The begginning of the end

As I lie here in bed I am overwhelmed with emotion. Anger and rage fill my body. A sense of revenge over takes me and tears away the very thing I desire, sleep. No longer do I walk the hallowed halls of congress, nor do I sit in the oval office with the powerful. But yet all my mind and body desire, and craves for is power, glory, and the respect of man. I value what men think so highly rather than what God thinks. But yet in my journey I come again to another crossroads. Do I follow Gods plan or set off on my own plan of glory and splendor. Or are they parallel. Can I reach those lofty goals I have in my life and still complete Gods calling on my life? Will I ever see those things that I desire so greatly. I know deep within my soul a fire burns. It permeates every part of me till there is nothing left. It scorches the very being of who I am. I know, somehow I just know that I am destined for greatness and glory. But how do I achieve it and what vehicle will it take me to that goal. I had glory once but it was taken away by a tumor, I had it again but it was taken away by opportunity, I had it another time and it was taken away by the call of God. It is so sweet. The taste of it is sweet to my mouth but yet it is ripped away from me at every chance it goes there and I am left to ponder the thought of will it ever return. I enjoy the monotony of sitting at a desk for ten hours a day researching and strategizing for my political party. It gives me a sense of worth and a sense of greatness. But in this there lies a paradigm shift of beliefs and struggles. Why must I battle with my flesh so much? Why is it harder for me to focus on the task at hand rather than look to memories of the past and the glory I once attained. Or look to the future and smell the power. Power is what I crave. The ability to be in a place of decision making. People have said I will do great things. They have prophesieid saying I would be known throughout the land and have the respect of man. I feel that this can only be accomplished in the realm of politics. But yet I have a deep feeling of commitment to my calling. Could I have gotten it all so terribly wrong? Should I still be today walking the halls of congress and be among the movers and shapers of our glorious union? Having the power to shape the very face of our society with the stroke of a pen. Should I be in a foxhole in some God forsaken country fighting for the very freedoms I hold dear. Having the power to take a mans life and send him to meet God almighty laying there in my hands. It was once like this. It was once in my power to do both. It was once so easy to do it. The flick of the wrist and the twitch of a finger were the avenues to produce this. And now it seems as if it is now only a mere distant memory and an altruistic thought. I know I will bring glory to my families name. I will place it on a pedestal high up for the nation and world to know. But yet in that thought lies the undying question of how? How will I do such an amazing feat of will. I have the mental tenacity to continue on my journey…but for how long. How long can a man sit and ponder the past and anticipate the future. How long can a man sit idly by as the world around him grows and matures into a new era. The nation is changing, for the worse and I feel it is my place and possibly purpose to help oppose this. But yet a roadblock stands in my way. My calling to the ministry. Is there a way to merge the two? Can I serve my cake and eat it too? Will my past become a factor. As the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months and the months into years I feel as if the opportunity to enter the wonderful exciting world of politics is rapidly passing me by and leaving me behind in the dust. If this is not what I am destined for I wish for nothing more than the sheer desire to be stripped away from me so that I may continue on the path that I am on now. And if this is in my future I pray that it will become so vitally evident that all men including myself will be able to see this is where I am heading.
I miss those steps. I miss climbing the steps of the capitol. I miss the feel of the marble and the untold history that has strolled on it. I miss walking the halls and people knowing who I was because of who I worked for. I miss walking the halls of the White House and seeing the famous political figures of our time. I miss the motorcades and the power that a 19 year old boy held by a mere penstroke. Where now do I go. From here where can I go.