THE MARCHING CLOCK OF TIME

[JoanOfArc 4604]

THE MARCHING CLOCK OF TIME

Written by Father Temesch

Published from Kaer'Lassar

In honor of Ven. Father Paco † and Lector Isaac †

 

An depiction of the fall of Johannesburg, by Father Temesch with some artistic liberties, 1862.

 

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When I was studying that of the clerical field as requested by my priestly father, I thought very little of the circumstances that pertained to adulthood. Adulthood was a far-off concept that was barely relevant to me and my life. Even when I, at last, left my familial home of Rosemoor to forsake the Imperial Bureaucracy I would have prided myself in and took a pilgrimage to be baptized by the Lectorate, still yet I felt little about adulthood. More and more, I felt like a piece of clay, molded and shaped into the Owynist and child of God I was supposed to be by my godfather. My world gave me up to others to decide for me. All seemed well with the world, and the world was much simpler. 

 

And then my godfather died.

 

The world was now one of agony and turmoil, of sorrow and grief. The childhood I clung on to was taken from me suddenly, and I found a world where the godfather I had lost. Where is my teacher? Where is my guardian? Where is my guide? My father has passed, and my godfather has passed. I am fatherless in a world devoid of happiness and joy. I miss the familiarity of life and the routine of it. I am told to look into the future, and yet all I can do is see the past.

 

But the Marching Clock of Time passes without consent or knowledge. I have married, I have children, and those children are growing despite my wishes for them not to. My wife looks to me now for advice and counsel, and my children look to me for wisdom and love. I cannot provide everything like my predecessors who stood fast against the villainy of this world. I wish to be kind, holy, and loving like them to my wife and children. But am I?

 

I let my emotions get the better of me, they overwhelmed me—those passions of the flesh. The demons influence my being, but I am not manipulated by any of them. I chose my path of evil and greed. I chose this way. When the judgment in the next life by God in the Heavens and the Saints Above happens, I will be full of iniquity. 

 

My teachers knew what to say to guide me back on the path of holiness, but without them here - can I still redeem myself? Is there still time for a sinful man to repent off of his wicked path? I cower behind the fickleness of time to protect me. I am praying that the days go by slowly so I do not need to take responsibility for my actions any longer. But my excuses do not ring as true as they did in my youth. It was all the fault of a man my age, but none of it was the fault of a child.

 

I am scared of the future. I wished for a better future for my offspring, and yet I will have to leave them in a world full of war and famine, But I am a man now. This is true. A priest meant to guide a flock and a husband meant to guide his wife and children. I am what my father and godfather were, despite not wishing for the roles.

 

I must let go of my past youth and embrace my new tasks from the Lord. I have done what he wished, and though his silence on what to do next is deafening, I shall with the fullness of my being.

 

My Father? Do you smile upon your child in the next life?

Godfather? Do you smile upon your godson in the next life?

Do any saints smile upon me now?

I let go of my wish to be forever young and embrace this new life.

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St. Jude of Petrus, pray for us

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