Some Kind of Beautiful

It’s weird how the entire day can go one way but then the very end goes in the totally opposite direction.

Today I was going into church (which also doubles as a Christian school) to help Jenny (who’s the principal’s secretary) with secretarial stuffs. I decided to dress up a little; modest, but stylish. Normally I’ll sport a classy-writer or a comfy-country-converse look, but because I was volunteering at a Christian school, I was required to wear a skirt. So, I wore a black pencil skirt and a mint green v-neck long-sleeved shirt with my hair down. Sounds totally normal, right?

I walked into church and the first thing someone says to me is, “Hunter, you just look so beautiful.” I was slightly taken aback…I’m not really used to people telling me that. I mean, yeah, my mom and my grandmother and such tell me, but they’re family; they have to tell me those things πŸ˜› Then, when I walked into Jenny’s office, she told me how much she liked my outfit. I was kind of happy that I had accomplished the difficult task of dressing myself this morning; yeah, I was kinda proud πŸ˜€

Jenny gave me my first task, which was to put together and label and sort all of the report cards. It took me about three hours to complete. Then I went and learned how to use the fantastically entertaining machine that is the paper shredder. The shredder and I spent about three hours together, so of course I had to name the thing: it just wouldn’t be proper if we spent that much time together and had one of us not have a name. I decided to call him Frank. I figured it was simple and I wouldn’t forget it.

Don’t judge me.

So, last night, before everyone came over for the movie night, I was able to tell Maria my story. Everything. It was really nice to have someone here know. Sometimes I feel weird telling people my story because I feel like it’ll change the way they think of me, like I’m the crazy girl who just wants to be with God and never have a man, or something weird like that. But I do just want to be with God. I would be totally content with just being with Him and never getting married or getting into a relationship. He loves me more than any man ever could; He protects me from things I can’t even see. He’s romantic and gentlemanly; He knows when to pursue and when to wait for me. He knows what I need when I need it. He’s just….ah! I can’t even explain it. He’s just…wow.

But while I was shredding paper (I understand this is just a weird place to have a revelation) I realized another thing about God: He never holds me back. I never have to worry about feeling like I’m missing out on something because of what He wants me to do, because what He asks of me is only for the best, to bring me closer to Him, to make me more complete in Him. I may sometimes feel like He’s keeping something from me, or like I’m missing out on something important, but this is because I’m naturally doubtful and rebellious. God wants me to be free, but in a weird way: when I bind myself to Him, and let Him guide my actions and thoughts, it’s the best kind of freedom.

As I continued to shred paper with a smile on my face, many students and teachers passed by, some I knew and most I didn’t. One woman, Cindy, came and laughed with me. Then she came back a few minutes later and asked if my ears had been ringing. Apparently, the junior and senior guys had conversed:

“Hey guys, have you seen the new secretary? Have you seen the new girl?” referring to me.

“She’s beautiful!” Said one guy, putting his fingers to his lips and kissing them. When Cindy finished telling me this, I lost it.

Cindy and I laughed and laughed until our sides hurt. I mean, I was totally flattered, but I just thought the whole thing was hilarious. I forget that not all of the students go to the church in which the school transpires. Oh it made my day πŸ™‚

Then, one of the kids in Rebecca’s class (she’s the K-3 and the music teacher) had an accident, so I walked a plastic bag down to her, though I wasn’t entirely sure how it would help. We stood there talking for a little while when she exclaimed, “Oh no! Watch them!” and then ran out of the room. I turned my attention to the eight little people looking at me, their eyes full of expectations.

I did the only thing that made sense.

“Who wants to play Simon Says?”

When Rebecca finally came back about ten minutes later, she walked in on me and the small chillins spinning around in circles and making funny faces. She told me I should substitute for her sometime.

I continued on with the day, running errands for Jenny, constantly being told how pretty or how nice or how beautiful I looked, and thinking about how much I loved God, listing all of the things I love about Him most.

When I walked into Jenny’s office for the last time before leaving, she told me she would talk to the principal about my subbing for Rebecca when I don’t have class (in other words, if she’s out on a Friday). The job is a paid position. If the principal (who is a very kind and lighthearted man) agrees to let me sub, then I will have a job.

I hate it when God does stuff like this. Here I had been so frustrated that He was making me wait to get a job, and He put one right in front of my face….in a Christian school…around Christian people….Really? Really God? Obviously I haven’t been approved yet, so it could be nothing. But still, just the thought.

Returning to my dorm was daunting, because I had so much research to conduct and so many letters and essays to write and so much reading to do that my brain was fried before I opened the door. Nevertheless, I dug into it all…after skyping my mother and showing her my fabulous leopard-print boot slippers.

The day ended on a sour, frustrating note. I read something that drove me absolutely bonkers…it made me wonder how people could possibly write about the things they do. It made me wonder if innocence really is looked down upon, if convention really is seen as some kind of disease that sets you apart from common society. But what can I do about it? I am in no position to pass judgement on anyone; that’s all on God. I don’t want to be silent anymore…but I don’t know the right way to be loud.

In moments like these, God brings me into Him. He lets me bury my spirit in His arms until I feel safe and comfortable again, not so angry, not so frustrated. He reminds me that, even though I’m beset by confusing stories, damaging tales, and depressed and hopeless characters lost in a world where immorality is celebrated and rebellion and independence encouraged, God is in control of it all. He reminds me of the beauty hidden in this maze, the light shining above the storm.

“Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.”

—Proverbs 31:30, NIV


About newminority16

Hi, my name is Hunter. I very often make random comments about bacon and how chocolate is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy :) So, before I started this blog, I was getting ready to make one of the biggest decisions of my life: college. God led me to go to a secular college in New York City, a place I was deathly afraid of. It's followed me through those years at college straight into married life and becoming a military spouse, all while seeking to following Christ and know God better and share Him with others. This blog is a way for you to go with me through these adventures, through being a Christian in a world that's forgotten its Creator.
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2 Responses to Some Kind of Beautiful

  1. starwarsfreak117 says:

    Nobody ever tells me that I’m beautiful 😦


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