Random Thoughts of Amy Potts

I've been reflecting lately on the origin of my faith in God and it seems that unlike some, I'm unable to really pinpoint a day or time when I had that "aha" moment.  All I know is that at a very young age I would listen to the voices of the meadowlark and the red-winged blackbird; curious to know what made them sing.  I believe that God's voice in the wind called me away from the angry voices of people to come out and  dance with the little stream on the edge of town. It was God who called me to safety then and it is He who calls me to a deeper place today.  It was God and it is God. I went away to a monastery recently to reflect on this faith and some things occurred to me.  For many years I worshiped in an evangelical setting.  I don't know how many times a congregation would rejoice when they learned that someone had come out of "Catholicism" to the true Christian experience.  So many times I would hear pastors refer to the "other" d

Every year I get frustrated with the argument of whether or not retailers should say, "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays".  Every year I am perplexed at the number of people who stay up all night just to get the best bargain for Christmas.  Call me a cynic, but I don't think I recognize Christmas anymore.  Or do I? I did some in depth research on the subject of Christmas.  Well, not really, but I did launch a Google search.  I clicked on the first link I found which was, History.com and this is what I learned; "Christmas is both a sacred religious holiday and a worldwide cultural and commercial phenonmenon.  For two nillennia, people around the world have been observing it with traditions and practices that are both religious and secular in nature."   Hmm that's interesting.  So, Christmas is religious, cultural and commercial all wrapped up in one neat package.  Brilliant! So what's the big deal if the checker at Macy's or any other

Someone made this statement to me yesterday, "Amy, I'm not like you, I can't always find a reason to give thanks".  Maybe she is more like me than she thinks.  The truth is that some days even I have a hard time finding something to be grateful for.  One year ago tomorrow, I was sitting at my desk when a co-worker approached me to tell me that one of our dear teammates had been killed in a car accident the night before. That was a somber day.  I had to answer the question to customers all day of, "did you have a nice Thanksgiving?" For a whole day I said these words over and over until I believed them myself, "I have so much to be thankful for ". While it is true that there are days when it is hard to find gratitude, there is always something to be grateful for.  Today I am grateful for many things; too many to be counted actually.  But tomorrow could be one of those days when I have to reach deep within and simply say, "I'm thankful for

I had the honor of accompanying my husband, Mike to another marathon this past weekend.  This one was in Richmond, Virginia.  I love going to his races for many reasons. I usually get him to the start of the race and then head on out to find a place where I can encourage him and the other runners.  Then I rush off to at least one more place on the course where I will spur him on before going to congratulate him at the finish line.  This is always my favorite part.  There is something else I enjoy while I am at the races.  I get to meet people from all over our country and beyond.  This race was memorable.  I met a lady who was from Poland, there to watch her husband run his first marathon in the United States. I also met a lady whose friend was running her 15th marathon this year! The most important interaction of the day was with a local homeless man.  As I was standing along the street cheering for runners I noticed a man begging money to no avail from two young girls.  My first th

After listening to break-room talk today, I decided to come home and compose a letter to Dear Abby that may have come from any one of the conversations that I witnessed.  This is in no way to be a reflection on my marriage.  I have trained my husband much better than this.  Enjoy the read and have a best day! Amy Dear Abby, Today is the day I have chosen to finally sit down to write you a letter.   I have been married to Jack Ass, (his real name) far too long.   When we met he was a perfect gentleman.   He always opened the car door for me and waited on me to be settled before closing it.   I in turn would reach across the seat to unlock his door and open it for him as a sign of returning my love.   When we would sit down at the dinner table we would hold hands and gaze lovingly at each other, sometimes forgetting why we were there.   It was bliss, I tell you, pure bliss.   We have been married for one year now and suddenly that has all changed.   Oh yeah, he still opens and cl

I didn’t know as a little girl that I would find myself relying on the profound words of a children's book when I was grown.   But many times when I look back at where I have been and who I have become, I can’t help but to remember the words of Margery Williams in “The Velveteen Rabbit”.   “Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse.   “It’s a thing that happens to you.   “Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.   “Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”   Does it happen all at once…or bit by bit?”   “It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.   “You become.   It takes a long time.   That’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.   Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.   But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly,

Be encouraged if you woke up today, someone didn't. Be encouraged if you can read this, someone can't. Be encouraged if you can smile at another, they may have forgotten how. Be encouraged if someone smiles at you, because they gave you simple joy. Be encouraged if your clothes were clean, someone has been wearing the same clothes for weeks. Be encouraged if someone expresses hate, you made them feel safe enough to be honest. Be encouraged if you can't sing a note, the song in your heart will always be heard. Be encouraged if your vision is impaired, most of us look too far ahead anyway. Be encouraged if your well of tears has run dry, someone will cry for you. It's a simple message today, because I didn't know what else to write.  I am simply grateful and somehow putting it in print makes me realize how much I really do have and how much my friends near and far need to be encouraged. Maybe my purpose in putting my thoughts out to the world is to simply

Some days I simply want to go home.  I want to sit next to my husband on the couch to watch the "Sound of Music" to hear those familiar happy tunes or maybe watch "O Brother Where Art Thou" to laugh at the same lines again and again.  Or I might wander off to my room to play piano and sing.  Whatever it is, whenever it is I just want to be home. Until two years ago that home was in Iowa.  Iowa had been my home for nearly 50 years and suddenly I found myself moving to Kansas.  Kansas where the sunflower is it's state flower.  For the Iowa farmer and those of us who grew up pulling weeds from soybean fields, the sunflower was an evil predator.  But you know what?  When I see those flowers growing wild in the ditches today, I am taken back to a place of my youth.  A place that is largely responsible for shaping who I am today.  Pierson, Iowa, at the time, had a population of about 200 people.  They may have even included our family pets in that count just to keep

     I had the privilege of spending time with Mike and his extended family this past weekend.  As family functions go, there was much to learn about each other and to simply refresh our memories.  Being somewhat new to the Potts family, I had the difficult task of remembering the names of the adults, children and family pets.  I survived and am a better woman because of it.  There were some tears, but they evaporated quickly into laughter as the reminiscing soon turned to the wiles of our youth.         Whenever I am in a situation like this, I am taken back in my mind to a little town in Iowa called Pierson.  It is where my life began.  I would often walk to the edge of town; within a couple blocks no matter the direction, to wade in the shallow creek.  Squishing mud between my toes while the cool water splashed on my ankles, life could not be better.  With the accompaniment of the meadowlark and the red winged blackbird, I would often make up my own little songs.  I was alone, b

I was watching the Oklahoma City Marathon on television a couple years ago from my hotel room. I was not feeling well that day and my husband was running so I was hoping for a glimpse of him. I usually go to his races and drive ahead on the course so that I can encourage him along the way. Then I will drive to the finish line and wait for him to cross. In my mind I am thinking of his personal goal for the race and I'm watching the finish line clock hoping the best for my runner man. The weather in Oklahoma City that day was not the best. The Oklahoma winds came "sweeping down the plains" and into the city, on this overcast day. I was listening to a former marathon runner talk about how days like this were deceptive to the runners. Because the wind was wiping the sweat from their bodies as quickly as it came, it may have felt to the runners as though less hydration was necessary. So they wouldn't drink as much water as they usually did because they felt alrig

I love to hear people say, "I worked like a dog today". Why do I like this expression? I like it because I have a dog and I know what she does all day. Granted, she is a Corgi, and from what I have read about dogs of her breed, they are great herding dogs. I use the term, they, broadly because not all corgis herd cattle by day and guard their owners by night. While our Chloe does exhibit herding tendencies, it is our cat that she redirects and not necessarily at our command. She works when it is convenient. Mostly she plays with a ball and takes naps. Which, sounds like a professional athlete's job. That is a blog entry in itself. So this is how I suppose my day would look if I worked like our dog. I would wander into the office when I was ready, after making many detours on the way. When I finally arrive, I will wander from person to person looking for a good ear scratching. I might even sniff them if I'm not feeling too secure. After some enthusiastic cha

Everyone knows the joke about the dyslexic atheist who claimed "there is no doG". I have to say that as a Christian I believe in God and I had a doG who at times was the only one who could convince me He was still listening. I grew up in a home where we always had a dog and cat. We learned about life and death with these beloved creatures. We watched kittens and puppies be born; sometimes in the most inconvenient places. I also felt the sadness of saying goodbye. As I grew old enough to understand the power of friendship and the symbolism in letting go of "man's best friend", I realized that there is more to life than just existing. I found a way as a young woman to understand that life is not just a matter of our heart beating one minute and then stopping. It is about relationships; good and bad. It is about learning how to love, and how to forgive. It is as much about pain as it is about pleasure. It is about learning how to balance it all in a world th