How often cruel becomes the human heart
That drifts away from Jesus Christ the Lord,
No longer walks where living mercy starts—
It does not change its wrath to healing word.
It weighs the world by profit, guarded gain,
Sees every need as burden, every plea
As weakness to dismiss or bind with chain.
The wounded pass unseen, in silence flee.
Compassion fades; the gentle word grows rare.
It raises thrones on others’ quiet pain,
Calls justice what is only self’s own care,
And rests untouched by sorrow’s long refrain.
Without that daily communion, day by day,
The soul grows blind to light it once could see.
The heart that will not linger starts to stray
And gathers thorns its own neglect sets free.
Yet let that heart return, draw near the cross,
Speak honestly beneath the Savior’s gaze,
And feel the mercy that redeems all loss—
Then stone gives way to flesh in quiet praise.
The fist unclenches. Anger learns to yield.
The stranger finds a neighbor, not a threat.
What once was cruel now walks through open fields,
A channel where forgiveness freely met.
So keep the Lord in constant, quiet view—
In prayer, in Scripture, in the daily walk.
The heart that stays in Him is born anew;
The one that wanders chooses its own dark.
Stay close. The distance hardens into stone.
Near Christ, the cruel heart is overthrown.