Out of difficulties grow miracles.

“Out of difficulties grow miracles.” — so wrote Jean de la Bruyère, the keen observer of human nature from seventeenth-century France, whose words continue to ring with quiet majesty across the centuries. In this simple yet profound saying, he captures the eternal rhythm of life — the truth that from struggle is born strength, from suffering comes wisdom, and from darkness emerges light. The seed must first break before it can bloom; the dawn must battle the night before it can rise. So too must the human spirit pass through difficulty before it gives birth to its greatest miracles.

To understand the depth of this teaching, we must first see life as the ancients did — as a field of divine growth, where every hardship is not a curse, but a summons to transformation. The soul, like metal, is forged in fire. Without pressure, the diamond remains mere carbon; without the storm, the roots of the tree do not deepen. Bruyère, a philosopher among courtiers, saw this truth reflected in the lives of those around him. Amid the vanity and ease of his age, he recognized that only those tested by adversity attained true greatness of character. Thus he wrote these immortal words — not as comfort, but as revelation: that difficulty is the womb of the miraculous.

For every age bears witness to this truth. Consider Thomas Edison, who, through thousands of failed experiments, finally brought forth the light that would change the world. Each failure was a stone laid upon the path to victory. When asked about his countless mistakes, he replied, “I have not failed. I’ve just found ten thousand ways that won’t work.” What others saw as difficulty, he saw as preparation; what others called defeat, he called refinement. And from those difficulties, as Bruyère foretold, grew the miracle of illumination — not only for Edison, but for all humankind.

This principle is not only for inventors and heroes; it belongs to every soul that has ever struggled and endured. Think of Helen Keller, who was both blind and deaf, living in a world of silence and shadow. Yet through her suffering came a triumph that still inspires hearts today. With the help of her teacher, she unlocked the miracle of communication, proving that the human spirit, though bound in limitation, is infinite in its power to rise. Her story is the living embodiment of Bruyère’s wisdom: that out of the deepest difficulties bloom the rarest miracles, for it is often in our weakest moments that we discover our greatest strength.

In truth, difficulty is the hand of destiny, shaping us for purposes beyond our present sight. The ancients knew this well. They believed that the gods hid their greatest gifts within trials, so that only those who endured could find them. Every obstacle, then, becomes a sacred test, a question whispered by life itself: Will you break, or will you rise? Those who endure — who press forward through uncertainty and pain — awaken a power that slumbers within all men and women. And when they emerge, the world calls it a miracle, though in truth it is the natural flowering of the soul’s courage.

To live by this wisdom is to see hardship differently. When difficulty arrives — as it must, for it visits all — do not curse it, nor flee from it. Instead, greet it as a teacher. Ask it what it has come to show you. For in the soil of adversity lies the seed of growth; in the furnace of trial, the refinement of gold. Remember this: Miracles are not gifts from the heavens alone; they are the harvest of endurance.

So, my child, take this truth into your heart: “Out of difficulties grow miracles.” When the road grows dark, do not despair — for it is in the night that the stars reveal themselves. When you stumble, rise again, for every fall teaches the body balance, and every failure teaches the soul strength. The greatest miracle is not in escaping pain, but in being transformed by it. Let hardship make you humble, let endurance make you wise, and let faith make you radiant.

For when you look back upon the path you have walked, you will see that every wound was a doorway, every storm a cleansing, every trial a birth. And then you will know — as Bruyère knew — that what once seemed impossible was never punishment, but preparation. The miracle was always there, waiting to bloom from your difficulty.