A Season in Hell

A Season in Hell

You can’t take the measure of a man
When things are going well:
You can only see what he’s made of
When he spends a season in hell…

We all want a life
Of prosperity, pleasure and ease,
Free of pain, grief and adversity:
But life is ornery and unpredictable,
Full of contrariness and perversity….

Trials and tribulations will arrive,
And heartache in their wake,
We all reach a point when we wonder
How much more can we take?

Life will pound and pummel you,
And knock you to the ground,
You’ll look for solace from friends,
But there is none to be found…

(The forge upon which men are shaped
By repeated hammer blows
Is the suffering we experience
As our trust in Jesus grows…)

…It is at just this moment
As you lie, dazed and bleeding,
You decide to put up one helluva fight:
It doesn’t matter where this is leading:

You commit to living like a man,
Or dying like one, if it must be,
For there are worse things than death,
Such as a life of shame and infamy.

Resolve that they can kill you,
If it’s in their power,
But they won’t frighten or stop you,
Or threaten you till you cower…

(The fire burns away the dross,
And purifies our souls,
The divine Blacksmith knows just
How much to fan the coals.)

Fight the battle with fierceness,
Never surrender your God-given being,
Nor concede an inch to the devil,
Stand firm while others are fleeing…

(You are the instrument of Truth
God has fashioned with precision:
Whether a sword or a ploughshare
Is entirely His decision.)

A man can only be judged once
He’s drained the dregs of life’s cup:
For it’s not how many times he falls,
But how many times he gets up.

Joseph L. Campanello © 2023