddened as the bitter thought ricocheted through her heart.

  Her fingers traced the beige squiggles. She touched her breasts, one short and full, the other long and thin, marveling at how they could sag so much at her age of thirty-three. “And I haven’t had kids yet!”

  She turned to the side and watched her belly hang down like an apron over her legs. Her stomach was large, as round and bulky as any woman who was expecting a child within the next few weeks. Many times, whenever she chose yet another unflattering outfit, people would often ask her when she was expecting. Too embarrassed to correct them, she would simply allow herself to get caught in the fantasy that she was expecting her first child, and that there was a husband at home who loved her and was just as excited as she was. Other times she would tell people that her stomach was that huge because she’d just had a baby.

  As it often did, her heart broke as she compared the proportions of her huge, rippling belly to her exceedingly slender hips, bowl-shaped behind, and long flat feet. “God, if I didn’t look like this, maybe then he would have loved me, would have appreciated me.”

  Her lips trembled as they curled in disgust.

  “You really didn’t give me anything to work with, did you God? If You were going to give me bad skin, at least You could have given me a nice shape! I have done everything possible to get myself to lose this weight, to get my skin clear. But look at me. Why when I gain weight it is all in one area? What do they call it? An apple shape? Humph. The apple that is the downfall of every woman, isn’t it?”

  Defeated, she snatched her eyes away from the mirror, unable to look further.

  “Who would want me looking like this?” she shouted at the ceiling.

  Not getting an answer, as usual, she walked over to her bed, grabbed her bottle of vodka and drank until the revulsion in her stomach settled. She felt the liquor burn away the helplessness. The feeling of being invisible, in a world where women were valued by their beauty first, was burned away by the fire. She drank away the conviction that she would always be alone because of something she could not control.

  As the liquor blurred the sharp angles and images of emotion, it did not dull the thoughts. It was all God’s fault. He knew it. And she knew it. If the pity in everyone’s eyes was any indication, they all knew it too.

  Wow, she really wasn’t blessed in the looks department, was she? Their eyes would whisper.

  She hated looking into the eyes of people. She hated knowing that they had already made a decision about her before she opened her mouth to speak an intelligent word.

  “I hate how everyone treats me, God!” she screamed before taking another swig.

  But even the liquor was powerless to keep her mind in that numb place where it was acceptable to blame others for her problems.

  Even as her drink fought against the thoughts, the fear remained. It was a constant nightmare of being trapped in a body she would never escape from.

  And Fear became her lover that night, replacing the one that had walked away. Fear’s fingers traced the lines on her arms. It caressed the dimples in her legs and the fleshy parts of her stomach. Fear whispered things in her ear, telling her that no one would ever love her. Not even the God that had made her.

  “God
, I know You don’t love me,” she slurred. “Who could possibly love me when I look like this?” she whispered, as she passed out on her empty floor.

  Part I—The Challenge

  Again there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan also came among them to present himself before the Lord. And the Lord said to Satan, “Where have you come from?” Then Satan answered the Lord and said, “From roaming about on the earth, and walking around on it.” (Job 2:1-2)

  The Lord said to His fallen son, Satan, “What brings you here?”

  Satan sauntered to the Throne, his face fixed in a rigid sneer. “I have come to claim what’s mine, once and for all. You intend to bless this…Paulo with a wife?”

  “What of it?” The Lord responded. “It is his time. Although he has suffered greatly, and has faced many losses, he has been faithful. It is now My time to restore to him what I have allowed to be stolen. Since he has delighted himself in Me, I will grant him the desires of his heart.”

  Satan angrily paced, frustrated, as he remembered the way Paulo had refused to turn from God. Satan had been permitted to test Paulo to the point of great loss almost a decade earlier. In spite of Satan’s efforts, Paulo had remained fixed in the Lord and had, in fact, grown in many areas of his walk with Jesus.

  The Lord continued. “I am preparing his new wife as we speak.”

  Satan’s laughter was gritty as he regarded the King of Kings with narrowed eyes. “Of course Paulo continues to serve You. You have already blessed him greatly.”

  The Savior leaned forward and said, “But it has not been without great trials and suffering. He has overcome them, yes, but he went through them first.”

  Satan laughed. “Words. Nothing but words. This wife, this so-called blessing You have planned for him, is she not one of mine? I was under the impression that Your children and mine were not to be unequally yoked. That is what Your Bible states, isn’t it?” Satan sneered.

  “She is not one of yours. She gave herself to Me years ago,” Jesus answered calmly. He was already aware of where the adversary was headed in the conversation and was prepared. “And let me remind you that the Word states that once I give them eternal life, they shall never perish. Nothing can separate them from My love or snatch them out of My hand.”

  Satan rolled his eyes and clucked his tongue. “So true, so true. But, Jesus, I am unclear. Was it not You who also stated In Your Word, ‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth?’ Was it not You who stated that a person cannot have one foot in the world and one foot in the kingdom? Has not this Phoenix done just that? She is now mine!”

  The Lord God, observing His fallen son, shone brighter with indignation. “Do you really believe you can take her out of My Son’s hand?”

  “She is already lost to you! Release her soul to me where it belongs. She has no use for You. She only longs for the desires of her heart, which I can easily grant her,” Satan snapped as the Heavenly Hosts murmured.

  “Her heart has not been hardened. She still prays. She has lost her way, but I have already begun to call her back. I am preparing to answer her prayers and restore her to salvation,” the Father answered. “She is also being prepared to become a blessing to My son Paulo.”

  “Surely, You, the God who boasts about being fair and just, would not take from me what is mine!”

  Jesus turned to the Father God and responded, “Father, Phoenix is already part of the Kingdom and is part of Your eternal plan for Paulo. Let not this adversary accuse her. She has fallen, but I will restore her.”

  God was silent as he regarded his fallen. After what seemed like several hours, the Lord responded. “If you feel you can snatch her out of My hand, you may try. I will proceed with My plan, but I am permitting you to oppose it. If she does not return to My Son, she is yours.”

  Satan straightened his spine and allowed himself a satisfied smile. “And this Paulo of yours?”

  “You may test his faith in Me to provide the greatest desire of his heart. I am permitting you to test whether or not Paulo will maintain a true faith in My promises, in spite of what has transpired in the past,” God answered with authority. “You may test him and Phoenix to determine their faithfulness.”

  Gleefully, Satan let out a roar of pleasure, and returned to his kingdom on earth.

  So it began…

  Chapter 1

  For nothing is hidden that will not become evident, nor anything secret that will not be known and come to light

  (Luke 8:17).

  On a blistering Thursday evening, her world fell apart.

  Before that happened, Phoenix stumbled into her building. Breathless and annoyed that her fiancé was not answering the bell, or picking up the phone, Phoenix dialed her apartment phone number three more times.

  “Where is that boy?” she snapped at the air, demanding an answer that would not come. She tried the number a final time. Her anger created a tight fist in the pit of her stomach.

  “Every time I need him, he isn’t there. But let him need something, he’d blow up my phone every few seconds.” She jabbed at the buzzer and held it for several seconds.

  Sucking her teeth, Phoenix began the task of dragging several heavy grocery bags into the building, in addition to her school backpack, and the large tote bag she’d used for work. She was seething, but once she got every bag into the lobby, the relief washed over her like a waterfall. She was grateful to leave the sweltering Harlem street pulsing behind her.

  “This day just won’t quit,” she mumbled as she grabbed several bags and dragged them to the elevator. At work, her boss kept screaming at her about missed deadlines and an overall lack of initiative. She had lost her twenty dollar bill when she had only intended to spend two at a pizza shop during lunch. She had gone to her afternoon class without her notes, making it nearly impossible to complete her class presentation on developmental illnesses in children. Her professor had given her a C minus.

  “Humph, this day can’t be over fast enough” she snapped, as she bent over and dragged the last of the heavy bags down the narrow hall. She didn’t see the tall man stepping out of the elevator. She backed into him. When she felt his hard knees against her backside, she swung around and slammed her shoulder into his hip, before falling backwards onto the floor.

  “Whoa there!” the man chuckled. “Need some help?”

  Phoenix looked up as heat crept into her cheeks. Of course, she would have to back her wide behind into some strange man’s legs. And yes, it was only fair that he would be tall, and gorgeous, and wearing an amused smile, while she looked a hot mess.

  “Uh, sorry,” Phoenix choked out.

  The tall, amber-eyed man smiled in a way that fueled the quivering in Phoenix’s middle. She became trapped in the force field of the man’s gaze. His golden eyes radiated with a glow from somewhere deep within. Phoenix forgot to be embarrassed. It was strange, really, how the man’s presence caused sweat to bubble on her upper lip. It was downright ludicrous the way his eyes seemed to illuminate the dank hallway.

  Oh…wow. Phoenix gulped and stared.

  “Well, do you?” The man said, stretching out his hand to Phoenix. She gazed at it for several seconds before realizing she was supposed to take it. The man bent and clasped her hand to pull her up.

  “Uh, um, thanks,” she stammered, as electric pulses charged up her arm. “Uh, do I, uh, what?”

  “Need some help with your bags?” The man nodded at the bags at Phoenix’s feet. When she continued to ogle him, he tilted his head and let his eyes skim Phoenix from head to toe. It wasn’t a flirtatious look, but more of a quizzical one. It was as though her were trying to find the missing word in a particularly arduous cross word puzzle.

  “Uh, no. I got it thanks,” Phoenix answered, dragging her belongings onto the elevator. “Thanks, uh, for holding the, uh, door.” sh
e continued after lugging on the last bag.

  “God bless you,” the man smiled and winked.

  Phoenix blinked. “Uh, yeah…um…thanks?”

  The man chuckled and nodded. “You’re welcome,” he murmured before releasing the elevator door.

  Once it closed, Phoenix sighed and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. Then she swore. “I’m look like I’ve been beaten by the ugly stick and I bump into him? This is a day truly crafted in Hell.”

  Her mind revisited the hellish events of the day. The last straw was when she agreed to meet her two best friends for happy hour after her class. Phoenix met her friends at their favorite hangout, Blockheads, the small Mexican restaurant on Amsterdam Avenue. It was supposed to be their time to go over the final plans for Phoenix’s wedding and celebrate. Instead, she had spent the entire evening feeling invisible. Men continually approached their table to talk to either to Nicola or Sandra. They kept sending over cocktails for the pair, kept complimenting the two beauties. Phoenix felt silly. Why had she been practically faint with jealousy, when she was getting married in less than two months? As much as she’d tried to relax and enjoy herself, no amount of tequila could soothe the sting of being rejected. Not one of the men had looked her way.

  Not one.

  The only blessing had been when she remembered that the only food she had in her refrigerator included a near-empty tub of butter, a week-old Subway sandwich, and an egg. She was relieved to use such an urgent excuse of having to go to the grocery store to end her evening early. At least she could leave without lying to her friends. She was finally home two hours earlier than her usual ten-thirty. All she could think about was getting to her apartment, seeing her fiancé, curling up in his arms, and having herself a good cuddle.