In All Things by Debbie Harris

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Let thought be a cathedral where His name
echoes through vaulted silence, stone by stone.
Let every word we utter wear His light
like incense rising, slow and luminous.

Let action carve His glory into time—
each gesture a chisel, each step a prayer.
Let gifts fall open-palmed, unmeasured, bright
as rain on parched and unexpected ground.

Let blessings bloom unbidden in the dark,
small fires along the ridge of daily life.
Let labor wear His name across the shoulders,
sweat turning sacred under heaven’s gaze.

Within the fragile ark of family,
where laughter fractures into quiet tears,
let Him be glorified in broken bread
and hands that reach across the table’s wood.

Let every goal burn upward like a flare,
and hope—thin-winged, trembling—still ascend
through gales that split the sky and shake the heart.

In golden hours and in the iron ones,
in triumph’s trumpet and in sorrow’s ash,
in all the shifting weather of our days—

may Jesus Christ, our King, be forever glorified!

Gloria Omnia by Debbie Harris

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In the secret halls of thought, where reason bends and dreams take flight,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In every syllable we speak, on lips that breathe both praise and prayer,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In all our deeds, both great and small, wrought by the hand and guided heart,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In offerings pure and freely given, from grateful souls in bounty blessed,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In every blessing heaven bestows, like morning dew on verdant field,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In daily toil and honest labor, beneath the weight of sun and sweat,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

Within the sacred bonds of kin, in hearth and home where love abides,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In aspirations high and noble, in goals that point toward heaven’s gate,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In hopes that soar on wings of faith through tempests dark and trials deep,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

In days of light and nights of sorrow, in triumph sweet and bitter cross,
In every season of our living, in joy and grief, in gain and loss—

In all our lives, from first to last,
May Jesus Christ be glorified.

Amen. Amen.

From the High and Lifted Throne to the Repentant Heart: Hallelujah, What a Savior by Debbie Harris

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In Uzziah’s death, when Judah’s sceptre fell,
I saw the Lord upon His throne on high,
Exalted far above where mortals dwell,
His flowing train of glory filled the sky.
The temple glowed with uncreated light,
Where seraphim stood burning, pure and bright.

Six wings each flaming seraph bore in state:
With two he veiled his face from glory’s blaze,
With two he hid his feet in reverent wait,
With two he flew through heaven’s endless maze.
One cried to one in voices like the sea,
“Holy, holy, holy, Lord of Hosts is He!

”Thrice rang the cry through courts of crystal fire,
“Holy!”—each note a sun that pierced the night;
“The whole earth swells with glory’s vast empire,
From ocean deep to mountain’s crown of light.”
The doorposts shook as thunder filled the dome,
And clouds of incense veiled the eternal throne.

When earthly kings to silent dust descend,
The King eternal reigns in robes of flame;
His hem alone makes every realm bend,
And all creation sings His matchless name.

This selfsame Christ, whose glory fills the skies,
Desires to dwell within each heart that cries
In true repentance, placing faith in Him—
Hallelujah! What a Savior! Let all praise begin.

Overflow by Debbie Harris

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My heart is full of Christ.
And so I write.

Ink stirs where blood once failed,
each syllable a vein of grace.
The Cross still rises in my chest—
its shadow lengthens down the page.

I do not write to crown the stars
nor carve my name where stone forgets.
I write because He wrote me first
upon the wounds that stilled my breath.

Grace seeps from the pen’s worn edge
like water from a fractured clay,
clear, unbidden, bearing light
through every crack that will not close.

Hope rises slow in resurrection lines
while sorrow learns the lift of minor keys.

My heart, brimmed full and trembling still,
spills not as one who has arrived,
but as one carried, held, and led—
word after quiet word,
breath after trembling breath,
line after fragile line.

Two Versions of a Prayer: From the Heart to the Page by Debbie Harris

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I wrote this prayer out of a deep desire to acknowledge that all true wisdom comes from the Lord alone. Below are two versions: the original, which came straight from my heart, and a more literary revision that leans into poetic craft while keeping the same spirit of dependence and worship. I’d love to hear which one speaks to you more—and why.


Original Version

Lord, we have no wisdom apart from You,
You are our Wisdom, holy, pure, and true.
We lean not on our own frail understanding,
But on Your Word for life’s sure guiding.

Lord, we have no wisdom apart from You,
Your wisdom full of holiness and life anew—
A river of light that pierces darkest night,
A fountain of grace, our souls’ pure delight.

In every moment, in every choice we face,
We turn from self and seek Your boundless grace.
No fleeting wisdom this vain world can give,
Only Yours, O Lord, in You alone we live.

Lord, we have no wisdom apart from You,
You are our Wisdom, faithful, strong, and true.
Breathe Your holy life into every soul,
And rule forever as our King and Goal.


Literary Revision:

Wisdom Apart Lord, apart from Thee no wisdom dwells in us—
only the brittle reed of mortal guess,
the cracked cisterns of a self that thirsts
yet drinks its shadow dry.

Thou art our Wisdom, holy, honed as blade
that parts the bone from marrow, night from claim;
a vein of light through granite dark, a seam
where grace seeps slow as resin from the wound.

In every fork where choice ignites like tinder,
we turn—half-blinded still—from the quick flare
of worldly coals that warm the hand but char the soul.
No borrowed spark avails; we seek the Source.

Lord, apart from Thee no wisdom holds—
Thou, faithful forge and flame, unyielding true.
Breathe now Thy quickening ash into these lungs,
and rule us, King, until the seeking ends in You.

Lord, You Are the Source of All Wisdom, Holiness, and Life (Version 2) by Debbie Harris

Lord, apart from Thee no wisdom dwells in us—
only the brittle reed of mortal guess,
the cracked cisterns of a self that thirsts
yet drinks its shadow dry.

Thou art our Wisdom, holy, honed as blade
that parts the bone from marrow, night from claim;
a vein of light through granite dark, a seam
where grace seeps slow as resin from the wound.

In every fork where choice ignites like tinder,
we turn—half-blinded still—from the quick flare
of worldly coals that warm the hand but char the soul.
No borrowed spark avails; we seek the Source.

Lord, apart from Thee no wisdom holds—
Thou, faithful forge and flame, unyielding true.
Breathe now Thy quickening ash into these lungs,
and rule us, King, until the seeking ends in You.

Lord, You Are the Source of All Wisdom, Holiness, and Life Version 1 by Debbie Harris

This is a humble, worshipful prayer-poem declaring that we have no wisdom apart from God. Using a simple and flowing AABB rhyme scheme (rhyming couplets), the poem features a repeating refrain and gentle classical rhythm, inviting every soul to turn from self-reliance and lean fully on God’s holy, life-giving Word.

O Lord, apart from Thee we hold no wisdom;
Thou art our Wisdom, holy, pure, and true.
We lean not on the fragile reed of self,
But on Thy Word, our compass ever sure.

Thou art the Wisdom crowned with light and life,
A river pure that cleaves the deepest night,
A living fountain where the weary soul
Drinks grace undimmed, and finds its true delight.

In every moment, at each turning place,
We turn from shadowed self and fleeting schemes,
Rejecting all the hollow lore of earth
To rest in Thee alone, our life, our dreams.

O Lord, apart from Thee we hold no wisdom;
Thou art our Wisdom, faithful, strong, and true.
Breathe now Thy sacred fire through every soul,
And reign forever as our King and Goal.

The Holy Spirit’s Faithful Guard: What He Has Never Done and Never Will by Debbie Harris

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O Holy Spirit, faithful Guide and Dove,
You never lead the soul where Scripture forbids.
Your gentle touch anoints with truth and love,
And never plants rebellion in our hearts or minds.

You will not call a woman to the role
Of shepherd, ruling over men in church;
Creation’s order stands — from Eden’s dawn —
Christ is the Head, and men reflect His worth.

You never lead a single soul to sin,
To break the vows of marriage or betray;
Your voice brings holiness and self-control,
Convicting us to walk the narrow way.

You do not need our money to release
A single blessing from the Father’s hand;
Grace flows unearned, through faith and not through fees —
No coin can buy what only God commands.

You give no guarantee of health or wealth
To every believer who calls on His name;
Some saints will suffer, carry thorns, or pain,
Yet find their strength and treasure still the same.

You do not force the tongue to speak in noise,
In unknown sounds that only one can know;
True gifts build up the church with ordered voice,
Or lift the heart in quiet prayer alone.

You never speak a word against the Book,
Never twist the Scriptures or contradict;
The Bible is Your lantern, truth Your light —
You guide us ever by what God has writ.

Great Spirit, guard Your church from every lie,
From teachings smooth that tickle itching ears;
Keep humble hearts in holy fear and awe,
And test each spirit till the truth appears.

For You are seal and guarantee and Guide,
Always pointing us to Jesus Christ the Lord —
In Him the Father’s perfect will abides,
Unchanging, pure, according to Your Word.

Blessed Is The Nation Whose God Is The Lord (rhymed version) by Debbie Harris

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An Original Rhymed Epic Poem
(ABAB rhyme scheme, iambic tetrameter)

In realms where earthly kingdoms fall
And fleeting empires turn to dust,
The Sovereign One reigns over all—
Jesus Christ, the faithful, just.

King of kings and Lord of lords,
Whose name is written high above,
He calms the sea with sovereign words
And reigns in everlasting love.

Whose people fix their gaze upon the Son,
Jesus Christ, by heaven adored,
The Chosen One, the Holy One.
In such a land true justice flows,

Like rivers deep and crystal clear;
Mercy touches suffering’s woes,
And truth dispels all doubt and fear.

From dawn of time when stars sang praise
At the Sovereign One’s command,
Jesus Christ in humble ways
Walked dusty roads across the land.

He touched the leper, gave sight to blind,
Called Lazarus forth from death’s cold tomb;
Upon the cross, with love refined,
He bore the nails, endured the gloom.

Blood and water freely flowed
As darkness veiled the noonday sun;
Yet death itself could not hold
The Prince of Life—the victory won.

The stone was rolled, the tomb stood bare,
Nail-scarred hands now intercede;
The Sovereign One ascended there,
Seated where all angels plead.

Its foundations rest upon the Stone,
The Cornerstone once cast aside;
Its leaders seek the throne of grace alone,
Its families walk in love outpoured and wide.

Its youth stand tall like cedars strong,
Its elders rest beneath almighty wings;
Its streets resound with grateful song
Of freedom born where mercy sings.

The Sovereign One extends scarred hands
And gently calls the weary soul:
“Come unto Me, in My command
Find rest that makes the broken whole.”

In answer, chains of sin release,
Freedom blooms in holy light;
The stranger finds a place of peace,
The hungry eat, the naked clothed aright.

When final trumpet shakes the sky
And clouds reveal the King of kings,
With eyes like flame and robe dipped high,
The Sovereign One His glory brings.

The holy city then descends,
Where no more tears or darkness fall;
The river of life forever bends,
And Christ, the Sovereign One, is all.

Let every heart across the land
Give heed to this eternal call:
True greatness lies not in fame or gold,
But humble trust in Christ alone,

That every tribe and tongue may hold
Communion with the Sovereign One.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.

Blessed Is The Nation Whose God Is The Lord (blank verse) by Debbie Harris

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In boundless realms where fleeting empires rise and crumble into dust,
The Sovereign One reigns eternal, high above all thrones and powers.
Jesus Christ, the Living Word who spoke light into the formless void,
King of kings and Lord of lords, whose name is written on the robe and thigh,
Holds the scepter of perfect righteousness and boundless grace.

No mortal crown, no iron fist, no glittering hoard of gold
Can rival this divine authority that calms the storm with a whisper
And causes the dead to stand at the sound of His voice.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord—
Whose people fix their gaze upon the Sovereign One,
Jesus Christ, exalted above every name in heaven and on earth.

In such a land, justice flows like a mighty river clear and deep,
Mercy touches the hem of the garment of the suffering and the outcast,
And truth shines as a beacon brighter than the noonday sun.
The Sovereign One watches over the humble with eyes that see every tear,
Lifts the weary soul from dust, and defends the fatherless and widow,
Writing upon the heart of a people an inheritance of unshakable peace.

From the dawn of creation, when stars sang at the Sovereign One’s command,
Jesus Christ stepped into time, born in a lowly stable yet wrapped in glory.
He walked dusty roads, touched lepers with hands of compassion,
Healed the blind with mud and spit, and called forth Lazarus from the tomb.
Upon a cruel cross, the Sovereign One bore the nails that pierced His hands and feet,
Blood and water flowing as the sun hid its face in darkness.

Yet death could not hold the Prince of Life—the stone was rolled away,
The empty tomb stood silent witness to victory over the grave.
Rising in power on the third morning, the Sovereign One ascended,
Seated now at the right hand of the Father, interceding with nail-scarred hands.
Angels veil their faces; elders cast their crowns before the throne.

Every knee in heaven, on earth, and under the earth shall one day bow,
Every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the Father’s glory.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord—
For in the Sovereign One alone does true flourishing take root.
Its foundations rest not on shifting sands of human schemes,
But on the Rock of Ages, the Cornerstone rejected yet chosen.

Its leaders kneel for wisdom before the throne of grace,
Its families reflect the steadfast love that flowed from Calvary’s hill,
Its streets echo with songs of redemption and awe-filled praise.
No tempest of adversity can uproot what the Sovereign One upholds,
No shadow of darkness can quench the light that streams from the empty tomb,
For blessing descends like morning dew upon the nation that honors Him.

The Sovereign One, Jesus Christ, King of kings and Lord of lords,
Extends hands still bearing the prints of the nails and speaks with gentle authority:
“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
In answer, the nation that chooses this sovereign grace discovers freedom profound—
Freedom from sin’s iron chains, freedom to walk in holy, joyful purpose,
Freedom to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and welcome the stranger as kin.

Here the young grow strong like cedars planted by streams of living water,
The elders find rest beneath wings that shelter like the shadow of the Almighty,
And the whole people become a city set on a hill, reflecting the Sovereign One’s light.

When the final trumpet sounds and the Sovereign One returns in clouds of glory,
With eyes like flame and a robe dipped in blood, riding the white horse of conquest,
The nations shall stand before the throne where books are opened wide.
Yet for the people who have made the Sovereign One their God,
There awaits a new creation: the holy city descending, where no night falls,
No tear is shed, and the river of life flows crystal clear from the throne.

The tree of life bears fruit in every season; the curse is lifted forever.
Tyrants bow low, idols crumble into dust, and Jesus Christ reigns visibly,
King of kings, Lord of lords, making all things new.

Let every heart across every land give heed to this eternal declaration:
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord—
For its God is Jesus Christ, the Sovereign One,
Whose pierced hands redeem, whose justice perfects every wrong,
Whose presence transforms the wilderness into a garden,
And whose reign brings life abundant, now and for all eternity.

In this divine reality, true greatness is not measured by armies or treasuries,
But by humble, joyful allegiance to the One who gave Himself completely
That every nation, tribe, and tongue might taste the greatest blessing—
Communion with the Sovereign One, forever and ever.

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.