Ain’t That A VHIT
By Von C. Howard
As a young boy who has matriculated into a semi-successful adult man, I have learned that life rarely teaches in straight lines. Some lessons arrive wrapped in encouragement and affirmation. Others come through hard knocks, moments that shake your confidence and force you to confront who you are when things do not go as planned. For a long time, I believed what looked like misfortune, mine or someone else’s, was simply bad luck. With time, reflection, and grace, I now understand that many of those moments were lessons within a lesson, shaping my maturity, my character, and my purpose.
Growing up, I watched family members I loved struggle with life’s stumbling blocks. I witnessed addiction quietly take root and saw temporary losses of self, good people losing direction under the weight of pain, pressure, and unresolved trauma. As a young boy, I did not yet have the language to name what I was seeing, but I felt it deeply. Those experiences taught me early that struggle does not discriminate and that strength does not mean immunity from hardship. Sometimes love looks like patience. Sometimes it looks like prayer. And sometimes it looks like standing nearby while someone finds their way back.
My own relationships became classrooms as well. I have been part of connections that unraveled not because love was missing, but because communication was misaligned, expectations went unspoken, and pride replaced humility. I learned that intentions do not always equal impact and that silence, when clarity is needed, can wound just as deeply as harsh words. Those lessons forced me inward, requiring accountability and growth beyond who I was at the time.
The workplace delivered some of my most humbling lessons. I once lost employment during a season when I believed I was doing more than what was required, giving extra effort, extra hours, and extra commitment. In my mind, I was proving my worth. In theirs, there were alternative ideas. That moment taught me a hard truth: hard work does not always guarantee security, and effort is often measured through someone else’s lens.
I also learned painful lessons about trust, about how kindness is often mistaken for weakness, and how an extended hand is not always offered for a warm embrace. In environments where collaboration was assumed, there was never a true notion of attaining collective goals, only the gradual revelation of ornery and manipulative personal agendas. What appeared to be teamwork was individual ambition disguised as partnership, attaching itself to fortune when things went well and quietly detaching when misfortune surfaced. I did not see it coming, nor did I expect it.
Those moments taught me how to smile through pain and suppress anger, believing endurance was the same as healing. Over time, I learned that unaddressed pain does not disappear, it compounds.
A hard-knock life teaches in ways no manual ever could. It invites repentance, not only spiritually, but emotionally and mentally. Now, as a man still becoming, I understand that these lessons carry responsibility. It is my duty to help someone else, be it younger, the same age, or older, understand that losing a job does not strip them of their value, that betrayal does not cancel purpose, and that grace still applies even when life feels unfair.
Through these lessons, I have gained a deeper sense of self-worth and gratitude. Gratitude for the moments that redirected me when I could not see the turn. Gratitude for clarity born from confusion. Gratitude for grace, extended by God and by people who saw beyond my missteps.
Gratitude for grace is not forgetting the pain; it is recognizing the purpose within it. Learning lessons with a lesson has taught me that survival is only the beginning. Maturation is the goal. Gratitude is the posture. Grace is the covering. And when we use what we have learned to help someone else grow, the lesson becomes legacy.
