How to Prepare for the Unexpected

“The unknown tends to be rather hard to find, and the unexpected tends to arrive rather unexpectedly. So the best way to prepare for both is to simply live.”

~The Wishing Map

How to Prepare for the Unexpected - johnhain (pixabay.com)Image by johnhain

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Facing the Unknown and the Unexpected

Ten Kingdoms of Ismara (mitchteemley.com)

The Wishing Map is a full-length fantasy that is being posted episodically at this site. To read the previous episode click here. To read it from the start, click here.

Freshly-saved from drowning, and in search of an elusive Questing Beast, Gina and her brother Zack had found an inn overlooking the Frengan coast.

Thanks to the pearls Shelcor had left them, they ate a lavish breakfast, served by the suddenly slavish innkeeper. He’d decided that they were the children of rich nobles, and repeatedly asked to meet “the father and mother of such delightful little pooties!” Pooties, according to popular Frengan sentiment, are pink-cheeked cloud shepherd babies. Zack resented the inaccuracy. Gina resented being called a baby.

They’d learned of a coach bound for Holos, the kingdom east of Frenga and the direction the sword was urging her to go. Three hours would pass before the horses were changed and the coachman sobered up, so sister and brother sat opposite one another on a window seat overlooking the billowing Kellish Way. They spoke of all that had happened.

“I’m scared out of my gourd,” Gina confessed. “I don’t want to die.”

“But Rhema said—”

Rhema! Why should we trust her?”

“Because she forgave—”

“Well, she didn’t forgive me!”

“Maybe she did. Maybe you have to forgive yoursel–”

“I’m done!” Gina shouted. “I refuse to go on with this stupid quest!” Tears of desperation welled up in her eyes. It was the first time she’d let Zack see her cry in years.

“The sword won’t let you quit,” her brother reminded her, “and besides, Rhema said we’ll find the Revealer when we kill the Questing Beast.”

“When I kill the Questing Beast! Which I won’t, because it’ll kill me first!”

Zack struck his hand with his fist. “I’ll die before I let that happen. I swear!”

Gina snuffled up a stray tear, and patted her brother’s knee. “Stop being all noble and mature or I’ll think faeries stole my real brother!” She was only beginning to realize how profoundly his time in Naimian had affected him.

Before they left, Gina asked if she could buy a large volume of Frengan history she’d spotted in a cob-webbed corner. The innkeeper insisted on making it a gift. He also haberdashed her and her brother into costly louppweave traveling cloaks. It was clear by now that the huge pearl they’d paid with—which the innkeeper kept fondling lustfully—was worth way more than they’d realized. They offered the coachman one of the smaller pearls, and asked him to take them “as far east as you go.”

“For this I’ll take you to all the way to Ongoltan,” he replied, “and dance the Dance of the Swirling Seers with a Shenzuni saber between my teeth!”

It would take eight days to reach the Holosian border, assuming the sword didn’t change its mind in the meantime. How long would they travel before they found the beast? Days? Months? Longer?

Would they ever see home again?

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Thoughts: The unknown tends to be rather hard to find, and the unexpected tends to arrive rather unexpectedly. So the best way to prepare for both is to simply live.

Frenga and Holos (mitchteemley.com)

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June is Busting Out All Over the World!

June weather may not be the same all over the world. In fact, in some ways it’s the opposite: while the Northern Hemisphere reaches its Summer Solstice (longest day), the Southern Hemisphere is experiencing its Winter Solstice (longest night). But the whole world has one thing in common in June — spectacular beauty.

Click on any image to enlarge it, or to begin slide show.

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Life, Meet Purpose

trudy-1982aI was leading the performing arts ministry at a large Southern California church (the one featured in the movie Jesus Revolution). There was a girl in the group who was very attractive and ridiculously easy to talk to. We blended effortlessly, and I’d been thinking she might just be my soulmate.

Then one night a beautiful young woman showed up. After the meeting, a gaggle of us went out to celebrate a birthday. I hitched a ride with the pretty newbie, Trudy. At the restaurant, I kept looking back and forth between her and my would-be soulmate. “Stop it!” I told myself. “Don’t go there!” Trudy drove me home afterward. I leaned in to hug her goodnight. Mistaking the direction of my head, she turned her face toward mine…

And our lips met in the middle.

I’ve written elsewhere about our love and our differences. Let me just repeat that we were wildly different from one another, this pretty newbie and I. We were oil and water. We dated off-and-on for two years. Each time we broke up, I’d attempt to ignite a flame with someone who was more like me, more “soulmate-ish.” But then, somehow, Trudy and I would end up back in our oil and water relationship.

They’re powerful symbols, oil and water. Water is the biblical symbol of life, of God’s provision. Oil is the symbol of calling and purpose (which is why it’s used for spiritual anointing). Two things we can’t live without: Life and Purpose. But can they be mixed?

It’s been 41 years since Trudy and I met, and marriage to her has been the greatest blessing of my life, but it’s also been a mixed blessing. My would-be-could-be-soulmates were nothing like her. They were easy to mix with because they were either very much like me, or (I’m embarrassed to admit this) very impressed with me.

cha_j_drawing_oil-and-waterTrudy is neither. She challenges me–constantly. She makes me grow–constantly. And in the process, she makes me better. And I do the same for her. But make no mistake: our mixing together of Life and Purpose takes constant stirring.

And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Posted in For Pastors and Teachers, Humor, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , | 58 Comments

Fun With Nature

All About Terns: Of the same family as seagulls, terns are extremely selective in their pairings, prompting Charles Darwin to coin the phrase,

“One good tern deserves another.”

doyoumolthere...

wait-whatKnown for their distinctive sound, “kee-WAH,” terns are particularly fond of eating sand eels, which contain a potent hallucinogen. As a result, entire colonies of terns are often unable to function for hours, resulting in the oft-used phrase, “No tern left unstoned.”

kee-wah

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In Love With Falling in Love

My Real Memoir

Of all the times to convince myself I had no feelings. Everyone on Earth was reading the novel Love Story! The world was in love with falling in love, and what had I done? Broken-up with a beautiful girl because I didn’t feel anything. As penance, I forced myself to read Love Story, hoping it would reignite some spluttering spark in me. Nope, I felt nothing. Correction, I felt bad. Bad about feeling nothing. What was wrong with me? And then the movie version of Love Story came out. So I asked a cute girl named Mary to go with me. Maybe we’d fall in love under the warm glow of the projector beam.

The moment the title appeared, everyone, including Mary, began crying; people driving by outside cried. Everyone but me. Afterward, I apologized for not crying. “Why?” said Mary. “It wasn’t that good, I just like crying.” And then, when I leaned in to kiss her goodnight, she told me she was gay. Which was probably my fault. If only I’d cried…

There was just one option remaining: write my own love story, or rather resume writing it. Months earlier, I’d started working on a one-act musical about the (at that point) love of my life, my high school sweetheart Marty. In it, a foolish young man falls in love, then decides he’s no longer in love, and then realizes he really is still in love—just in time to watch the girl leave. Despite All Their Basic Inadequacies was about “the magic of first love” and, as Benjamin Disraeli put it, “our ignorance that it can ever end.”

We started rehearsing early in the new year. I was full of ideas—leaving my actors on-stage the entire time, moving them at the ends of scenes to the positions they’d occupy at the start of their next scenes, and suddenly “unfreezing” them just as those scenes began–but I was also short on experience. “I’m scared sh–less,” I told my pen pal Judy, “if I blow it, I could be washed up at 20!” We lost and gained actors and musicians constantly (I replaced myself as a musician at the last minute in order play an abandoned role).

The theatre was standing-room-only. Maybe because it was Valentine’s Day week, or because people wanted to witness “Mitch’s Folly” first-hand. At any rate, when the opening song ended, people applauded–loudly. And when funny lines were delivered, people laughed—loudly. And when Leigh (the Marty character) told Perish (the Mitch character) as she left that she’d always love him, but that it was “different now,” people cried—loudly. And then they stood and cheered–for fifteen minutes.

Suddenly, I felt something. A lot of something. No, I didn’t cry (although I got kind of choked-up when I read from The Once and Future King for my Oral Interp class). But boy did I feel something. Joy. The joy of making people laugh and cry and think. And when we performed the show for strangers at another college two weeks later, and they cried and laughed and stood and cheered, I felt something all over again. So it turned out…

I still had feelings after all.

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Fit Us for Heaven

kingdomofheaven

Thought for the Week

Bill was a proud man. Trust me, I know because I have an excess of pride myself. Bill played the lead role in my production of A Man for All Seasons, a play about the British saint Sir Thomas More. Bill’s audition was brilliant, but as rehearsals went on it became clear there was a wall around his heart. And no one, not his director (me), and certainly not the God of Sir Thomas More, was allowed past that wall.

His acting pyrotechnics were undeniable. But his heart never came out to play. “I can’t cry,” he admitted just before the play opened, “but don’t worry, I know how to fake it.” His talent—and the wall—were on display nightly.

Thirty years later, a mutual friend, Laurie, sent me a message that Bill had had a heart attack. “Pray,” she said. “God is using this. For the first time he’s admitting he needs someone other than himself.” But Bill managed to slip past death’s door, and reconstruction on the wall began immediately.

Then, after two more years, his lone wolf heart broke down for the final time. Laurie, and several others, visited him regularly, telling him about—and displaying—the love of the God he’d never let past that wall. Slowly, weakened by a broken dam of others’ tears, the wall began to crumble. Bill died, confessing his need for the God who’d never ceased to seek him.

When I think of Bill, I think of that tenderest of all Christmas carols, “Away in a Manger.” Because it is, in fact, a nursery rhyme, the song closes with the words, “Be near me lord Jesus, I ask you to stay close by me forever, and love me, I pray. Bless all the dear children in your tender care, and fit us for heaven, to live with you there.”

It took God a lifetime to fit Bill for heaven, but he finally did. God’s love is ruthless. It stops at nothing, certainly no human-made wall. But then, he’s a father and fathers are like that. I’ll see you on the other side, Bill. As soon as the last vestiges of my wall are down, and the Father is finally finished…

Fitting me for heaven.

Posted in For Pastors and Teachers, Memoir, Religion/Faith | Tagged , , , , , , | 38 Comments

Truly I Tell You…

A learned Theologian passed away.

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At that same moment, a Child died.

Power-of-His-Presence-300x221

In the blink of an eye, the two appeared before God.

The Theologian wrinkled his nose and said,

“Hmm, you’re not what I expected.”

But the Child threw open her arms and cried, “Daddy!”

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children,

you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

~Matthew 18:3

Posted in For Pastors and Teachers, Quips and Quotes, Religion/Faith | Tagged , , , , , , | 34 Comments

Our Truest Friends

Be Kind

“Our truest friends provide for us in ways we’ll never know.”

~The Wishing Map

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A Hidden Gift

Fantasy Inn by Dongwoo Kim (artstation.com)Artwork by Dongwoo Kim

The Wishing Map is a full-length fantasy that is being posted episodically at this site. To read the previous episode click here. To read it from the start, click here.

Freshly-saved from drowning, Zack and Gina turned to face the coastal cliffs of Frenga.

Rhema, the Queen of the Fae, had given Gina a quest and an obstinate magical sword with which to complete it. If they were uncertain where to go next, the sword wasn’t. It pushed Gina toward the eighty-foot sand and chalk edifice. “Fine,” she hollered, “I’ll just climb straight up with you on my back!”

“You probably shouldn’t yell at the sword when we get to Doviclé,” Zack suggested through cold-clenched teeth.

Brine-pickled and frozen to the core, they stumbled toward the vertical outcropping as a cove-bound wind vented its vexation upon them. And then, in a moment of sheer grace, they discovered sandstone steps carved into the recess of the cliffs.

They climbed the eight-story stairs as quickly as they could and arrived at the top, wheezing but no longer shaking. There, just yards away, was an inn! They didn’t have any money, but at least they could sit by a fire–the Inn at Doviclé te Siell was spiked with alluring bookstack chimneys. And unlike the darkly paneled Screaming Spiffwit, it was made out of sugar-white sand, held in place by half-timbers painted in sunny corals and watery blues.

They stepped inside and waited for their eyes to adjust. Suddenly remembering the sword, Gina handed the crystal scarf to her brother. He covered the protruding handle, transforming it into an abstraction, and then they made a beeline for the nearest hearth.

The downside of getting warm was that they were soon aware of just how hungry they were. The diners around them were eating roasted truffles stuffed with quails’ eggs and pungent country cheeses, accompanied by warm shrennel bread slathered in nectair-butter. Gina’s nostrils flared traitorously.

“I have to have some of that—now!”

“Well, unless you plan to steal…” Zack began, but stopped when he saw the pickle-nosed innkeeper approaching.

“Where are your parents?” the man demanded.

“Parents?” Zack quavered. “Uh…”

“My brother is tired,” Gina extemporized. “We arose early to cavort by the seaside. Our parents, the Duke and Duchess, will be joining us shortly and will be most displeased if we are treated discourteously.”

“Tuéill!” the innkeeper snorted. He was about to say something very discourteous indeed, when Gina’s sword jerked her off of her chair. She grabbed the table, causing the scarf to fall away.

The innkeeper’s eyebrows arrowed up. “And what is this?”

“This is the satchel our father the Duke gave us,” said Gina, pulling herself back onto the seat.

“With, um, tools for digging up shells and stuff,” Zack added.

“Tuéill!” the innkeeper repeated, and walked away.

Zack jumped up to re-camouflage the sword, but when he did he noticed the little leathern bag that Shelcor had attached to the tether. He pulled open its drawstring and looked inside, then turned to Gina and said:

“We can eat now.”

Inside the bag were seven perfect pearls…

Each as big as a cat’s eye.

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Thoughts: Our truest friends provide for us in ways we’ll never know.

To read the next episode, click here.

Sur Kellan and Frenga, The Wishing Map (mitchteemley.com)

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