Random Thoughts of Amy Potts

Several years ago a speaker filled in for our Pastor on Palm Sunday. The first thing he said was, "your Pastor said I didn't have to talk about Palm Sunday but I'm going to anyway". He lifted his hand and glibly stated, "here's my palm, happy Palm Sunday".  He then began his sermon, of which I remember not. I was offended and couldn't really listen after that. I stayed for the entire service because I was part of the worship music team.  The particular denomination I was in at the time didn't formally recognize the season of Lent like some do. For example, there wasn't an emphasis to give a sacrifice during the 40 days leading up to Easter and the Resurrection. You know, like giving up something that you really enjoyed for 40 days. I have always had friends and family that did observe the practice of giving something up during this time. Admittedly, to me it seemed more ritualistic than heartfelt sometimes. But I had a friend who was in reco...

At Seventeen Janis Ian "To those of us who know the pain  of valentines that never came.   And those whose names were never called  when choosing sides at basketball.   It was long ago and far away,  the world was younger than today.   And dreams were all they gave for free  to ugly duckling girls like me."   Several years ago on a road trip back home, I listened to a compilation CD that had this song on it. Either I had never heard the song before or I had never really listened to the words.  But I found myself lost in the lyrics.  Because I was driving back to the place where I grew up, suddenly these words came to life.  This is exactly how I felt at seventeen!  I felt ugly, awkward and most of all I felt insignificant.  I don't think this is uncommon in teenage girls, but when you are that girl it feels horrible.   We are entering into the Lenten season and my mind is taken to the...

Once while talking about the annual opportunity to honor fathers, a friend suggested that we could celebrate because we have pets.  Let me set the record straight by saying that Mike did not father our dog and cat. Mike also is not my father and therefore not only do we have a normal relationship, but we also have no reason to make a fuss about Father's Day at our house.   Mike does have a father and we honor him each year by spending time with the family; reminiscing and laughing about days gone by.  Most of which I wasn't around for but I enjoy hearing the stories just the same.  Mike's dad has been a hardworking man and his care for his children has been a labor of love, dedication and commitment.  Because of this I have a husband who is equally dedicated and committed to his relationship with me.  If I can celebrate one thing this Father's day, it is that.  My husband's father. But I think there is more to celebrate. Some wake u...

A few years back I gave a little boy, who was turning five years old, five one dollar bills.  I did this because I thought he would see five bills as being a lot of money.  Instead he looked at the meager one dollar bills and said, “These are ones, I can’t buy anything with one dollar”.  He tossed them on the table in disgust and opened the next card from his uncle. In that card was a five-dollar bill.  The young boy said, “now this I can do something with”.  To him the single bill stamped with $5 on it, was of more value than the separate bills that I gave him because he couldn’t see past the value of the $1 marking.  Eventually he scooped them all up and announced, “Look at how much I have!”  Holding all of the bills in his tiny hand finally made him realize just how much he really had.    I don’t know about you, but sometimes I view people in the same way.  When their lives seem to be in a million pieces, I have trouble seeing...

There is just something that keeps calling me back. Maybe it's a fear that the good memories will fade with time unless I trace over and again the path to all I have become. Driving familiar roads making note of the things that remain; only older, warn and broken down. Grieving, in a small way, the things that are no longer there; houses, grocery stores, barns. Time seems the robber of memories. But what we do remember must be met with the reality that someone remembers those things differently, if at all. We remember events, people and places according to the the effect that they had on our lives. Perhaps we remember them as obstacles in our path while someone remembers them as the challenge they needed to push them to achieve more. However we remember those things, they are etched in our minds somewhere. Whether we choose to remember or not, they can creep to the front of our mind. Most would not know about a little town in Iowa called Clarion. But when I hear mention of th...

I went for a run in my favorite park a while back and all around me was life. The trees were well on the way to their summer fullness. Wildflowers were blooming everywhere and the creek seemed to be whispering, “how great thou art”. I was surrounded by that which brought me to a faith in God; His very creation. Left to grow how they will, were trees; some were bending toward the sun competing with the towering oak and cotton wood trees for light. Underneath it all was a blanket of leaves and fallen branches. And beneath all of that was more life than I will ever know. After running half of a mile down a steep hillside trail, I was struck with the realization that what goes down, must come back up. I stopped for a few minutes to rest and to listen. Then looking back up the hill that I had just come down, I realized that I was not going to climb that hill as quickly as I came down. There were cyclists and skateboarders buzzing through the park, up and down the hills. I was ...