America, America: In This Perilous Hour, When We Turn Our Backs on Israel, the God of Abraham Will Turn His Back on Us Forever by Debbie Harris

20 Saturday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

In these trembling days—when mosques rise where steeples once stood, when political winds shift and compromise whispers over the walls of Zion—I felt the Lord stir my heart to write.

This poem is not written in fear, but in holy excitement. The signs are everywhere, and every headline feels like another birth pain pointing to the soon return of our King. I choose joy. I choose trust. I choose to stand unashamedly with Israel, the Apple of God’s Eye, because the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is still on the throne and His covenant has never been revoked.

My prayer is that these words ignite fresh fire in your spirit—to pray, to speak boldly, to lift your head, and to declare with confidence: “Come quickly, Lord Jesus!”

Whether you agree with every line or not, I ask you to read it with an open heart and ask the Holy Spirit what He wants to say to you through it.

May the God who keeps covenant bless you, strengthen you, and fill you with unstoppable hope in this hour.

With love and urgency,

A Watchman on the Wall

Genesis 12:3

“And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed.”

Zechariah 2:8

“For thus saith the LORD of hosts; After the glory hath he sent me unto the nations which spoiled you: for he that toucheth you toucheth the apple of his eye.”

Matthew 24:6-8

“And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows.”

Luke 21:28

“And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh.”

Titus 2:13

“Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ;”

Revelation 22:20

“He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.”

America, America: In This Perilous Hour, When We Turn Our Backs on Israel, the God of Abraham Will Turn His Back on Us Forever

CHORUS

AMERICA! AMERICA! STAND WITH ISRAEL AND RISE!

BLESS THE APPLE OF HIS EYE — LET HEAVEN FILL YOUR SKIES!

ZION’S GOD IS NOT MOCKED — HIS PROMISE STILL ENDURES!

CHOOSE THE COVENANT OF LIFE — AND GLORY WILL BE YOURS!

O America, you shining hope, you eagle-winged and free,

Born in prayer on Plymouth Rock beneath God’s mercy tree!

The God of Abraham still calls across the ancient sand,

His covenant unbroken — eternal, firm, and grand.

You grew in strength and favor while you held the promised hand

Of the nation risen from the ashes on prophetic land.

Your fields ran over with abundance, your lights pierced every sea,

Your liberty rang loud and clear — a beacon for the free!

But turn away — one faithless shift, one cold and calculated turn —

And darkness gathers faster from the east where tyrants burn.

The demonic state of Iran lifts its fist with ancient hate,

Breathing threats of annihilation, plotting Israel’s fate.

Yet Heaven’s Lion watches — eyes of mercy, heart of flame,

He who blessed the faithful nations now calls you by your name.

Stand firm beside His chosen ones against the rising tide,

And watch the God of Abraham push back the evil tide.

Now mosques rise on city streets where steeples once stood tall,

And compromise on Zion’s wall brings sorrow to us all.

The nations rage, the deals are made, the shadows lengthen fast —

Yet every headline whispers loud: the end of age draws near at last!

So I choose the excitement! I lift my hands and sing!

For these are birth pains of the King — the trumpet soon will ring!

All things work for glory in the sovereign will of God,

The mosques and the shaken thrones are steps on holy sod.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus! Split the sky with glory’s light!

The dead in Christ shall rise first — what a glorious sight!

Every tear wiped, every wrong made right, every knee will bow,

As the King of kings descends — oh, come, Lord Jesus, now!

CHORUS

AMERICA! AMERICA! STAND WITH ISRAEL AND RISE!

Pulpits, burn with holy truth! Preachers, lift the sacred word!

Congress, bow on bended knee — let every conscience be stirred!

Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters — lift your prayers on high,

Stand unashamed for Zion’s ground beneath God’s watchful eye!

Pour out your steadfast loyalty, your voice without retreat,

Declare aloud to every power: “This covenant we keep!”

While Iran’s regime and darkness rage and nations drift from light,

America will shine undimmed in covenant-keeping might!

The hour grows late, the choice is clear — the scales of time descend,

One path leads back to greatness, the other to the end.

Cling to Israel’s side with faith, with courage, and with prayer —

And watch the God of Abraham restore your strength and share.

FINAL CHORUS

AMERICA! AMERICA! STAND WITH ISRAEL AND RISE!

BLESS THE APPLE OF HIS EYE — LET HEAVEN FILL YOUR SKIES!

ZION’S GOD IS NOT MOCKED — HIS PROMISE STILL ENDURES!

CHOOSE THE COVENANT OF LIFE — AND GLORY WILL BE YOURS!

AMERICA, AMERICA — THE MOMENT CALLS YOUR NAME!

STAND WITH ISRAEL IN FAITH — AND REKINDLE HEAVEN’S FLAME!

THE GOD OF ABRAHAM STILL REIGNS — HIS WORD IS SURE AND TRUE!

TURN YOUR HEART TO ZION NOW… FOR JESUS COMES FOR YOU!

America, America: The Moment We Turn Our Backs on Israel, God Will Turn His Back on Us by Debbie Harris

20 Saturday Jun 2026

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America, America, the warning thunders loud—

Turn not your back on Israel, or face the wrath of God!

From Genesis twelve the covenant burns eternal flame:

“I bless the blessers, curse the cursers—none escape My Name!”

You sprang from pilgrim altars on a wild and hostile shore,

A city on a hill that nations feared and empires swore.

Through blood of Bunker Hill and beaches red with Normandy,

You guarded Jacob’s remnant, set the captive people free.

But now the jackals circle, Hamas howls October’s gore,

Babies burned, girls shattered on that dark and bloody shore.

While Tehran sharpens daggers and the weak-kneed counsel “peace,”

Will you betray the apple of His eye for oil and false release?

O traitorous hearts in marble halls who barter steel for votes,

Who pause the bombs on Iron Dome and loosen Satan’s throats—

The God who parted oceans, who toppled Pharaoh’s throne,

Will rend this shining nation if we leave His people lone!

No Constitution saves you when the Holy Hand withdraws,

No dollar, drone, or ballot stops the coming righteous cause.

Empires rot from inside when they scorn the ancient vow—

Rome fell, Babylon crumbled—America, you’re falling now!

Arise, you sons of thunder, you daughters forged in fire!

Let stars and stripes entwine the Star of David higher!

No UN chains, no campus screams, no media serpent’s hiss

Shall break the bond that heaven sealed—defend her or perish!

For if we turn our backs today on Zion’s bloodied wall,

Then heaven’s back will turn on us—and judgment soon will fall.

The skies will blacken, fields will fail, the cities choke in fear—

The God of Abraham remembers every traitor’s sneer.

America, America, choose life or choose the grave!

Stand with Israel’s warriors—be strong, be bold, be brave!

The moment that we falter, the moment we betray,

The Lord of Hosts will turn away—and darkness claims the day.

Hold the line! Hold the line! Let the righteous trumpet blast!

Bless the seed of Abraham—America, stand fast!

Or watch your glory crumble like dust beneath His feet—

The choice is yours this hour: **Victory… or defeat.**

From Twisted Verse Taken Out of Context to Holy Roar: Reclaiming Righteous Judgment in a Lukewarm Age by Debbie Harris

19 Friday Jun 2026

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From the Poet

Dear Reader,

I do not write as one who has arrived. I write as a fellow sinner—saved by grace, still stumbling, yet sick to my stomach at what I see.

The beautiful, holy command “Judge not” has been ripped violently from its context and forged into a blunt weapon to silence conviction, muzzle truth, and keep the Church comfortably lukewarm. In this dark hour when evil is paraded as good, when lies are called love and darkness is left to devour souls unchallenged, a spineless, smiling silence has replaced the roar of righteous judgment.

But the Word of God does not bend to our cowardice. It thunders still: hate evil, expose darkness, judge with right judgment, speak truth in love—even when it costs us. Jesus did not come to affirm our destruction; He came to confront it with both nail-scarred hands and a whip of cords.

This poem is my imperfect roar. May it strike a spark in your spirit. May it awaken you to hold the plank in your own eye without ever dropping the sword of mercy from your hand. The hour is late. The stakes are eternal.

Rise with me, Church—flawed, forgiven, and finally unafraid. Let us love people enough to tell them the truth, even when it burns. Because real love does not smile while souls walk toward hell.

With holy fire and trembling knees,

The Poet

On Righteous Judgment & Moral Clarity

• John 7:24 – “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.”

• Ephesians 5:11 – “Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.”

• Ephesians 4:15 – “…speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.”

On Hating Evil While Loving People

• Psalm 97:10 – O you who love the Lord, hate evil!

• Romans 12:9 – Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good.

• Amos 5:15 – Hate evil, and love good…

Jesus’ Example – Compassion and Confrontation

• John 4:1-42 – The woman at the well (gentle truth that transforms).

• Matthew 21:12-13 / John 2:13-17 – Jesus cleanses the temple (flipping tables).

• Matthew 23:13-33 – “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” (strong rebuke of religious hypocrisy).

The Church’s Calling

• Ezekiel 33:7-9 – The watchman must warn or bear the guilt of silence.

• 2 Timothy 4:2-4 – Preach the word… reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.

• Revelation 3:15-16 – I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot… because you are lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth.

In velvet fog the half-verse drifts,

“Who am I to judge?” — the chorus lifts

A shield for sin, a club for truth,

While logs lie heavy on the eye of proof.

They twist the Word till courage dies,

Lukewarm the salt that once burned eyes;

No tables flipped, no vipers named,

Just smiles that watch the broken walk ashamed.

Yet Scripture thunders, double-edged and bright:

Hate evil, cling to good with all your might!

Judge righteous judgment, not by vain display—

Expose the darkness that devours the day.

The Master wept beside the well,

Yet scourged the house where thieves would dwell;

He called the lost with arms spread wide,

Yet called the lie and would not let it hide.

So come, believer, bent but unafraid:

Confess your plank in dust where mercy’s laid.

Then rise—speak life where death parades,

Name wolves as wolves and light the fading shades.

Not soul-condemning, proud, or shrill,

But love that loves enough to still

The honeyed poison, the glittering lie—

A bleeding heart that will not say “You do you” while people die.

Let lukewarm fade, let holy fire return;

Humility that does not quench the flame, but burns

To purify, not to destroy the name—

This is the Church that bears the Savior’s flame.

Who am I to judge? A sinner, yes, redeemed—

Yet summoned by the King to stand between

The living and the grave, the truth and lie.

By grace I walk. By grace I will not shy.

Rise, Church! Flawed, forgiven, bold and wide awake!

The hour is late, the stakes are high—

No more the silent smile, no more the fake.

Take up the sword of mercy, kiss the cross,

And roar the Word that hell itself cannot exhaust!

The world is watching. Heaven waits to see

A Church on fire — unashamed, set free —

Holding both grace and truth in hands made strong,

Proclaiming Christ till every knee bends low.

This is our moment. Rise. The King is here.

Let lukewarm die. Let Zion’s fire appear!

Claws, Crowns, and Crawling Kings: The Ancient Curse of Unchecked Pride by Debbie Harris

18 Thursday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

From the poet —

I offer you this poem not as mere verse, but as an ancient mirror held up to every age — especially our own. The story of Nebuchadnezzar has haunted me for years: a king at the summit of human power who looked upon his works and declared them his alone, only to be driven from men to live as a beast until he learned humility.

In “Claws, Crowns, and Crawling Kings,” I have tried to capture both the terror and the mercy of that fall. Pride is not loud only in ancient palaces; it whispers today from boardrooms, presidential suites, and every heart that mistakes borrowed power for divine right. The grass still grows. The claws wait patiently. The Watcher still cries, “Cut it down.”

My prayer is simple: may these lines serve as warning and invitation. Warning, that unchecked pride turns even the mightiest into beasts. Invitation, that genuine humility can restore a man — or a nation — to light.

Read it slowly. Read it aloud. Then look around at the towers we are building, and ask: Whose name is truly written on these stones?

With solemn hope,

The Poet

In towers of gold where empires kiss the sky,

A king once roared, “Is this not Babylon—mine?”

His hanging gardens dreamed beneath the eye,

His armies bent the rivers, sea, and time.

No god above, no limit to his will,

He feasted on the praise of trembling lips.

He named each stone and conquest with a thrill,

And carved his name where even heaven dips.

But Heaven watched. A dreamer saw a tree

Whose branches scraped the stars, whose roots drank lies.

A voice rang out: “Let pride be cut and flee—

Seven seasons teach what mortal man defies.”

The axe fell swift. The king fell to the ground,

Crawled belly-low through dew and driving rain.

His nails grew claws, his hair a matted crown,

He ate the grass, he howled where once he reigned.

The beasts he ruled became his only kin;

His throne of marble turned to mud and stone.

In madness’ mirror every tyrant’s sin

Is stripped and shown: the heart that swells alone.

O leaders now—in boardrooms, halls of state,

Who tally conquests, bend the laws at will—

Your gleaming towers dream the self-same fate:

A watcher cries, “Cut down what you have built!”

The grass still waits. The claws are patient things.

The crown that weighs too heavy cracks the head.

When men forget the Hand that grants their wings,

They graze with brutes until their spirit’s bled.

Yet mercy lingers when the “I” is slain.

Lift eyes to heaven—humble, unafraid—

And kingdoms rise again beneath the reign

Of One who never shares His throne with pride.

If Deliverance Delays for the People of Esther and Mordecai: The Iranian Serpent Reigns — Defined by Darkness by Debbie Harris

18 Thursday Jun 2026

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These words were written with trembling hands and a heavy heart. In the spirit of Esther and Mordecai, this poem gives voice to a people once more standing beneath gallows raised by those who seek their total destruction. The demonic Muslim-led regime in Iran is a present terror, boasting annihilation while the world often turns away.

Yet I write with unshaken hope: the same Jesus who cast out demons, who broke the power of hell, and who rose victorious over every dark throne still reigns. His authority is greater than any serpent, any regime, any blood-red crescent. Even if deliverance tarries, the Lion of Judah — Jesus the Messiah — will have the final word. The night may devour for a season, but it cannot overcome the One who has already conquered sin, death, and every demonic force.

Pray with the remnant. Fast and cry out. Jesus holds the scroll of history and the keys of hell itself.

With solemn hope anchored in Christ,

The Poet

In shadowed chambers where the gallows loom,

The seed of Esther and Mordecai arise.

Beneath a tyrant’s blood-red crescent moon,

They lift their prayers against demonic skies.

Haman’s heirs in tunnels dark and deep,

With rocket’s shriek and suicide’s embrace,

Have sworn the ancient covenant to break

And blot out Jacob’s name from every place.

Yet sackcloth hearts in hidden rooms still fast,

Mothers, children, elders on their knees;

Their whispered pleas through tear and smoke ascend—

For if deliverance delays, what tragedy?

If freedom tarries, demonic horror reigns:

The serpent’s spawn will feast on blood and bone,

Cities turned to ash, the innocent slain,

A Holocaust renewed beneath their throne.

Mordecai still paces sleepless walls,

Esther dons her royal robes of faith;

“No accident this terror’s bitter hour—

For such a time as this,” the Spirit saith.

The serpent regime coils with poison breath,

Boasting death from Gaza’s pits to Tehran’s throne;

Yet Heaven’s ledger may still turn—or not—

The God of Purim sits upon His own.

O remnant of the Star and Shield, hold fast!

The dice of Haman roll across the land,

We do not know if freedom comes at last,

Or if the night devours us—yet defines us where we stand.

Sing, O Israel, though the night is long,

The scroll of Esther burns within your veins;

Each tefillah a hammer on the strong,

Each Shabbat candle breaks what darkness gains.

The Lion of Judah stirs—yet may stay still,

His roar withheld behind the veil of flame;

What man devised for evil, God alone will will—

Reversal dawns… or else the darkness claims.

From crimson banners torn and gallows built,

The wicked laugh upon the swords they drew;

Devoured or delivered, this trial defines us through and through—

We do not know if freedom comes… yet still we cry, O God, turn the plot… or we die.

**O Jesus, turn the plot—our hope is in Your might!**

Where Sap No Longer Flows Unhindered: The Tragedy of Firstfruits Turned to Withered Leaves Upon the Branch

18 Thursday Jun 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Rapture, Spiritual Warfare

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A Note from the Poet to the Reader

Dear Reader,

These lines emerge not from the cold seat of judgment, but from the shadowed vigil of one who has beheld the slow eclipse of many once-radiant souls—those who tasted the firstfruits of grace only to watch the subtle ivy of self entwine the altar. The warning is universal, whispered as much to my own trembling heart as to any who walk these digital ziggurats: we who have known the sweetness of early repentance and the bracing fire of initial surrender.

Humility alone? Nay. Jesus Christ and His holy ways alone constitute the unshakable ground, the very Root from which every fruit of the Spirit must spring. Humility is no autonomous root but a fragrant cluster upon the Vine—love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance—borne only where the sap of abiding union flows unhindered. Sever that Vine, exalt the branch as self-sufficient, and the fairest fruit withers overnight. Let this ode then serve not as moral hammer, but as a lantern held before the soul’s hidden chambers, that we might cling more fiercely to the only Name that both lifts and keeps, both exalts and humbles, lest the tower we build become our tomb.

With watchful care and trembling intercession,

The Poet

I

Aye, therein lies the sharper blade of woe—

When he who once walked blameless in the light,

Whose early vows like morning incense rose,

Now swells with self, and dims the inner sight.

II

Not brute barbarians, nor the vulgar throng,

But souls once tempered in the furnace pure,

Who knelt in secret, sang the ancient song,

Then rose to thrones and deemed their strength secure.

III

How swift the turn! The heart that burned for truth

Now kindles altars to its own acclaim;

The tongue that preached of mercy, grace, and ruth

Now thunders edicts in its haughty name.

IV

Nebuchadnezzar was no stranger here—

He praised the God of Shadrach, Meshach, free,

Yet in his pomp forgot that holy fear,

And grazed with oxen under heaven’s decree.

V

So too the modern saint turned silicon king,

Who once decried the world’s vain pageantry,

Now builds his Babel, pulls the puppet string,

And calls his metrics “providence” to be.

VI

O tragedy of tragedies profound!

Not that the wicked fall—they always do—

But that the upright, on redemption’s ground,

Should trade their crown for madness in plain view.

VII

The grass awaits them still. The handwriting gleams

On every feed, each quarterly report.

Let him who stands take heed, lest in his dreams

He hears the watcher’s voice: “Thy time is short.”

VIII

No furnace spares the three when pride inflates;

No lion’s den stays shut for long. The fall

Is steeper when the soul was once elate

With light, now darkened by its mirrored wall.

IX

Yet mercy lingers at the narrow door—

As David wept, as Peter turned again.

The dew may wet the brow, the beasts may roar,

But restoration waits for humbled men.

X

Repent, ye towers of code and golden name,

Ere madness claims the crown upon thy head.

The Most High rules; He raises low, brings low the same—

And in due season brings the haughty dead.

So ends the ode, yet not the warning’s call:

Humility alone outlasts the wall.

Surrendered Clay and Redeemed Canvas: Becoming Masterpieces for the Savior’s Glory Alone by Debbie Harris

18 Thursday Jun 2026

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

In the quiet hours when the soul turns from the clamor of self toward the eternal Artist, this poem was born. We are but dust and clay—fragile, flawed, and fleeting—yet in the hands of our Savior, even the broken becomes beautiful. Not for our own praise, nor for the admiration of men, but for His glory alone do we long to be shaped, refined, and displayed.

May these verses serve as a gentle reminder: surrender is not loss, but the beginning of true mastery. Let every line draw your heart to the cross, where the greatest work of redemption was completed, and where our own stories find their purpose.

May we all become masterpieces—not by our striving, but by His grace—for the Savior’s glory alone.

With prayer and hope,

The Poet

• Ephesians 2:10
For we are God’s handiwork [poiēma – His poem, His masterpiece], created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

• Isaiah 64:8
Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.

• Jeremiah 18:6
Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand…” declares the Lord.

• Isaiah 43:7
everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.

• 2 Corinthians 5:17
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

• 2 Corinthians 3:18
And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

• 1 Peter 1:7
These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

In clay of dust, the Master’s hand did mold,

A vessel frail, yet formed with purpose bright;

Through fire and trial, refined as purest gold,

To shine not for the world, but for His light.

We wander lost in self’s dim, shadowed frame,

Chipped marble cracked by pride and vain desire;

Yet He, the Sculptor, calls us by our name,

To yield the chisel—trust His holy fire.

O let us break, surrender every part,

The brushstrokes of His grace upon our soul;

No fleeting fame, no glory of the heart,

But canvas pure for Him who makes us whole.

The Savior’s blood, the varnish of our days,

Transforms the broken into works of art;

Each line and hue a testament of praise,

Reflecting not ourselves, but Heaven’s heart.

May every soul a masterpiece become,

Not for our crowns, nor for the crowd’s acclaim,

But for the Lamb upon the endless throne—

His glory sole, eternal, without name.

So rise, ye fragments, in the Artist’s gaze,

And let the world behold what Love has done:

A gallery of grace, ablaze with rays

That point to Christ, the Father’s only Son.

Amen.

Gem-Encrusted Stepping Stones to the Throne of the Eternal King by Debbie Harris

16 Tuesday Jun 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Triumphant

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Dear Reader,

From the poet’s heart:

This prayer was birthed in quiet reverence and laid as a living offering at the feet of the King of kings. May these words, adorned with royal imagery drawn from the very courts of heaven, serve as gentle, gem-filled stepping stones for your soul — drawing you ever closer to His throne, awakening fresh awe, deeper surrender, and a burning desire to walk in His holy ways.

May we arise as royal heralds arrayed in His splendor, faithful ambassadors of the cross, and bold proclaimers of our Savior’s glorious gift of salvation — freely offered, lavishly poured out, purchased by His precious blood — so that every wandering heart, captive soul, and weary pilgrim might be pointed with joy and urgency toward His resplendent eternal palace and unveiled face.

Scriptural Foundations (NKJV)

Royal Throne & Majesty of the King

• Revelation 4:2-3, 8-11 — Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne set in heaven, and One sat on the throne. And He who sat there was like a jasper and a sardius stone in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne, in appearance like an emerald. … The four living creatures… do not rest day or night, saying: ‘Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty…’ The twenty-four elders fall down before Him who sits on the throne and worship Him who lives forever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying: ‘You are worthy, O Lord, To receive glory and honor and power; For You created all things, And by Your will they exist and were created.

• Hebrews 1:8 — But to the Son He says: ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever; A scepter of righteousness is the scepter of Your kingdom.

• Psalm 89:14 — Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; Mercy and truth go before Your face.

Commandments & Stepping Stones / Paths of Righteousness

• Psalm 119:105 — Your word is a lamp to my feet And a light to my path.

Righteousness, Holiness, Mercy & Justice

• Micah 6:8 — He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?

Heralds, Ambassadors & Proclaimers of Salvation

• 2 Corinthians 5:20 — Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us: we implore you on Christ’s behalf, be reconciled to God.

• Isaiah 52:7 — How beautiful upon the mountains Are the feet of him who brings good news, Who proclaims peace, Who brings glad tidings of good things, Who proclaims salvation, Who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!

Crowns, Blood of the Lamb & Eternal Kingdom

• Revelation 5:9-10 — And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy to take the scroll, And to open its seals; For You were slain, And have redeemed us to God by Your blood Out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, And have made us kings and priests to our God; And we shall reign on the earth.

O Majestic Sovereign, enthroned in unapproachable light,
High above the seraphim and the ceaseless choirs of heaven,

May Your sacred commandments—
Those flawless, golden royal decrees,
Forged in the unquenchable fires of Your eternal wisdom
And sealed with the blood of the Lamb upon the throne—
Become our minute-by-minute,
Gem-encrusted stepping stones of celestial glory:

Sapphires of unyielding righteousness, deep as the sea of glass,
Emeralds of transcendent holiness, verdant as the courts of Eden restored,
Rubies of mercy aflame with the compassion of the pierced King,
Diamonds of justice pure and radiant as the first light of creation’s dawn,

All hewn from the inexhaustible treasure vaults of Your throne room,
Cut by the hand of the Ancient of Days, polished by the breath of the Spirit.

Paved in breathtaking splendor across the tapestry of our fleeting days,
Like a grand processional path of living jewels and burning stones,
Winding through valleys of shadow and mountains of trial,
Beneath the unfurled banners of Your victory,
Woven with threads of grace, embroidered with threads of sovereign love.

So we, Your humble subjects and blood-bought heirs of the Kingdom,
May cast our tarnished crowns before Your nail-scarred feet in awe,
Bow low beneath the scepter of Your boundless mercy and iron rule,
And with voices lifted like a multitude of heralding trumpets and resounding shofars,
May we be heralds, trumpets, and ambassadors
Proclaiming Christ’s free gift of salvation
To every wandering heart, every captive soul, every weary pilgrim,
Pointing them toward Your resplendent eternal palace,
The radiant courts of Your holy presence and unveiled face,
Where night is banished, and glory never fades.

There, in the blazing light of Your unveiled face,
we will walk these living paths of jeweled glory
and lift unceasing songs of praise
through every season, every age,
until the kingdoms of this world
become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ—
who reigns with You, O Father,
in the perfect, eternal communion
of the one Triune God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
world without end. Amen.

The Unquenchable Inner Dawn – Jesus Christ Within, Our Glory and Hope-Filled Holy Redemptive Shine by Debbie Harris

15 Monday Jun 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed

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Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27)

Dear Reader,

If these words have found their way to you, please know they were born from a heart overflowing with wonder. The phrase “Jesus Christ within is our glory and hope filled holy redemptive shine” arrived like a sudden shaft of light, and all I did was stand still long enough for the poem to pour through.

This is not polished verse written for applause. It is a quiet testimony: the same risen Christ who walked dusty roads two thousand years ago now makes His home inside ordinary people like you and me. He is not distant. He is the inner sunrise, the living flame, the hope that refuses to stay buried.

Whenever life feels heavy or the night too long, may these lines remind you to look inward. There, where no eye but faith can see, shines the glory of God in human clay. Carry it gently. Let it leak through your words, your hands, your quiet faithfulness. The world is desperate for this redemptive shine.

Thank you for reading.

May Christ in you grow brighter with every breath.

With grace and wonder,

The Poet

Jesus Christ within

is our glory and hope-filled holy redemptive shine—

a living flame no night can bind,

a sunrise kindled in the marrow of the soul.

He walks the hidden halls of bone and breath,

turns shadowed chambers into cathedrals bright,

makes every heartbeat a cathedral bell

ringing resurrection into the ordinary day.

When sorrow presses like a stone,

He is the crack of light that splits the tomb;

when fear coils cold around the heart,

He is the blaze that melts the chains to gold.

O holy shine, O inner Star of stars,

You dwell where no eye but faith can see—

yet every kindness, every quiet grace,

leaks Your glory through our fragile clay.

We carry You like lanterns in our lungs,

like dawn tucked beneath the ribs,

and wherever weary feet still walk this earth,

the redemptive shine goes forth.

Christ in us—

the hope, the glory, the unending dawn.

Let the whole world feel the warmth.

✨ Amen.