HERE TOMORROW 7 PM PST. JOE SICCARDI AUTHOR OF: WISDOM FROM A FATHER (SEE EXCERPTS)
7 PM PST.
Wisdom From a Father is a reflective look at life, segmented into chapters. The words are updates of posts made on his blog, wisdomfromafather.wordpress.com. The 52 essay chapters include reflections on life, love, and family. All are written from the heart, sometimes seriously and sometimes with a touch of humor.
I either have the mellowest cat in the world or the dumbest cat in the world. Well, Max is not really my cat. I inherited him from my mother-in-law, daughter, and grandson. And he stays outside all the time, making himself a comfortable abode under my back porch which keeps him cool in the summer, warm in the winter and dry when the rains and snows come. He doesn’t seem to mind … and neither do my allergies.
We have an arrangement. While the coffee is brewing, I poke out the back door with cat food in hand. Wherever he is, his little paws race to the porch. If I’m late, he’ll be there at the back door waiting.
Max is not a gobbler. He is a nibbler. Generally, he’ll nibble until I head out to the gazebo, then take a break to follow me there. He’ll jump up on the wicker chair and just sit there while I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. When I get up, he jumps down and walks back along the path to the back porch to nibble some more … at his own pace, which is generally a lot slower than mine.
But that’s not the story. The other morning, Max left his food, jumped up on the wicker chair and watched as another cat went up on the back porch for a few kernels of food. I looked at Max and said, “Max! Look at that!” He looked at me and then at the other cat, but just sat there. I shooed the cat away.
That wasn’t the first time I saw Max in inaction. Earlier this summer when I came home, there was Max sitting on the back porch watching -- yes, watching -- a squirrel eat his food!
But the other morning watching Max do nothing, it struck me he has it right. Even though he is a good mouser, he would rather wait on me for sustenance. He looks for me and seeks me out when I’m late. He follows me around like a -- sorry -- puppy dog. In a sense, I am his god. He knows I will take care of him … even if I’m not a cat person.
Well, we have a real God who is willing and able to take care of our needs. Yeah, sometimes it seems we’re on this journey alone, but we’re not. We seem to get by one day at a time. Some call it happenstance … I call providential guidance.
Max realizes he has enough -- not from his own work -- yet he is more than willing to share. Are we?
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: We have to realize every day is a gift from God.
...A fictional memoir, the book chronicles the life of Samantha (Sam) from her childhood through her adult and senior years. Along the way, readers get the opportunity to watch Sam grow and mature, not only in her life but in her faith.
The morning, sky is dark with rolling clouds as I sit on a boardwalk bench in Seaside Heights, NJ, just reflecting, about how blessed my life has been. The waves are anxious, pounding the pristine sand in a precise, rapid rhythm. The boardwalk is empty except for a few early morning gulls and a man standing by the rail about 100 feet away. As I huddle here, I close my eyes, soaking in the sounds of the surf, the fresh, clean smell of the air, the feel of the salt air enveloping me in the gentle breeze.
Through the veil I sense the clouds suddenly open. When I open my eyes, I could see the gray sky punctuated by shades of morning pink and blue with a pure white center. You can’t see the sun but know it is just behind that one puffy, thin cloud. Rays shoot out in all directions.
Immediately my thoughts dart to my early Religion class days and something my Daddy said.
Sister Mary Louise was teaching us about Noah’s Ark. She emphasized God’s love for us as symbolized in a rainbow. She told us whenever we saw a rainbow, we should say a little prayer and thank God for loving us and keeping His promises. The class created individual rainbows on craft paper. I remember mine was far from perfectly arched with the colored crayons overlapping.
But I was proud of my six-year-old creation and couldn’t wait to show it to Mom and Daddy. Mom politely told me it was “beautiful.” Daddy peeked at it while driving and told me I did a good job. Then he said, “We might see a rainbow” since the clouds were dark, and it was raining.
We didn’t see a rainbow that day, but Daddy spotted the sun trying to peek through the clouds and pulled the old Plymouth over so we could observe. You couldn’t see the sun but knew it was just behind that one puffy, thin cloud. Rays shot out in all directions.
“Wow!” I said.
“Isn’t that amazing?” answered Dad.
“Yes, dear,” said Mom.
“Look at how it sparkles,” I added.
“Do you know what that is?” asked Dad. As I was shaking my head no, he said, “That’s heaven shining through.”
“You mean God is doing that?”
From that moment, the sun’s rays became my symbol of hope. It didn’t replace the rainbow but supplemented it. Whenever I was challenged or feeling down, God would allow heaven to shine through to remind me of His presence. Yes, even in those days when I was trying to ignore Him, God’s light shone through.
I did have a good life. An ordinary life, yes, but good. No “ah hah!” moment, just a string of “ahs” weaving a tale of life, love, loss, some sorrow, but oh so much joy!
That is my life. I recognize some drama, some humor, some heart tugs. I know because I lived it. Just a free-willed suburban Jersey girl trying to figure out this journey called life.
So, today I lean back and continue to breathe in the salt water and feel the sun on my face, constantly reminded of God’s presence in the ordinary as He allows heaven to shine through.
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