Living Waters

Oh office plant. Your resiliancy astounds me. After every weekend away, you become droopy. My plant watering ineptitude becomes rather obvious as your slender stalks, weak from nutritional depletion, curl around the edge of your plastic container. You hold on just a few more minutes, a few more hours, until my return to feed you the necessities of life that you require. You know I will come. Propelled only by monetary gain, I return to my office chair, eventually gazing upon your withering leaves. I cringe, run to get you life sustaining water. I talk to you, giving you the heartfelt apology you have heard oh so many times. My fingers trace your seemingly lifeless petals that once were so beautiful before I came along. I try to lift you up. But I can only watch, and hope that my destruction has not fully killed the life you once had. In my business, I neglect to give you the only thing you require: living water. Every week, I know that you will once again rise. And every week, you do. Every week, your roots drink and your lifeless limbs echo a visible sigh of relief and delight.

And you, my little plant, give me reason to go on. Because if you can live with such a terrible caregiver, imagine what I can do with the God of the Universe caring for me!

So many times, I am depleted as you have been. So many times, I'm withering and breaking. So many times the only thing I need is living water. I wish I was that resiliant. I wish I would not always give in to my tiredness and weariness. I wish in that moment where the only thing I had to cling to was hope, that I would not give up so easily. I wish, my dear office plant, that I was more like you. Yet like you, I know He will come, has come, and traced my lifeless limbs. My roots drink and peace floods my soul as He drowns me in life sustaining, life giving, life altering living waters. He restores me, saves me, comforts me, and believes in me. I will rise again.

And this Friday, I will not forget to water you, Phoenix of flora. You are a small echo of my life, and I want to keep you around.

Knitty Gritty

"Central to the appeal of knitting is that it wakes like a meditation. Everything become quiet, still and peacful and all the turmoil of life seems to succumb to the silent rhythm of the needles and the orderly progression of the stitches."

- June Hemmons Hiatt

I've always enjoyed creating something out of nothing. From the time I made a diorama of a flying bee out of an old clock motor as a kid, just for fun mind you, to more recent ventures like knitting. I didn't have the benefit of a wise elder who has made everything from a simple strand of yarn she spun herself, her nimble fingers showing me how to weave the thread between the needles methodically. Nope, I never do it the easy way. I learned basically from a coloring book.

Learning to knit is not an easy thing to do. My venture started out at first as an obligation. I had taught myself to crochet fairly easily at 23. My sister, generally the best gift giver in history, mistakenly bought me a knit kit for Christmas. Great. Thanks, sis. Now I have to learn. I opened the box and luckily found instructions. Even more fortunately, there were pictures. Soon, I realized the complexity of this overwhelming task. The pictures I was so enthralled about only seemed to confuse more than they helped. Time and time again, I attempted to mimic the visual. Time and time again, I failed. Miserably. Very, very miserably.

I boxed up my present only a few months later in complete frustration. Then I thought, 'What was so hard, really? You're a smart gal, creative and whatnot. Perhaps a little less than graceful with sharp objects, but have another go at it! We can do this thing! WOOOOO!' And I got all pumped up. Again. And I failed. Again, only slightly less miserably. Over the next year or so, this happened several times. Like having a child, I would forget the pain of birth and want to try again. Finally, something clicked. Something beautiful. What happened next was almost miraculous, transporting me from my year in craft purgutory to the big yarn ball in the sky through gates of golden knitting needles. I knitted. AND purled! The child in me danced to the rhythm of the clicking needles while the adult in me sat in quiet satisfaction of creativity.

The first REAL thing I started to make besides practice swatches was a blanket for my mom. The two hues of purple contrasted the white perfectly. It's progress was punctuated by intermittent delays to make hats, scarves, mittens, baby clothes, etc. It was awfully hot to work on in summer, so winter became prime time to make progress as the blanket grew, stitch by stich, row by row. Three years later at Christmas, I made my mother cry by its sheer beauty. Either that or it was like when you bring a drawing home from kindergarten and your parents shamelessly hang it on the refrigerator to make you feel good. I'd like to think it was more impressive than the finger paint creativity of a five-year-old, but either way, my mom cried. Honestly, the thing was nothing like I originally planned. It was a mere remnant of my idea, with flaws only my overscrutinizing eyes could see. But purple sure is pretty. And I proudly gave my mom her prize.

Still today, I knit. When my needles move in harmony to create beauty out of nothingness, the world stops yelling obscenities at me, if only for a brief moment. Time stops, only to have to catch up real quick once I stop. And I remember to keep fighting, keep trying, because although you don't know the definite outcome, you know each stitch brings you closer to the dream. Even though it's never as easy as a coloring book picture makes it look.

Unscheduled Hiatus

Apparently I have taken quite the hiatus from blogging. It's not that I didn't have anything to say. (Lord knows I have plenty to say!!) It's not that my desire to write faded. (And never will.) I just simply didn't think about it. But today at work, I found an old print out of some of my previous blogs. It stirred those thoughts in me again. It brought out something that has laid dormant for the past few months, and honestly a majority of my life. I forget sometimes the power of cleverly crafted writing, how it can bring about an emotion or memory that fell into the depths of the mind just waiting to be reborn, relived, and rediscovered. I can't say I will always remember to write and share my words. But hopefully, at times when they become so powerful, I will share them with you. Or sometimes when they aren't powerful at all, just begging to be written, I will write for you, for me, for the world.

Just a Little Rain

Last night, I ran an errand. It was a little gray when I went into the store and I was well aware of the pending rainfall and the tornado warnings across the city. Upon exiting the store, the sky had turned a dark gray infused with blue. The clouds were split and lightening was shooting out a warning of the coming rains. After a quick analysis, I thought it best to just go home so as not to get caught in the storm. The whole way home I chanted 'just hold off a few more minutes until I get home....just a few minutes." Random rain drops crashed and splattered against my windshield, giving my wipers a short bursts of excitement. Still, I chanted and hoped. I knew what was coming. As I pulled into my driveway, I let out a sigh of relief as it had not yet begun to pour. I gathered my purchases, opened my car door and in that one split second, the heavens opened, dumping every drop of water it had been collecting. I got out, getting soaked in the cool southern rains. I gave the sky a good 'fist shake of doom', screaming to the thunderous clouds above "You just couldn't wait two more seconds could you? Could you?!?" Hurriedly I made my way inside, drenched with the flood from above. Even though I was cold and now wet with the evidence of my failed hope, I still had to smile. I stood and watched nature's fireworks in lightening, listened to nature's music in thunderous drumroll, and was quietly thankful I got caught up in it in the last few seconds of my journey home.

Another Blog?!?

Okay, so I can't keep up with one blog, so I start another? Well, that's just plain ridiculous! I'm not sure why, but I just like "arileydeclassified" a lot. I mean, that's really what I do. I share my life, my stories, my heart in every post. So cheers to sharing my life with the world wide web, and all that peruse it. And cheers to another blog that I will write in way too infrequently!