IN LIFE’S SLOW MARCH WE GROW SO COLD     

In life’s slow march we grow so cold,
Our hearts like stones, our spirits old.
We age unseen, like greying hair,
Until a photo shows the wear.

Once eager, spontaneous, and free,
Now hard and bitter, can’t you see?
Hospitality, joy, they fade away,
Replaced by shadows, dull and gray.

We mirror gaze, we think we’re the same,
But old snapshots reveal the shame.
Compassion lost, joy turned to dust,
In life’s harsh grind, we lose our trust.

A prayer for hearts to soften and mend,
To find the joy we once did tend.
Moments of grace, to bring us back,
To love, to laugh, to find the track.

“Pray always,” is a call to keep,
Even when it’s in silence deep.
For in those moments, hearts can heal,
And regain the childlike joy we once did feel.

By Medard Laz

This poem is an honest examination of how life can quietly harden the heart. It names a truth we rarely admit: aging is not only physical, it is spiritual.

Without noticing, we can trade openness for caution, joy for defense, hospitality for self-protection. The old photographs do not accuse us; they reveal what once came naturally and now requires intention.

Yet the poem does not end in regret. It turns toward prayer as a daily discipline of renewal. “Pray always” is not a demand for constant words, but an invitation to remain open, even in silence.

Prayer becomes the place where the heart softens again, where trust is slowly restored, and where childlike joy is not recovered by nostalgia, but reborn through grace. The poem reminds us that while life may wear us down, God is always willing to shape us anew — if we pause, pray, and let ourselves be changed.

How is childlike joy within YOU not being recovered by nostalgia, but being reborn by God’s grace?

THE MOST DANGEROUS LIES ARE THE LIES YOU TELL YOURSELF!!  —  GOD

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