When Parts Become A Whole

The following is written by Rachel Young and Ryan Warnholtz. *Disclaimer* grammer, spelling, punctuation, are not correct, so just bear with us.


When Parts Become A Whole: a tale of valor, trial, and love
In a land beyondth this one there was a fairth maiden who nameth was Lady Rachel. The following begins with letters written between her and Sir Ryan, both faithful followers of the True High King. While Lady Rachel was serving her King she befalls in to the merciless hands of Lord Picklebottom. We find at the beginning or our story her first letter to the brave knight.

Dearest Sir Ryan,
I haveth one lastest journey to maketh. Taketh out the burden of rotted, solied items and throw them into the pit of the stinking stench of death. I fearth that the lions and giants will not let me returnth, for they may capture me and taketh me to Lord Picklebottoms. Who is master over all evil creatures. Thou mayest be my lastest chance to surviveth Sir Ryan.
 Faithful servant of the True High King,
Lady Rachel

Fair Lady Rachel,
Oh dear, this is far worse than even I, the great Sir Ryan could have imagined. I must go fuel up for this journey, to the kitchen! (I've been summoned for eggs and oatmeal).
 Knight of the High King,
Sir Ryan

Dearest Sir Ryan, knight of the True High King,
I haveth beenest captured by Lord Picklebottom's creatures. He hast placed me in the dungeon and charged me with the task of scraping sheet rock off boxes and washing all his sliver and gold. I am keepth under guard by the most terrible beast imaginable. The beast of Utter Despair. I workth night and day with no sleep, or rest, or food. My tears are many. The days seem endless and my heart is failing. This is truly my last farewell. I still clingth to the hopeth that maybeth you may reachth my in time. Alas, it may all beth in vain.
Faithful servant of the True High King,
Lady Rachel

Fair Maiden,
I have returned, with the breakfast of champions! Fear not fair maiden Lady Rachel, for I have mounted my trusty steed and boundeth for the dungeons of the dreaded Lord Picklebottom! I shall not rest until  I reach thee, not eat before I rescue thee! I cometh, with my sword raised high, and shall pierce the hearts of all of the beasts that surroundeth you! Keep hope Lady Rachel, for I am on my way,
Faithful servant of the True High King,
Sir Ryan

Sir Ryan,
My heart has a ray of hope! I will hold strongly to thouest promise that thee will rescue me! Each day still dragth on. Lord Picklebottom has commanded that I be wed to him in a fortnight. I am not distressed for i know that thou will reachest me in time.
Faithful servant of the True High King,
Lady Rachel

Dearest Lady Rachel,
For I am but a breath away, yet you doth not see me... for I ninjaeth amongst these beasts. My trusty steed was not so trusteth, and so I doth taketh an airplane. A magnificent beast that doth soar above the clouds with the greatest of ease! The next time that thou dost hear from me it shall be face to face, for I cometh ever so soon!
Faithful servant of the True High King,
Sir Ryan

*Lots of roaring from hugeeeee beasts! The sound of hearts being pierced, the yells of an injured Knight*

*A hobbling knight enters into your midst!*

Lady Rachel,
For it is I, Sir Ryan. I have cometh to rescue you from this place. But what is this? You have disappeared! Oh no, can it be that I am too late?

Dearest Sir Ryan,
Lord Picklebottm intercepted my last letter so he learned of thou mission to rescue me. He took me awayth to his secret castle and has me locked in the highest tower. My heart the was rejoicing of thou rescuing me is now full of despair. For, alas, Lord Picklebottom has made today the day I weddest him. I write in great haste for his servant soonest come to take me away to my doom. I'm dress in the most beautiful and whitest dress, but the irony of it, I can not bear this. I shall throw myself from the tower before I wed Lord Picklebottom. I fear that there is no way thee can rescue me for only the servants of Lord Picklebottom know of this secret castle. My tears are many and my heart aches for rescue. You must find th True High King and plea with Him to reveal where I am. That is my last request Knight Warnholtz. But you must make haste! Alas! I hear the trod of footsteps in the stairwell!
Servant of the True High King,
Lady Rachel

****In haste, Sir Ryan scours the prison for any hidden clues, secrets that might revealeth this secret location. In Lord Picklebottoms chamber a secret passage is found due to a strange wind that bleweth through the room. Clearly the powers that be wished for this to happen. Sir Ryan crawleth through the passage on his hands and knees until they becometh raw. The pain of the injuries from his victorious battle stinging and the rawness of his knees and hands exuding pain - he began to loseth hope for the fair maiden, Lady Rachel.

However when he thoughteth that all was o'er he saw a light shine through the tunnel, and he saweth that the end was near! He goteth out of the tunnel in the stables of this hidden abode - now to findeth that tower. Ah! There it is, the tower being the biggest he had ever seen! What doth he haveth for options? And then he heard it - the roar of a dragon! With that roar of the dragon, a thought runeth across the mind of Sir Ryan, a thought only knights in desperation would ever consider... but it had to be done, for the fair lady Rachel's life dependeth on it! Full of haste Sir Ryan sprinted to the dragon and after narrowly avoiding death by fire (and losing an eyebrow) he mounted the beast and directed it towards the tower!

Lady Rachel  sent the letter to Sir Ryan in a last act of hope. Alas she heard the approaching footsteps of those who would take her to her doom. She would neverst be weddest to the evil Lord Picklebottom. She threw the bar back from the door that led out to the tower balcony. Stepping carefully onto the railing she paused looking down at the deep water of the moat seeming miles down. If she survived the jump she would still have the crocs to defeat. Breathing deeply she closed her eyes feeling the wind tug at her long hair and play at the white hem of her dress, she was about to step a foot over when the wind change from a peaceful breeze to a raging gust. Opening her eye see sawth Sir Ryan approaching on the back of the dragon of Utter Despair. Just then her captor entered the tower. Her heart gave way as she fell forward. Lord Picklebottom caught her, then called out all his evil servant creatures to finish off Sir Ryan. Flocking around him they pressed in to bring him to his death.

Sir Ryan jumped from the back of the dragon and plunged into the black water of the moat. Lady Rachel awoke just at the moment to see him disappear in the depths. With every onuce of strengh she had left she rung herself from the grasp of her captor and flung herself over the balcony, and submerged beneath the deadly waves of the moat.

After emerging from the cold dark depths of the moat, Sir Ryan heardeth a loud splash behind him. Seeing the alligators on the land nearing the water, Sir Ryan decided to act fast! He doveth into the dark icy depths yet again, in despair that the person in the moat was indeed Lady Rachel, and that she was indeed okay! With a huge breath, Sir Ryan doveth into the depths in search of the fair maiden. Lady Rachel's wedding dress was so white, that it shone even in the darkest of depths, leading Sir Ryan right to her! Lord Picklebottom was an evil man, but without knowing it, he had savethed her life.

Sir Ryan scooped up Lady Rachel and emerged in the presence of burning arrows flying down from the tower! Oh no, they hath archers! Without thinking, Sir Ryan whistled to his new found steed, and the dragon descended with great speed towards Lady Rachel, and Sir Ryan.

Sir Ryan threw Lady Rachel who had not yet revived over the back of his noble steed, then turn to face the dragon, Utter Despair. Taking his sword up in hand with fiery arrows flying past inches of his life. He lunged the sword with all his strengh at the direction of Utter Despair who was diving towards him. The sword found rest in the chest of the huge beast. He plummenth down at such amazing speed Sir Ryan had to jumpth to safetl narrowly being missed by Utter Despair tail. With the beast dead the rest of the evil creatures coward back into the forest and a horrendous screech was heard above Sir Ryan. Lord Picklebottom full of rage swore that he would get his revenge and Lady Rachel would be his. Sir Ryan mounted his noble steed and raced off into the forest holding onto Lady Rachel limp body. They rode at a great pace though the darkest night. A faint glow of torches trailing behind. It was Lord Picklebottom and his army of evil creatures, gaining, gaining. Sir Ryan's noble steed was fainting and Lady Rachel was still unresponsive. Sir Ryan's hope was faltering, but he still press on and on. Deeper through the forest. His heart cried out for help any help.

Galloping faster than ever having to gallop before, Sir Ryans steed stopped suddenly, throwing Sir Ryan and Lady Rachel at the distance of 10 feet. After checking to see if Lady Rachel was okayeth quickly, Sir Ryan went to retrieve his steed. Suddenly the ground crumbled beneath him and he quickly took hold of the end of the cliff he had not seen in the utter darkness of the woods! Hearing screams, footsteps and branches cracking, Sir Ryan pulled himself up. What had just happened? Had this been the reason his trusty steed had stopped so suddenly? If it was, then Lord Picklebottom would possibly plunge to his death if the same thing was to arise! Could this be the only way out for Sir Ryan and Lady Rachel?!

No steed, and Lady Rachel unconcious... was this the end?

Quickly Sir Ryan picked up Lady Rachel and headed into the woods by on foot. It was not the speed of a trusty steed, but he was going to doeth everything within his power to make sure Lady Rachel was to reach safety!

Awakening in and out of conciousness, Lady Rachel was unawareth of the goings on, and the danger her lifeth was in. She suddenly was fully awakened by a constanth jostling and open her eyes to seeth the face of Sir Ryan focused intensly ahead and running at a great pace. Her heart warmed with in her and all the fearth melted away, for she felt safe in the arms of her rescuer. Behind them cameth a great sound of death, for all of Lord Picklebottoms army plummenth down to their doom over the cliff the Sir Ryan's steed had encounterth. Soon the wailngs of the lone Lord Picklebottom were far in the distance and the danger seemth to fade away. Stopping at the top of a mountin range Sir Ryan looked down at Lady Rachel to see she was still unresponsive. He did not know she had awakened beforeth, now she was just asleep from the exhaustion of the last fortnight. Fear grew in his heart. He had saved her from Lord Picklebottom, but had he saved her from her death?

Fainth pink and orange light streaked across the blackth canvas of the night sky. Dawn was coming. Sir Ryan placeth Lady Rachel on a soft patch pf grass and stood up surveying his surroundings. Something seemed familiar. As the sun peaked the first mountian top Sir Ryan recongnizeth that he was in the True King's territory. HOw he had managed to get there he hadth no inkling as to how, but his heart filled with hope once more and he scooped Lady Rachel up and began the acsenth down to the valley where the True King abideth.

Sir Ryan was exhausted, but with one look at the Lady Rachel and one look at where he was, he suddenly felteth like a new man. He was not sure where the new found energy had cometh from but he did not considereth for a moment to pondereth it! He had to rescue the fair Lady! So not a moment longer, Sir Ryan picked up Lady Rachel in his arms and began the trek to the great castle of the True King! It was not that far away, but the path was treacherous, and the mountains steep! Thankfully they had cleared the dark woods, and were safe from the treacherous monsters!

Nearing the peak of the mountain where the True Kings castle layed, Sir Ryan heardeth a louddddd screech from behind he and Lady Rachel! In turning around Sir Ryan to his disbelief saweth Lord Picklebottom riding in with great speed on the back of the biggest dragon he had every layed his eyes on. Quickly Sir Ryan found a safe place for the fair Lady Rachel in a cave, and prepared himself for one last battle. Lord Picklebottom was about to breatheth his last breath, and would no longer wreak havoc on this world!

The dragon Lord Picklebottom rode was the mother of Utter Despair, Fiery Death, and Sir Ryan knew that if he could just get the gold pendant around her neck he would be her new master instead of Lord Picklebottom. This would not be and eay task. For at any moment Fiery Death could blast him into charcoal with on puff. They were bearing down on him and with get hasth Sir Ryan leap into a crevice and squeezeth him self against the jagged rocks. Unseen by the peril that was bearing down on him. At the instant Fiery Death flew by Sir Ryan jumped out a caught hold of the gold chain with the pendant on it. He held on for dear life and tunged with all he was worth at the clasp. it broke free and he fell to the rocky ground.

Lady Rachel awoke in the dark and coldness of the cave all alone. Fearful once again she heard a horrenous roar out the cave entrance. She reached the mouth of the cave in time to see Sir Ryan fall to the ground with the gold pendant. Fiery Death screech to a halt flinging Lord Picklebottom to the edge of a cliff. Lord Picklebottom stood up at the edge and commanded Fiery Death to get him and finish of Sir Ryan. But Fiery Death was no longer his prisioner for when Sir Ryan had take the chain, it had freed her. Before Lord Picklebottom could spit out anouther word of hate he was ashes in the breeze. feiry Death then ascended down and landed where her new master lay unmoving on the rocky terrian.

The True King shielded His eyes against the glint of the sun on the horizon. It had been days since word of Sir Ryan had been heard from. But He knew what was to be for He was, after all, the True King. Then appearing in the distance was a figure of a large dragon. After awhile He could see on the back was Sir Ryan and the fair Lady Rachel.

When they had reached the True King's castle the townspeople were at first terrified, but their fearful hearts and cries soon turn to great noises of celebration, seeing the Knight and the Lady. The two were both in pretty bad shape, but no longer controlled by the fear of the Lord Picklebottom. They were full of joy. They came before the King and He looked at both fondly. He spoke of the great courageious bravery of Sir Ryan, who would have given his life for Lady Rachel...His Daughter! Sir Ryan had no ideath of this and looked greatly surprised. The King chuckled as Lady Rachel kissed Sir Ryan's red cheek. Then he proclaimed thoughout the nation that His daughter was to wed the noble Sir Ryan. And so is was. And they lived... happily ever after, raising a family filled with little Knights and fair ladies. Sir Ryan made sure to teach his little Knights to watch over the fair ladies, and to scare any interested parties away until the age of 18!

And that dost concludeth the tale of the brave Knight Sir Ryan, and his Fair Lady, Lady Rachel.****

THE END!

Thinking about my Jesus

Terry read this story at Fike Club...then on Thanksgiving I read it to my family. I still can't read it without getting emotional every time. How can someone be strong enough to do this!?! I am now trying hard, and it is my desire, to think about my Jesus...and how He has been oh so good to me!





Mabel's Story
It can be helpful to see how God brings about transformation in the lives of ordinary people, so I would like to introduce you to a friend of a friend of mine. Her name is Mabel. This is what my friend, Tom Schmidt, wrote:

“The state-run convalescent hospital is not a pleasant place. It is large, understaffed, and overfilled with senile and helpless and lonely people who are waiting to die. On the brightest of days it seems dark inside, and it smells of sickness and stale urine. I went there once or twice a week for four years, but I never wanted to go there, and I always left with a sense of relief. It is not the kind of place one gets used to.

“On this particular day I was walking in a hallway that I had not visited before, looking in vain for a few who were alive enough to receive a flower and a few words of encouragement. This hallway seemed to contain some of the worst cases, strapped onto carts or into wheelchairs and looking completely helpless.

“As I neared the end of this hallway, I saw an old woman strapped up in a wheelchair. Her face was an absolute horror. The empty stare and white pupils of her eyes told me that she was blind. The large hearing aid over one ear told me that she was almost deaf. One side of her face was being eaten by cancer. There was a discolored and running sore covering part of one cheek, and it had pushed her nose to one side, dropped one eye, and distorted her jaw so that what should have been the corner of her mouth was the bottom of her mouth. As a consequence, she drooled constantly. I was told later that when new nurses arrived, the supervisors would send them to feed this woman, thinking that if they could stand this sight they could stand anything in the building. I also learned later that this woman was eighty-nine years old and that she had been here, bedridden, blind, nearly deaf, and alone, for twenty-five years. This was Mabel.

“I don’t know why I spoke to her—she looked less likely to respond than most of the people I saw in that hallway. But I put a flower in her hand and said, ‘Here is a flower for you. Happy Mother’s Day.’ She held the flower up to her face and tried to smell it, and then she spoke. And much to my surprise, her words, although somewhat garbled because of her deformity, were obviously produced by a clear mind. She said, ‘Thank you. It’s lovely. But can I give it to someone else? I can’t see it, you know, I’m blind.’

“I said, ‘Of course,’ and I pushed her in her chair back down the hallway to a place where I thought I could find some alert patients. I found one, and I stopped the chair. Mabel held out the flower and said, ‘Here, this is from Jesus.’

“That was when it began to dawn on me that this was not an ordinary human being. Later I wheeled her back to her room and learned more about her history. She had grown up on a small farm that she managed with only her mother until her mother died. Then she ran the farm alone until 1950 when her blindness and sickness sent her to the convalescent hospital. For twenty-five years she got weaker and sicker, with constant headaches, backaches, and stomachaches, and then the cancer came too. Her three roommates were all human vegetables who screamed occasionally but never talked. They often soiled their bedclothes, and because the hospital was understaffed, especially on Sundays when I usually visited, the stench was often overpowering.

“Mabel and I became friends over the next few weeks, and I went to see her once or twice a week for the next three years. Her first words to me were usually an offer of hard candy from a tissue box near her bed. Some days I would read to her from the Bible, and often when I would pause she would continue reciting the passage from memory, word-for-word. On other days I would take a book of hymns and sing with her, and she would know all the words of the old songs. For Mabel, these were not merely exercises in memory. She would often stop in mid-hymn and make a brief comment about lyrics she considered particularly relevant to her own situation. I never heard her speak of loneliness or pain except in the stress she placed on certain lines in certain hymns.

“It was not many weeks before I turned from a sense that I was being helpful to a sense of wonder, and I would go to her with a pen and paper to write down the things she would say. . . .

“During one hectic week of final exams I was frustrated because my mind seemed to be pulled in ten directions at once with all of the things that I had to think about. The question occurred to me,

‘What does Mabel have to think about—hour after hour, day after day, week after week, not even able to know if it’s day or night?’ So I went to her and asked, ‘Mabel, what do you think about when you lie here?’

“And she said, ‘I think about my Jesus.’

“I sat there, and thought for a moment about the difficulty, for me, of thinking about Jesus for even five minutes, and I asked, ‘What do you think about Jesus?’ She replied slowly and deliberately as I wrote . . . : I think about how good he’s been to me. He’s been awfully good to me in my life, you know. . . . I’m one of those kind who’s mostly satisfied. . . . Lots of folks wouldn’t care much for what I think. Lots of folks would think I’m kind of oldfashioned. But I don’t care. I’d rather have Jesus. He’s all the world to me.

“And then Mabel began to sing an old hymn:
Jesus is all the world to me,
My life, my joy, my all.
He is my strength from day to day,
Without him I would fall.
When I am sad, to him I go,
No other one can cheer me so.
When I am sad He makes me glad.
He’s my friend.

“This is not fiction. Incredible as it may seem, a human being really lived like this. I know. I knew her. How could she do it? Seconds ticked and minutes crawled, and so did days and weeks and months and years of pain without human company and without an explanation of why it was all happening—and she lay there and sang hymns. How could she do it?

“The answer, I think, is that Mabel had something that you and I don’t have much of. She had power. Lying there in that bed, unable to move, unable to see, unable to hear, unable to talk to anyone, she had incredible power.”

Here was an ordinary human being who received supernatural power to do extraordinary things. Her entire life consisted of following Jesus as best she could in her situation: patient endurance of suffering, solitude, prayer, meditation on Scripture, worship, fellowship when it was possible, giving when she had a flower or a piece of candy to offer.
Imagine being in her condition and saying, “I think about how good he’s been to me. He’s been awfully good to me in my life, you know. . . . I’m one of those kind who’s mostly satisfied.” This is the Twenty-third Psalm come to life: “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.”
For anyone who really saw Mabel—who was willing to “turn aside”—a hospital bed became a burning bush; a place where this ordinary and pain-filled world was visited by the presence of God. When others saw the life in that hospital bed, they wanted to take off their shoes. The lid was off the terrarium. Then the turn came, with a catch of the breath, and a beating of the heart, and tears. They were standing on holy ground.

Do you believe such a life is possible for an ordinary human being? Do you believe it is possible for you? This is promised in the gospel—the Good News proclaimed by Jesus: “The kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” The good news as Jesus preached it is that now it is possible for ordinary men and women to live in the presence and under the power of God. The good news as Jesus preached it is not about the minimal entrance requirements for getting into heaven when you die. It is about the glorious redemption of human life—your life.