Destiny? The very word sends thrills through my very heart. The fire of passion lights within me, and my being trembles in awe. Destiny...the purpose God Almighty Himself has laid out for His servants, each individuals own private blueprint of life, the perfect use of God's creation in full rapport and agreement with His will.
Marriage to the perfect woman? Children of unlimited character and quality? Reformation of nations? Triumph of good over evil, with the the very banner carried by the likes of Churchill, Washington, Lincoln, yes, Christ Himself. Salvation for billions in the path of Billy Graham. Destiny...the thrill of knowing God is with you. What is it for me?
Fiction and history both deluge forth examples to follow, in the Star Wars universe, can anyone not create a personal likeness that would love to posses in that world? Can a perusal of history fail to produce a role model? In whatever one sees, cannot one find a role to be filled?
Yet, in this world, reality seems to cloud the clear vision of fiction and past fact. The highly defined lines of stories and dreams blear before the eyes of the present and the now. Yet...the inspiration remains...the dream lives on.
What were the heroes of the world thinking at 20 years of age? Washington was busily surveying the wild country beyond the Appalachians, little thinking perhaps that Destiny held for him the honor of heading the birth of a world super-power. Did Jesus know in the carpentry shop the the cross and eternal salvation for all was His quest? Churchill at my age was getting shot at in South Africa, to coin his famous phrase, "Nothing in the world is so exhilarating as to be shot at with no effect." Already his wit had revealed itself. Did Ronald Reagan have any idea what awaited him in his later years? Does a John Doe have any inkling of his life's path? Yet life goes on...
My very soul longs for the glories and triumphs of the men before me, "what am I to do?" is my prayer. The good they were able to do, the people they saved, the advancements they made, all culminating with us, in the here and now. The triumphs, the dreams, the visions, yes, even the defeats, the failings, they all lie at our feet, waiting for us to take them on to our children, and our grandchildren. What they do with them rests with themselves and God, but right now, they are ours to grasp, to hold, to run on this leg of the human experience. Who grasps? Who holds? Who is worthy of this cause?
Will the futile, the frivolous, do these causes honor? Will the stench of godlessness rule our generation? Or will we take up the sword of rightousness and strike the beast to the ground? What will be done? What will I do? What will you do?