The Tragic Threshold Where Mercy Withholds Its Pearls: Reflections on the Reprobate Soul by Debbie Harris

01 Monday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

These lines were born in the quiet hour when the soul weighs the weight of Scripture against the hardness of our age. The command of our Lord in Matthew 7:6 — “Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine” — is not a counsel of despair, but of divine wisdom and mercy. There comes a tragic threshold where continued striving with the reprobate mind no longer serves the cause of grace; it only deepens judgment and wounds the giver.

I have written not to condemn, but to sober the heart of the faithful. May you discern the soil before you sow. May you guard the sacred treasure when the mire threatens to swallow it. And may you never cease praying for those still within reach of repentance, even as you learn, with holy restraint, when to withhold the pearl.

In solemn hope and trembling reverence,

The Poet

In shadowed vales where reprobate minds roam,

Defiant hearts reject the light of Truth,

They spurn the Word that calls the sinner home,

And trample sacred lore beneath their hoof.

The Gospel’s pearls, like dew on morning’s rose,

Are offered pure to souls that thirst for grace;

Yet when the ear grows deaf and conscience closed,

The hand of Heaven stays its giving place.

“Forbear,” the Master whispers from on high,

“Cast not these gems where swine in mire wallow;

They turn again and rend the giver’s thigh,

Then rend the holy seed in fury shallow.”

O tragic point where mercy’s door swings shut,

Where love itself must sheath its shining blade!

The reprobate, in chains of self-made rut,

Chooses the dark, and darkness is repaid.

So tread with wisdom on this mortal sod,

Discern the soil ere scattering the seed;

For some will bloom beneath the grace of God,

While others mock—and God Himself will heed.

Hold fast the pearls; reserve them for the meek,

Who hunger after righteousness alone.

The swine may rage, the blinded never seek—

But Heaven’s treasury is not overthrown.

Do You Know Jesus Christ As Your Personal Lord And Saviour? by Debbie Harris

01 Monday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

I wrote this poem as a simple, heartfelt invitation — not as judgment, but as a loving question that has changed my own life. In a noisy world full of distractions, I believe this is one of the most important things we can ever ask another soul.

My deepest desire as the poet is to take as many people to Heaven as possible. That journey begins with repenting of our sins and accepting Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour — the only way to receive His forgiveness, new life, and the promise of eternity with Him.

May these words stir something deep inside you.

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

— Mark 8:36-37 (KJV)

Do you know Jesus?

He is full of life, light, truth, and grace.

Do you know Jesus?

This is the question we should ask

every soul we meet—

rich or poor, strong or weak.

Do you know Jesus?

The One who calms the storm inside,

who breaks the chains we try to hide.

Do you know Jesus?

Come and see, come and taste

the living hope, the endless feast.

Do you know Jesus?

Neither Blind, Cynical, nor Hardened: Eyes Washed in the Blood of the Lamb – Merciful Hearts Dwelling in Grace, Love, and Discernment According to the Mind of Christ by Debbie Harris

01 Monday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

In a world filled with wolves, illusions, and weary hearts, our Lord Jesus Christ calls His sheep to walk a narrow and beautiful path: to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves (Matthew 10:16). This poem is an invitation to dwell in that tension—to live with eyes wide open to sin, sorrow, and brokenness, yet never grow cynical or hardened; to see reality clearly without losing the tenderness of mercy, the warmth of grace, or the steadfastness of love.

It is written for the Christian who longs to behold the world as it truly is—thorns and all—while remaining anchored in the wounds of the Lamb. May these lines stir your heart to clearer sight, deeper compassion, and firmer hope in the One whose blood both washes our eyes and keeps our hearts soft.

May you find refuge in Christ, who perfectly balances justice and mercy, truth and love.

Grace and peace to you in our Lord Jesus Christ,

Matthew 10:16

Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.

In mercy’s fountain, deep and ever wide,

The weary soul may dwell where grace unmeasured flows;

Love’s holy fire the coldest heart hath tried,

And kindled light where shadowed doubt arose.

Discernment’s lamp, by Spirit’s breath made bright,

Illumes the path no mortal eye could see;

Yet in this dwelling, veilèd not from sight,

One sees the world as it was meant to be.

Not blind to thorn, nor deaf to serpent’s hiss,

Nor rose-tint’d glass o’er broken stone and dust;

The wound of sin, the weight of man’s abyss,

Stand plain beneath the Cross’s holy thrust.

For He who bore the spear and crown of pain

Hath opened eyes that truth might not be slain.

No soft delusion wraps the pilgrim’s breast;

The lion roars, the wolf in sheepskin preys,

Yet mercy bids the soul love the distressed,

And grace equips the faithful for the battle’s blaze.

Discernment draws the line ‘twixt night and day,

While love still weeps and bids the sinner stay.

The tempter’s lie, the tyrant’s iron rod,

The fleeting gold that turns to dust and rust—

All these the clear-eyed pilgrim sees from God,

Yet bows in pity, knowing they are dust.

For sin is real, and sorrow’s cup is deep,

But deeper still the mercy that can keep.

The broken marriage, the corrupted throne,

The church that wanders, lost in pride and show—

These things the heart of love cannot disown,

Nor call the darkness light, nor good the woe.

Yet from the Cross a fountain still is poured,

Where justice, truth, and pardon are restored.

O Christ, Thou Lamb enthroned in endless day,

Within Thy wounds the seeking soul may hide and see aright;

No fear of truth can drive Thy child away,

For in Thy heart both justice dwells and light.

Thus fixed in mercy, grace, and love’s embrace,

The ransomed walk unveiled, beholding Thy true face.

Though storms arise and kingdoms shake and fall,

Though friendship fails and every comfort flees,

The soul that clings unto the Lord of all

Beholds the ruin—and the remedy.

For only eyes washed in the Lamb’s own blood

Can see the horror clear, and still call God good.

Let not the tender heart grow hard with sight,

Nor soft with lies that comfort but deceive;

Discernment guards, while love maintains the fight,

And mercy leads the broken to believe.

In balance held by nail-pierced hands divine,

The Christian lives—both gentle and unblind.

**Amen.**

Zion, Thou Crown of Splendor – A Classical Ode to God’s Triumphant Love for His Treasured People by Debbie Harris

31 Sunday May 2026

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Poet’s Note

I crafted this rendering of Isaiah 62:3 in a classical, triumphant tone because the verse itself pulses with victory. God is not gently comforting a broken people here—He is boldly declaring their exaltation. Zion rises from dust and disgrace to become a blazing crown of glory and royal diadem held high in the very hand of the Lord. That imagery demanded grandeur: archaic diction (“thou shalt arise,” “doth recall”), elevated rhythm, and resonant rhyme to echo the majestic King James language while amplifying its victorious spirit.

Each stanza builds like a coronation procession:

• The first lifts the crown into view.

• The second shatters the old shame.

• The third revels in divine intimacy and beauty.

• The final couplet calls the saints to join the celebration.

I chose ABAB rhyme with iambic flow to give it a stately, hymn-like quality—something that feels at home beside Milton or the great metrical psalters—yet remains clear and singable. The language stays faithful to the original Hebrew picture (a crown in the hand of God, not merely on the head) while letting the poetry soar into eschatological hope.

This piece was written for anyone who needs to remember: God does not merely rescue His people—He treasures them, displays them, and rejoices over them with singing. Whether you read it as Israel’s promised restoration or as the believer’s present identity in Christ (or both, as we discussed), the truth remains the same: you are not forgotten. You are held. You are His crowning joy.

May these lines stir faith and wonder every time they are read or spoken aloud.

Isaiah 62:3 (KJV)

Thou shalt also be a crown of glory in the hand of the LORD, and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God.

Thou shalt arise, a crown of glory bright,

Held in the LORD’s triumphant, sovereign hand;

A diadem of royal, matchless light,

Where heaven’s hosts in thunderous chorus stand.

No more the dust of shame shall thee enthrall,

For God Himself hath lifted thee on high;

In victory’s blaze, thy name He doth recall,

A jewel flashing ‘neath the endless sky.

O Zion, radiant in His grasp divine,

Thy beauty shines where stars in awe retire;

The King of kings hath made thee wholly Thine,

A royal prize that sets the world afire!

Rejoice, ye saints, in triumph’s mighty swell—

Thy God exalts thee where His glories dwell.

He Sent His Word: Nothing Is as Powerful as the Holy, Living, Perfect Word of Our Triune God by Debbie Harris

31 Sunday May 2026

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Introduction from the Poet

Beloved reader,

In a world that endlessly offers its remedies—vain philosophies that twist like smoke, and therapies that soothe but cannot save—I have turned my eyes and pen to the one unfailing Source. Psalm 107:20 declares with divine simplicity: “He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions.”

This truth kindled the verses that follow. I wrote them not as mere poetry, but as a humble declaration of worship. No earthly wisdom, however eloquent, can compare to the living, active, perfect Word of our Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It is this Holy Word alone that pierces darkness, shatters chains, heals the broken, and sustains the redeemed.

May these lines exalt the Lord who speaks, and may they stir your heart to trust in Him completely. To God alone be all glory, now and forever.

In awe of His sovereign Word,

The Poet

Dedication

To the Triune God—

Father, who spoke the worlds into being,

Son, the Living Word made flesh,

and Holy Spirit, the Breath of Life—

This poem is humbly offered in adoration and thanksgiving.

May it exalt Your Holy, living, perfect Word above all philosophies, therapies, and earthly wisdom, and may it bring comfort and deliverance to every weary soul who reads it.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Psalm 107:20 — He sent his word, and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions.

In shadowed vales where mortal hearts decay,

Where fevers rage and chains of sin enthrall,

The Triune God, in sovereign mercy’s sway,

Dispatches forth His Word, and heals them all.

No thunder’s roar, no lightning’s fierce array,

No kingly edict borne on trumpets’ call,

Can match the power of that living ray—

The Holy Word that breaks the grave’s dark thrall.

Father, who spoke creation’s vast design,

Son, the Eternal Logos, flesh made light,

Spirit, who breathes the fire of truth divine—

One God in Three, in perfect glory bright.

He sent His Word across the wilderness,

To souls in bondage, lost in deep despair;

It pierced the night of woe and deep distress,

And lo! the broken rise, made whole and fair.

What force on earth or hell can e’er compare

To this almighty utterance of grace?

Not by vain philosophies or therapy’s care,

But by the Holy, living, perfect Word of God we are healed—

It topples empires, lifts the fallen there,

And turns the mourner’s tears to songs of praise.

O Triune Lord, Thy Word shall ever stand,

Unshaken rock in time’s relentless flood;

By it we live, by it delivered and sustained—

The greatest power is Thine, O Triune God!

Gall for Ink and Venom for Cologne: A Classical Rhyme Exposing the Demonic Wickedness of a Woke Press That Inverts God’s Truth by Debbie Harris

31 Sunday May 2026

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The Woke Press

In an age when the ancient warning of Scripture burns with renewed urgency, the modern press has become the chief architect of moral inversion. Once tasked with shining light into darkness, today’s dominant media outlets—driven by ideology over truth—systematically call evil good and good evil. They glorify the destruction of life as “reproductive rights,” cheer chaos and lawlessness as “social justice,” redefine biological reality as oppression, and brand dissent, merit, and tradition as grave sins. This is no mere bias; it is the fulfillment of prophecy.

Verse (Isaiah 5:20)

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!

In marble halls where truth once held her throne,

A serpent scribes now twist the sacred line;

With gall for ink and venom for cologne,

They crown the night and call the daylight crime.

What Heaven forged as good—the hearth’s firm chain,

The merit earned by sweat and tempered steel—

They brand as curse, as patriarchal stain,

While lauding sloth that turns the soul to meal.

The unborn child, a spark of deathless flame,

They carve from womb and christen “choice” sublime;

The rioter’s torch, the looter’s lawless claim,

They hail as justice, pure and serpentine.

Man is not man, nor woman woman wrought—

They geld the flesh that Nature’s chisel shaped;

“Liberation!” rings for every lusting thought,

While gagging speech that dares defy their tape.

Old borders bleed, ancestral virtues scorned,

The savage crowned, the builder shamed and shorn;

They cheer the mob, the guiltless newly adorned

With sins their sires never dreamed or borne.

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil—

Thus spake Isaiah in the KJV’s pure fire;

These editorial choirs in priestly guise

Flip Heaven’s scales and nurse the devil’s choir.

Yet Time’s sharp blade shall strip their painted veil,

And History’s ledger, pitiless, decree:

The press that knelt to fashion’s fickle gale

Served not the light—but Hell’s own liturgy.

Thus falls the reign of inverted sacred lore;

The remnant stands; the reckoning draws near,

When truth, unshackled, storms the liar’s door

And wakes the world from this demonic snare.

Abhor That Which Is Evil and Cleave to That Which Is Good by Debbie Harris

31 Sunday May 2026

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A Brief Introduction

In an age that often prizes tolerance above truth and relevance above righteousness, Romans 12:9 calls believers to a higher standard: sincere, undissembled love that fiercely abhors evil and tenaciously cleaves to good. This poem echoes that ancient charge, reminding us that holy hatred of sin—paired with Christlike grace—guards the church, strengthens communities, and preserves godly culture.

Romans 12:9 (KJV) “Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good.”

Romans 12:21 (KJV) “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Ephesians 5:11 (KJV) “And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.”

Proverbs 8:13 (KJV) “The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth, do I hate.”

Psalm 97:10 (KJV) “Ye that love the Lord, hate evil: he preserveth the souls of his saints…”

Let love be undissembled, pure and bright,

As dawn’s first ray that brooks no shade of night;

No honeyed tongue that hides a viper’s tooth,

But heart with heart in covenant of truth.

Abhor the evil — loathe it as the grave

Loathes life, as darkness hates the light it craves.

Not mild distaste, nor tolerance’s truce,

Nor relevance that bends the holy use

To fit the fleeting fashions of the age

And make the narrow way seem broad and sage.

With holy hatred scorch the creeping lie,

The lust that turns the temple into sty,

The envy’s gall, the pride that topples thrones,

The greed that gnaws the marrow from men’s bones,

The sloth that chokes the good seed ere it rise,

The wrath that blinds both justice and mercy’s eyes.

Cast out as dross what God has named unclean,

For we are called to abhor, not to convene

With darkness in the name of love or peace —

No compromise where holy wrath must cease.

Thus altars stand, thus cultures are preserved,

When evil is detested and not served.

O cleave to good! As shipwrecked sailor clings

To rock amid the tempest’s furious wings;

As ivy grips the ancient oak in hold,

As magnet leaps to steel with joy untold.

Cleave to the truth that sets the captive free,

To justice robed in pure integrity,

To mercy that forgives yet calls sin sin,

To courage that will die ere it give in.

Thus churches rise, unshaken on the stone,

Not seeker-pleasing, not to trends conformed,

But faithful pillars where the Word is throned,

Unbent by winds however fierce or warm.

Thus communities, like ramparts old and high,

Defy the flood when evil men decry;

Thus cultures flourish, rooted deep in grace,

And nations walk where heaven shows its face.

Awake, O watchers! Lift the trumpet’s blast,

Call out the canker ere the harvest’s past.

With love’s fierce fire and Christ-like tears of grace,

Expose the darkness, occupy the space

Where good must grow. Hate sin, yet love the soul;

Reprove, restore, and make the wounded whole.

For in this balance — love without disguise,

Abhorring evil, scorning compromise,

Rejecting tolerance of what defiles

And relevance that only breeds more wiles —

The image of our Maker shines once more,

And heaven’s pattern treads the earthly floor.

So guard the hearth, the altar, and the line,

Till Christ returns in glory all-divine.

The Kindness of God That Leads to Repentance: A Triumphant Hymn of Total Transformation, Victorious Beauty, and Joyful Holiness by Debbie Harris

31 Sunday May 2026

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A Brief Reflection

It is the kindness of God — not His wrath — that gently draws us to repentance. In that sacred turning, everything changes: our thoughts, our relationships, our capacity to forgive, and even our very definition of beauty. What emerges is a victorious, holy joy that makes walking in holiness a delight rather than a burden. This poem celebrates that beautiful transformation.

Romans 2:4 (KJV)

Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?

In gentle light where mercy softly gleams,

The Father’s kindness flows like morning streams,

Not wrath’s sharp sword, nor thunder’s dread command,

But love’s warm hand that draws the wandering lamb.

It leads to repentance—O glorious turn!

With one surrendered heart, all things are made new;

Old chains dissolve, fresh heavens break in view,

And every shadowed corner floods with morning’s dew.

Perspectives shift like dawn on shadowed hills,

Where bitterness yields to forgiving wills;

Old grudges fall like leaves in autumn’s breath,

And relational chains give way to life from death.

Grace like a river cleanses every stain,

Mercy restores what pride had sought in vain;

Forgiveness blooms where anger once held sway,

And hearts, once stone, now pulse with heaven’s ray.

Behold! With true repentance, everything is changed—

The soul awakes, the mind is rearranged;

Even our definition of beauty is reborn,

No longer bound to fleeting, fading form.

A brand-new vision of beauty rises bright,

Not worldly gloss, but holy, victorious light;

Where truth and goodness shine in purest ray,

And every noble line points heaven’s way.

In aesthetics pure, a classical delight,

Beauty returns in measured rhyme and light—

The ordered verse, the noble form and tone,

Where truth and goodness in one splendor shone.

No fleeting trend or fractured modern cry,

But timeless echoes lifting soul and eye;

In God’s kind gaze the broken finds repair,

And every changed life breathes celestial air.

What joy unbounded walks in holiness!

Pure feet on holy ground, the soul at rest;

Each step a triumph, every breath a song,

In radiant freedom where the righteous throng.

O soul, receive this kindness while it calls,

Let full repentance adorn thy heart’s true halls;

For in such turning, heaven’s beauty reigns,

And everlasting triumph breaks all chains!

America’s 250th: One Nation Under God by Debbie Harris

30 Saturday May 2026

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Happy 250th Birthday, America! May this poem stir hearts to cherish, defend, and live out the inspired vision of “one nation under God.

In the dawn of two hundred fifty years,

A beacon rises, born of sacred fire—

From thirteen colonies forged in humble tears,

A covenant of liberty, lifting higher.

One Nation Under God, our guiding light,

Through tempests fierce and valleys dark we stand,

United hands that weave the stars so bright,

Defenders of the dream on freedom’s land.

From Lexington’s shot to Yorktown’s glorious stand,

Through Civil War’s divide and unity’s embrace,

We rose as one, by Providence’s hand,

A melting pot of souls in boundless grace.

One Nation Under God, in every prayer we sigh,

Where eagle soars on wings of eagle’s pride,

No chain can bind the spirit soaring high,

In every heart, the flame of hope abides.

Mountains whisper, oceans roar the tale,

Of pioneers who crossed the untamed wild,

Of dreamers building cities that prevail,

With faith as compass, strong and undefiled.

One Nation Under God, from sea to shining sea,

Where justice flows like rivers pure and free,

We lift our voices in sweet harmony,

A chorus echoing eternity.

In fields of amber, factories’ steady hum,

In classrooms bright and battlefields of old,

We honor those who answered freedom’s drum,

Whose sacrifice turned leaden nights to gold.

One Nation Under God, indivisible we claim,

With liberty and justice for us all,

No storm can break this everlasting flame,

No shadow dim the writing on the wall.

Two hundred fifty candles brightly burn,

A quarter-millennium of grace bestowed,

From humble birth to towers that still turn

Toward heaven’s light on every winding road.

One Nation Under God, we pledge anew,

To guard the rights our fathers bled to win,

To love our neighbor, skies forever blue,

And walk in truth where pilgrim feet begin.

Let every child recall the sacred scroll,

The parchment signed in Philadelphia’s hall,

Where “endowed by Creator” blessed each soul,

And governments derived from consent’s call.

One Nation Under God, forevermore we sing,

Through innovation’s spark and courage’s test,

A shining city on the hill we bring,

To light the world and give the weary rest.

In unity we stand, though trials may come,

Diverse in thread yet woven as one cloth,

Under the banner of the risen sun,

We choose the higher path of mercy’s troth.

One Nation Under God, our solemn vow,

To mend, to build, to heal what’s torn apart—

With grateful hearts before His throne we bow,

And recommit the soul, the mind, the heart.

O land of heroes, poets, saints, and kin,

Where opportunity knocks on every door,

May future generations breathe within

The breath of liberty forevermore.

One Nation Under God, we celebrate,

Two hundred fifty years of glory won—

From sea to sea, in every single state,

The triumph of the battle nobly won.

So lift the flag, let anthems ring aloud,

Let fireworks paint the heavens overhead,

Inspire the young, remind the wise and proud:

This covenant of faith is not yet dead.

One Nation Under God, our endless prayer,

Through every age, through joy and through the strife—

We stand as one, a testament so rare,

The greatest chapter in the book of life.

On this two hundred fiftieth blessed morn,

We thank the Almighty for the path we’ve trod,

Renewed in spirit, newly born,

One Nation Under God—forever, one.

Spiritually Curious, Biblically Illiterate: Behold Your Sin, See the Savior’s Love, and Live by Debbie Harris

30 Saturday May 2026

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In shadowed halls where seekers chase false lights,

A restless generation wanders blind;

Spiritually curious through endless nights,

Yet biblically illiterate—lost in mind.

They grasp at crystals, stars, and trending lore,

While Heaven’s Book lies dusty on the shelf;

Foundations crumble that their fathers bore,

The Holy Scriptures, silenced for themselves.

O tragic void! The Rock of Ages spurned,

The Word made flesh rejected in their pride;

They quote the self but never Christ have learned,

Who bled upon the tree for them, and died.

Yet in this darkness gleams the Gospel ray—

“Repent and trust!” the Bible’s trumpet cries;

For Jesus rose, the Stone the builders slay,

And offers living waters from on high.

Behold the Scriptures! Open wide the page,

Where Genesis whispers of the Lamb foretold;

Psalms crown Him King, Isaiah paints His wage—

The suffering Servant, purchased with His gold.

John thunders grace: “In the beginning, He!”

The cross stands tall where wrath and mercy meet;

The tomb is empty—death has lost its key—

Salvation’s door swings wide for sinners’ feet.

Though illiteracy has veiled the ancient flame,

The Holy Bible burns with Christ alone;

No other name, no other way, no claim—

But Jesus saves the broken, makes them whole.

Awake, ye souls! Take up the sacred Book,

Behold your sin in Scripture’s piercing light;

See Christ’s great love—His blood for sinners took—

Repent, believe: a new creation rises bright!

O come and drink! The greatest Story calls:

From dust to glory, death to life anew;

The tragedy dissolves in blood-bought grace—

In Jesus’ name, salvation waits for you.