Deteriorated-Installment 6 November 21, 2008

I know I haven’t updated in awhile.  The comment on the last post has been one reason why.  I didn’t know how to approach the blog after such a misundertsanding of what I was trying to express.  So I’ve decied to finally update my story.

Just as a side note, I’m going to submit my little bit for publishing.  It’s a big risk for me.  Pray that I don’t get murdered.

You need to pay…

I run past her because I do not want to speak to her.  I, Milagros Amanda Farias, do not want an exchange of words with Madeline.  She doesn’t notice of course.  She is busy pushing her way back into someone else’s life.  I have things to do.  I have to get onstage for worship.  I’m singing back up today.  We are supposed to be praying now.  I hope I haven’t missed it.
I run up the stairs and push the red curtain back and see the band in a circle.  I push my way into the circle by grabbing Elizabeth’s hand and Charles’ hand.  I try to concentrate while Charles seems to be playing with my hand.  He somehow gets his hand comfortable with his pinky hanging out, but while he was getting there, I had become very unfocused.
“Why is she here?”
“Why has she come back in our world?”
“What does she want?”
“What is her motive?”
“Why can’t she leave us alone?”
“Why can’t she disappear?”
While I contemplate these ideas, praying seems to wind down.  My thoughts are disturbed by an amen.  I have missed prayer.
It’s time to get on stage and as I walk to the mike, I sneak a peak at the crowd.  No way.  She’s sitting next to Edward.  That’s my seat. As his girlfriend, my place is beside him. She doesn’t belong there.
As I sing, I cannot help but watch.  Watch her give him a hug.  Watch her whispering to him.  Watch her giggle at his reply.  I am angry, yet I keep on the calm cool demeanor of worship.  Inside, I’m twisting.  I feel something boiling to the surface.  Right now, I hold it down.  Just for now…
Another amen and I have been distracted again.  Worship time is over.  I walk offstage, to the back door, around, and then back behind the audience.  I find a seat in the closest to the sound board.  I sit in the semidarkness and let loose my thoughts.  Now, I’m watching them from the back.  Watching her whisper in his ear.  The ear that I should be whispering in.  I see her shift in my chair.  My seat.
Why is she here?  She left us.  She chose her path and it wasn’t to our door.  She chose to dabble and experiment.  She chose new friends.  I was abandoned.  I mean, she abandoned us.  Yet, she’s here now.  In my spot, by his side. In my place.
I hear an amen and I know that I have missed the message.  The pastor has been at the front talking for a half hour and I cannot recall any of it.  I sit with my head in my hands.  What have I done?  Everyone is standing up to leave.  A paper falls into my lap and I see Pastor Ken walk past.
I open the paper.

Deteriorated-Installment 5 March 30, 2008

Chapter 2
The Game of…
I feel like life can be one huge football game. We are at the line of scrimmage and you are facing off against the opposing team. You see their quarterback giving the play and you are trying to anticipate their action. You stand before each other and are waiting for them to move. You are waiting for them to act. In a split second, movement commences and everyone is scrambling. You’re moving this way and that, but are only able to see a beautifully executed plan go straight through your wall of defense. Your crushed. Your defeated.
How many times have we seen the same things happen to us when the people we love the most, hurt us the worst? How their words and actions are able to hit us were it hurts because we are unable to defend. We let our guard down. Yet, how many times have we seen a defense learn from their mistake and strengthen their resistance? The same is with us. We don’t want to be humiliated again and appear weak. We put up our wall.
The game plan: to touch the untouchable. The coach has commissioned us to go full tilt into the darkness and save those who are destined for death. To break down the walls and be a bridge from God’s heart to human hearts everywhere. To take those who are unloved and make them feel loved. To touch their hearts and make them feel connected to the body of Christ. This idea is supposed to override any of our actions and motives as a part of the leadership team.
Yet, can’t we take a good look at ourselves and say we are winners. I see our own walls and gaping wounds. I’ve known the pain of defeat and I can see pain in my own team mates.

Deny yourself.
But I’m hurting.
Deny Yourself.
I can’t see past the tears.
Deny Yourself.
It’s too much.

Yet, we have to push past the pain. Let ourselves be open and defenseless. We have to go against our human nature and natural instincts. We have to deny our own feelings and leave ourselves open to attack. Fights with our brothers, girlfriends, and friends have to be put to rest as we work with these same souls towards our common goal.
At times, I sit in the building or in the sanctuary. I look at the stage and wonder about our accomplishments. I look at the faces around me, sitting in the crimson chairs. Saved by the blood. Yet, shedding our own and each others.
I wonder if we understand the consequences of our actions. Can we save a soul while condemning another?
Is it awful that I sit at our services and meetings and ponder these thoughts?

Is it worse not to realize it at all?

Deteriorated-Installment 4 March 10, 2008

Two for the price of ONE!!! I just want to get what I already have while I’m editing the the newest part.

 As Cold As…
It’s cold.  I hate the cold.  Edward loves the fall and winter, but I don’t see why.  Snow is nice, but the cold doesn’t agree with me.  I have the blades on my feet and I’m slightly anticipating stepping onto the ice.  Okay, so maybe I’m not a full winter hater.  I do love ice skating.  I don’t know why, but I do.
I step onto the ice and my first couple of moves are tentative.  I brace myself for a fall that never comes and then, surprisingly, I’m relaxed.  I move fluidly on the ice, sometimes jerkily, but mostly fluidly.  There’s something about ice skating that I can’t explain, but somehow my soul leaps at the chance to sail upon the ice.
I speed up.  I slow down.  I watch as my skates cut a thin line in the ice. I see how the ice almost welcomes the blade.  It seems to melt a layer away and allows the blade to come further into it’s body. It’s allowing the blade to search it and become a part of it.
I lift my face up to the sky with my arms held out.  I have let Edward and the rest of my group to go and do what they please, but here am I.  I am me.  For this precious moment, I feel free.  I feel like I can soar past all of the ugliness that is trying to touch me and just be me.  I speed up.  I pump my legs and then glide.  Blade to ice.  Ice to blade. One.

To Break Through the…
I try a hockey stop and have ice spray all over my friends.  They are laughing and now beginning to skate away, but I know they will come back to try to get even.  I skate slowly as I scan the crowd for Milagros.  When I see her I almost stop.
I see her skating with all her heart as she goes faster and faster.  She has this brightness in her eye that shows her life, a life that has been missing lately.  Like the sun breaking through the clouds, I see this new life shine through.  She lifts her face upwards and has the biggest smile I have ever seen.  She lifts her hands up and it seems like she is trying to spin around.
I see a wobble and then she hits the ground.  I hurry over to her.  I hope she isn’t hurt.  When I get there, I find that she is laughing, this full laugh that makes me laugh with her.  She stretches her hands out to me and I grab them.  I pull her up and when she gets on her feet she looks straight into my eyes.  Her face is glowing with some kind of energy that has been missing for quite some time.  Her eyes.  Her smile.  Her laugh.
This is what I fell in love with.

Deteriorated Installment 3 January 18, 2008

Another Day…….
I look over at Edward and I smile.  He’s in the corner of the room, talking with all of our friends like always.  It’s always the same after every meeting.  The group breaks up into it’s cliques.  We are supposed to be united, but the opposite seems true.  We stay in these groups and our lives revolve around them.  Maybe there are a few who drift in and out of the groups, but mostly the groups are permanent.  Memberships change, but overall everything is the same.
I feel like I have special access to these cliques.  Most of these people have been together their whole lives, while I am only a blip on the radar screen of their history.  Yet, it allows me this awkward outsider access.  I am a part of this group, but not.  They just seem like another acquaintance.  Just another name on the list of people I know.  It just seem fake.
Edward is different.  He doesn’t have this awkwardness like I.  He is a part of the group.  He has that membership card that I lack.  He was born into this church.  He was born into this group.  He has a lifetime access to this family.  The hardest part is that since we began dating, I feel like I’ve been granted extra privileges. This relationship has given me a new status and an upgrade from outsider to slightly inside.
I walk around.  I converse a little here and a little there, but not really connecting to much.  Not allowing that extra time to connect.  Just enough.  I’m the great actress who makes you believe in what is false.  You believe you know me and have access to this private life of mine, but you are mistaken.  You are not given access just like you refuse access.
I make my way to Edward’s group and let myself into his circle.  Partially in the group, but partly excluded because of the physical diameter of the circle.  I listen to the friendly banter and just soak it in.  I may have a comment or two, but I keep it to myself. I listen, but keep exploring the grouping that unveils in front of me. I see Mitch, Jake, Nelle, Jen, and Ava sitting together.  Mitch and Jake are doing something that Nelle and Ava find hysterical, but that I may just find gross and maybe a little sexual.  I look over to Elizabeth and Arnold talking together, deep in a conversation that can only pertain to their own relationship matters.
I look at Jessica and Sarah, the wives of the pastors, talking about something.  Jessica is animated and Sarah is looking like she is trying to counter whatever Jessica’s animation is conveying.  Edmund, Will, Ken, and Carlos are talking about who knows what, but from what I can tell it must be theological in matter for these masters to be together.  Catherine wanders into that group and whispers something in Edmund’s ear.  He nods and continues.
Edmund always makes me wonder.  He is one of the newest member of our leadership team, but he fits in with the old regime so much better than I.  It’s not even his relationship with Catherine, but something else.  Something I may lack.
I fall back into the conversation as I hear Edward asking me if I wanted to go ice skating.  I say yes and find out that a group is going and that’s it not only Edward and I.  I’m a little saddened, but figure it is better this way.

Deteriorated- Installment 2 December 17, 2007

For the love of…
We walk into the building and sit down for another meeting.  I sit next to my girlfriend Milagros.  I love her.  I would do anything for her.  If I had to jump in front of a bullet that may hit her, I would.  If I had to eat 1,000 hot chili peppers, I would.  Yet, sometimes I feel that there is nothing between us.  I wonder how these two views and ideas can live in one heart.  How can I love, yet not at the same time?
I look at her as the pastor’s voice drones on in the backward.  I can see that far away look in her eye as she stares at the pastor’s face.  I can tell what he cannot.  She isn’t listening, but going into that place deep inside her heart that people are not allowed.  A place that I’m not even allowed access to and it makes me angry.  It gets me so mad that there are things hidden from me that she won’t tell me.  I get so frustrated. Sometimes she does tell me, but only when we are in an argument.  Here are the times when she dumps on me. She unloads all of her problems with my actions and makes me into a monster. How can I love that?
Two years later, we are still together.  Still strong may be pushing it for I don’t know how strong our bond may actually be.  How strong can a bond be between anyone you know?  You may be my best friend, but can I say our connection is strong?  How do I know that you won’t go lie about me behind my back?  How can I be sure that you won’t go and steal something from me?  How?
I drift back into the meeting as I hear the pastor say something about faith and dedication.  What does he mean?  What is faith?  Can I say I have it?  Probably not.  Do I have dedication?  I’m still here am I not.  If I wasn’t dedicated I would have left long ago.  Here I am 20 years old and every Friday night, I give myself over to screaming over loud obnoxious kids instead of partying and enjoying my weekend.
Every Friday, I run home after work.  I try to gather all my equipment, which depending on the night, can be tons of stuff like candy, plastic utensils, or a bucket of worms.  I’m in charge from 7-8 pm and I’m dedicated.  I spend tons of time stressing over every detail of my hour.  Those kids will have fun at youth group as long as I’m in charge of it.  On average we have 25 kids who attend.  These kids know what to expect when they walk through those doors, quality.

Deteriorated- Installment 1 December 11, 2007

I’ve recently started on a story that was for a school assignment.  I’ve really enjoyed writing this story and feel that I could actually continue the story and make it into something.  I’ve always wanted to publish something “good”.  So here is my attempt.

An Introduction to Something More

The city of Elizabeth may be the story of a decayed place rebuilt, but I don’t see it.  How can you rebuild a city that is dead on the inside?
I walk the streets and I see the graffitied walls being repainted and the storefronts restored, but the beauty is only on the outside.  Inside that graffitied building lives a child who cries at night, cold and hungry.  Inside that storefront is a shopkeeper who steals from the owner.  Inside is the ugliness.
I walk down the streets and shrink farther into my coat.  The wind is chilling or maybe it isn’t the actual air.  Maybe it’s a wind of change.  That is just a hope I have.  A hope of a cool breeze wafting through the city and engorging a fire of revival.  Where this city can triumph and really be reborn.
Yet, it starts with the people.  The mayor thinks that we can rebuild, renew, and restore the commerce in this city.  He thinks that he is on the right track.  He can’t see what I can see.  He can’t see the blackness in his own heart and how his hate fills every action of his hand.
I walk down the street and see a group of people.  Big puffy coats.  Timberland.  North Face. Fitted caps.  The illusion of “cool”.  Their hearts are so empty.  They are following this god that only wants and desires more and more from them.  This god is going to eat them up one day.  Their foolish desire will consume them.
I look up at the sky and see the grayness that may be pervading my mood, but I know that there is more to this introspective pessimism that I am feeling.  I feel something tugging at my heart.  I hear the faint whisper of my name, “Milagros.” Is that my soul calling me to actually see?  It seems to come closer and seems to be calling louder.
I don’t realize until I feel the touch on my shoulder that it isn’t my soul, but is my boyfriend Edward.  The love of my life, for as long as it lasts, either way.   He puts his arms around me and I share the embrace and the warmth.  He starts on normal conversational questions like  how are you, what have you been doing, and so on and so forth.  We walk together towards the center of most of our lives and organizational activities.  We walk onwards.

Why? November 20, 2007

Questions of why fill my mind like a poison. I strruggle with my mind and heart. Soul and body are torn.

Why?

Shock and fear encounter every emotion. Hope is there, but smothered.

Why?

Is it possible? Is it plausible?

Why?

I want to have faith that everything will be okay. I want to have faith that it’s not a test.

Why?

This can’t be real. It can’t be true.

Why?

Oh God. Don’t let it be true. Please Lord. Let them be mistaken.

Why?

Now is not a good time. She can’t leave us now.

Why?

Abba, help me.

Why?

Help me understand

Why?

Take my doubt.