Today: A Day of Blessing

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know it, but today was going to be a blessed day.

Let me give a little background first. Last week, my purse was stolen out of my car while I was inside my church daycare picking up my children. I was one of several cars in the daycare line, and mine was chosen. Let me also say that I understand that “you should never leave your doors unlocked.” I’m so sick of hearing that, I cannot even tell you. I lock my car everywhere I go, I promise - well, everywhere but daycare, where I’m usually completely drained of energy and my mind is downloading the workday and uploading plans for dinner at the same time. I run in and run out, and I don’t lock my doors. So, I guess it’s my fault that I’ve become a victim. I know a few people who want to make me feel this way. I’m definitely paying for my mistakes, if it makes the haters feel any better.

I digress; back to my blessed day.

As I have done every day since this very unfortunate event, I took time out of my work day this morning for the inherent footwork that comes with being a victim of crime, and I went to the Memphis Police Department to file a report on the checks that have been spent in the past couple of days. I have to say that I was hating on Memphis this morning. I know that there are bad people and crime everywhere, but there is definitely a much higher concentration of it in a metro area; and while I’ve been praying all over this situation (and the thieves) and trying to keep a Christian attitude, I was not feeling it this morning.

Once back to work, I decided that instead of driving to my next client appointment on the north side of Downtown, I would take the trolley from our South Main office. I chose a seat near the middle of the trolley next to an open window.

When the trolley started on its way, the breeze began to blow through the window, and I noticed what a beautiful day it was. I thanked God for that, and I thought to myself “today is going to be a blessed day.”

I watched as we passed the beautiful old buildings of downtown Memphis and the many different people walking in the streets. I noted the eclectic mix of downtown residents, tourists and business people, all out enjoying the pretty weather. People were popping in and out of the shops, restaurants and office buildings along the way, and Downtown’s usual loiterers were conversing with each other (and themselves). I was beginning to remember how many good people and beautiful things there are in Memphis.

For as many people as there were on the streets, there were only a few of us on this particular trolley. A small group of women at the front of trolley were heading to have lunch together and there were a couple of condo residents who were obviously headed for errands with unlimited trolley passes in hand. They, too, sat at the front of the trolley. All the seats behind me were empty, and I was alone in the middle – until Mr. Adell Smith got on board.

I didn’t know Adell. I had never laid eyes on him before in my life, but he bee-lined to me like he knew exactly who I was and was going to sit right next to me – as in on the same small double seat I was on. Okaaaay, so hello stranger!

I have to stop and explain something extremely valid to this part of the story, although it didn’t occur to me to be related to this encounter before it happened, obviously. In almost continuously praying my way through being a victim of crime over the past seven days, I have been constantly proclaiming my faith to God, saying “Dear Lord, I know you are my Savior! I believe in you and your power over all things. I know that through you, all things are possible. You will help me overcome this. I believe in you.” I say this in the whispers of my prayers when my kids are in the car, and I shout it out to myself when I’m all alone in my car. No, passerbys and onlookers, I’m not crazy - I’m proclaiming!

So, below is my conversation with Adell, who for your visualization looks a lot like Morgan Freeman on Shawshank Redemption – a movie that Joey happens to be watching right now. He was dressed in worn black pants, a similarly worn black shirt and a baby blue buttoned blazer, slightly less worn-looking. His eyes were friendly, and he had a very comforting aura about him. He was very comfortable sitting side-by-side with me, a stranger.

Me, feeling pressured to start the conversation: “Hi! How are you today?”

Adell: “Good. How are you?”

Me, nervously continuing the conversation: “Good… So, what are you doing downtown today?”

Adell, keeping direct, but not uncomfortable, eye contact with me: “I just had breakfast at The Arcade, and I’m headed to run some errands.”

Me: “Oh, that’s nice.”

Adell: “Are you headed to have lunch downtown?”

Me: “No, I’m going to a meeting. I thought I’d take the trolley today. It’s such a pretty day.”

Adell: “Yes, it is… Do you live in Memphis?”

Me: “No. I live in Southaven. Are you from Memphis?”

Adell: “Not really. I’m from Mississippi. Nesbit, Mississippi.”

Me: “Ok. Well, that’s not far from me.”

Silence for several seconds, as we stare ahead and I catch him glancing back at me a couple of times until he finally turns to me with this question.

Adell: “Who is your Lord?”

Me, a little caught off guard but quick to answer: “Well, Jesus. And, thank you for sitting next to me and asking me that.”

Adell: “Well, I was worried about you. You are such a pretty lady.”

Me, filled with a sense of the presence of God on this small seat with us: “That’s very sweet of you.”

More silence, as I suddenly shared his feeling of being very comfortable sitting side-by-side with him.

Me, continuing the conversation: “I hear it’s going to be a very windy day – 40 to 50 mile per hour winds.”

Adell: “Well, I hope it is still a pretty windy day.”

Me, chuckling: “Yeah, I guess as long as there isn’t any rain in that wind, we are ok.”

Adell: “What’s your name?”

Me: “Kerri. What’s your name?”

Adell: “Adell Smith… And, this is my stop.”

He got up pretty quickly and exited the trolley, as I called out to him “Have a nice day!”

I continued onto the next stop, which was my exit.

What seemed like an entire afternoon’s conversation only happened in probably three minutes, and I was no longer hating on Memphis.

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to proclaim my faith out loud to one of your children, who wanted to hear it and was hopefully blessed by it. I know I was. It was a blessed day.

Of course, now, the story doesn’t actually end there, as that’s not how Kerri Guyton’s stories end. On the way back to my office after my meeting, the trolley system shut down, and I had to walk about 10 blocks in high heels. Looks like my decision to ride the trolley only had one purpose, and once it was done, so was my time on the trolley. Maybe I’ll drive next time… Maybe not.

Best Friends

True best friends could spend days together and never grow tired of each other. They enjoy each other’s company, and don’t want to experience something without the other. Best friends know each other well, feel each other’s pain and stand ready to defend the other from harm. A best friend is someone who you trust completely and share your true self with exclusively. If you are lucky you can refer to someone as “one of my best friends,” meaning you have many, and if you are truly lucky, one of your best friends will be your spouse.

It’s heartwarming to see these types of friendships develop in my children. Best friendships bring happiness, comfort, good times and lasting memories. These relationships can help you develop into the best you possible because your best friend knows and loves you for who you are. I believe that like good marriages, God blesses good friendships.

Children, of course, easily label best friendships, and it sometimes only takes a short time together to upgrade the friendship status to “best friends forever.” However, while many of those relationships stay at that status as quickly as they were formed, some relationships, even from childhood, are blessed enough to last a lifetime.

From my 34 years, I have a small list of names that I remember as being my true best friends through long stages of my life: Lauren, Celeste, Erinn, Laura, Stephanie and Kim. There are a couple of boys I would add to this list who I would label as best friends of mine through long stages of my life, but they get the ex-boyfriend label as well; so that trumps them for this story. And, after 15 years together – and more flare-ups, de-best-friending and re-best-friending than any other relationship in my life – I can honestly say that my deepest and most meaningful best friendship is with my husband, Joey. Finally, while I take it for granted that my sisters and my mom are also my best friends because they are my family, I know that it is not always that way in families in the world; so I acknowledge them here as well!

Of course, my lifetime is not nearly halfway over, if I have anything to do with it, and I’m forging ahead and experiencing relationships right now that I know will add names to my overall list. So, that is a very good thing.

Today, I clink my glass to best friendships – true blessings and imperative aspects of a joyful lifetime!

A Sunday Experience on a Monday Night

Monday night is my absolute favorite night right now. I admit that it mostly has to do with the TV lineup, starting with a two-hour Bachelorette followed by Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition. (I can most certainly be called a reality show addict.) However, I am also highly motivated on Mondays, and I usually spend the workday getting my project priorities set for the week and checking off as many items on my ‘to do’ list as possible before the end of the day. (Monday is usually not a very social day for me at work.) Finally, I come home on most Monday evenings to a refrigerator full of healthy dinner possibilities, thanks to a Sunday afternoon trip to the grocery. So, on my drive home, while basking in the high of an efficient, accomplished workday, I map out the proposed evening timeline: dinner prep, wardrobe change (into pajama pants), alternative entertainment setup for children (with dinner service) and transition into TV- vegetating state. Last night, however, my drive home was interrupted by an image of a truer reality - one that took over my conscious and my schedule; and made me completely forget it was Monday night.

On the way home from work, as I was nearing the end of my exit off of I-55, I saw the blue lights of a cop car pulled to the side of the stop light. When I came to a stop (smack-dab next to the situation), I saw that the subject under obvious question by the officer was a homeless man with his cardboard sign folded slightly under his dirty arm, revealing just a few words from what looked to be a slightly longer-than-usual message for a “will work for food” poster. In a quick glance, my eye caught the word “ANY” in capital letters and underlined for emphasis at the end of a broken sentence, as well as the customary statement “God Bless You” written on the side of the poster. The cop was talking into the walkie talkie attached to his shoulder, pushing the button with one hand while reviewing a slip of paper the homeless man had given him in his other hand. The homeless man held onto an open Ziploc bag which obviously housed the important paper for safekeeping. I could see the homeless man’s mouth moving – stating his case I’m sure, telling his story. I had that split-second vision of me getting out of the car and saying “He’s with me, officer” as I loaded up his stuff and pushed him into my car. My eyes scanned his belongings – a rolled-up, stained sleeping bag and an old backpack. I immediately wanted to offer to bring his sleeping bag home to wash it and deliver it back to him with a fresh smell to comfort him later that night. Of course, the traffic light turned green before I could consider following through with any of my proposed actions, and I was headed on to pick up the kids from daycare and go home – with the heaviest burden my heart has had in a long time.

When I finally made it home, I immediately started dinner – throwing some ground beef in the skillet to brown and starting the pasta water boiling – arguing with myself the whole time over the could-haves and should-haves. I barely paid attention to the routine execution of the spaghetti dinner, as I finally came to the conclusion that I would share part of our family meal with this stranger on the side of the road. I was suddenly nervous and excited, like a timer was ticking down the minutes I had before he had walked too far from the spot that I’m sure the office shooed him away from. The kids were whining about being hungry and when was dinner going to be ready. (They would probably be disappointed when they found out they would have to wait even longer.)

As soon as everything was ready, I packed up a recycled margarine container (the ‘big tub’ one) with spaghetti noodles, drowned it in meat sauce and stuck in a aluminum foil-wrapped roll. I grabbed a to-go utensils packet and a diet coke from the refrigerator and put everything in a Walmart bag. I called the kids to go get in the car because we had an errand to run. When they asked me what we were doing, I just said, “I’m not sure, but I think God wants me to do something.”

My kids are used to me doing seemingly strange things like asking them out-of-the-blue if I could say a prayer out loud, or randomly breaking out into a Bible story or spiritual lesson; but I’m not sure they quite knew what to expect from my answer this time. And, they just sat there quietly as I murmured “it will just be a minute; it’s just around the corner – at least I hope it is” while driving to the spot where I last saw him. When we got there, he was gone, of course, and my heart sank a little. I kept driving, however, and I started to explain what I had seen, how I wanted to do something for the man, but how I may have missed my chance.

“Well, can’t we keep looking?” said Hannah, my 7-year-old, who was experiencing the strongest ‘hunger pains’ of the three children just 15 minutes earlier. Of course we could, and we did. We drove at least 10 miles in every possible direction he could have gone, scanning every parking lot and wooded area. While I was chattering away my nervous energy with all the possibilities that could have happened to him – “maybe the policeman took him to the station; maybe the officer sent him off to a shelter; maybe someone else actually took the action I only imagined” - I realized that Parks, my too-cool-for-school 10-year-old, was sniffling in the backseat and trying not to cry. When I asked him what was wrong, he couldn’t answer and barely whispered “I feel bad for him,” as a few tears escaped from his nearly pre-teen eyes and dripped down his cheeks faster than he could swipe them away with his hand.

I instantly felt bad for failing to help the homeless man right in front of my children, and I began trying to make us all feel better about it with truths I knew deep in my heart. I told the kids that what we could do was pray for him. God knew where he was, and he knew how much we wanted to help him but couldn’t. I also explained that God loved the man, just as much as he loves us, whether the man knew it or not; and He would make sure that the man was taken care of tonight. It seemed to ease the sadness in the car, and we drove home in silence to eat the dinner we left out on the stove.

I was in the middle of preparing plates when I got a text from my mom, commenting on something that had obviously happened on The Bachelorette – a routine we have established as mutual lovers of reality TV – and I was swept back into my standard Monday night habit. However, the wheels have been set in motion, and I vow to jump into action sooner in my next opportune real-life ‘reality’ moment.

I just truly hope the kids are with me when the next opportunity arises.             

Isaiah 40:31 “Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Just do it!

In my job, I don't do much without thinking through ideas, charting out paths and analyzing potential outcomes, which makes my job the perfect one for me, as I have been told multiple times throughout my life, "Kerri, you over-think things." And, I agree. 

Over-analyzing is a necessary process in the public relations world. We are 'idea people,' but before we bring an idea to the table, we spend time rolling it around in our thoughts, processing it in hypothetical situations, determining potential problems, creating prospective solutions and considering possible outcomes. Then, when it comes time to present our ideas, we map out the presentation, scrutinize every image, contemplate the use of critical words and evaluate the probable response. All of this happens before we ever do anything.

Now, as much as I value this process for my professional life – where a conclusion is inevitable because there is task to be completed – the tendency to over-analyze often hinders me in my personal life, especially when an action is not mandatory. I will get a fantastic idea for a home project, a new hobby or a life change, and the process begins. Ideas begin rolling, and the hypothetical, potential, prospective and possible begin to be evaluated. (I actually truly love doing this, by the way.) However, with no timeline from management and no paycheck coming upon execution, that process often doesn’t come to a resounding conclusion and is instead filed away to make room for the compensated processes.

I have recently determined that I am going to repudiate this phenomenon one step at a time, beginning with this blog post.

I signed up for this blog nearly a year ago with an excitement to have a forum to do something I love to do – write. And, although my schedule hasn’t allotted a lot of time during the past year to considering blog posts, I have had many thoughts and stories that I felt, at the time, would be worth publishing. However, my process was always halted when I couldn’t map out additional posts, or tie an overlying theme to the purpose of my blog. Today, while it distresses me to dip into under-evaluated waters, I remind myself that there is no reason to stay out of the water when I really want to swim!

So, here I am – making a little splash and just doing it.