In the school of hard knocks, no one intentionally enrolls.
We are chosen attendees by happenstance, by bad choices and/or by Design.
Credentials and merit are of no significance. A scoring system is nonexistent.
Graduates from the school of hard knocks become hardened or hardy.
With knuckles white in clenching anger, we continue to fight, fume and flail.
With stamina like an oak by Living Water, we dig deeper into strength, life and vitality.
“Mara” we cry out in bitterness and despair.
“Abba” we cry out for comfort and hope.
Job was blessed immeasurably more in riches, in love and in patience.
Jabez was blessed indeed and was protected from evil.
Rahab was the scarlet woman yet her faith became the scarlet thread of royal lineage.
Mary was an unsuspecting child yet with favor she was found, blessed among women.
There can be beauty yet still ready to bloom from underneath the suffering.
There can be life yet ready to burst from the midst of ashes.
The funeral dirge is not the last song to be heard.
For from the school of hard knocks, the melodies of Love’s message are written.