Mighty Ordok

While Heryshaf sat at his uncle's side, across the field stood Ordok, chief of all Sheepdom.

In his youth Ordok had contemplated thoughts similar to Heryshaf's many times.

“So many young sheep and lambs,” he thought, “will never fulfil their potential.”

They spent too much time worrying about how they looked, how others felt about them, or what they would do when they were older. They did not focus on their own performance, their own principles and their own aims. Instead of bravery, they hid themselves, denied themselves — preferring to “fit in” or “not stand out” from the crowd.

He thought back to his own youth.

He had forced such thoughts out of his mind and got on with it.

Now, in his old age, he was chief of all Sheepdom. He looked over his life with pride. He had started with nothing and now had everything — everything except his youth, which he would have given it all back for.

He knew that, after many years, young sheep like Heryshaf would look back and see just how beautiful they really had been in their youth; just how much potential had lain before them.

All they needed was courage to be true to themselves.

“Truly one's hopes and dreams make life worth living,” he thought.

Now his hopes fell on the next generation of young lambs. He had such high expectations of them. He desperately wanted them to do well in life, to be respected, to work hard; to be just like him.

Yes, sometimes he was overly strict, yet he just wanted the best for them.

He just wanted them to know the correct way: his way.

“If only you could see that no one owns their lambs,” his brother had once told him. “You can seek to be like them but never to make them like you.”

If only he had listened to the advice his father had given him on the same subject. If only he had humbled himself and taken their advice, then maybe his lambs would not have grown up to be the rebellious lambs they now were.

Ordok resented his brother because of his well-behaved kids. He resented him for the self-righteous advice he'd given him.

He just knew what his brother and his father, both long passed away and now with the Good Shepherd, were thinking.

They were looking down on him, smiling smugly.

“We told you so!”

Truthfully, Ordok resented everyone.

He had lived a good life.

A holy life.

A life of example.

He had always walked in the Good Shepherd's path.

Why was it, then, that the Good Shepherd had forsaken him and given him rebellious lambs?

Where was He now?