Abiding in Christ: Christ-Centered Practices for Cultivating the Fruit of Self-Control by Debbie Harris

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Galatians 5:22-23 (KJV)
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.


Proverbs 25:28 (KJV)
He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.

In the quiet dawn where tempests start,
The soul bows low and seeks His heart.
Not by its strength, but His alone,
It tames the flesh that claims its throne.
When anger rises like a flood,
His gentle word becomes its blood.
“Be slow to wrath,” the Scripture cries—
It breathes His name and watches it die.
The eyes that wander, lured by sight,
Are fixed on Calvary’s holy light.
The cross stands tall where lust was slain;
In His pure gaze, they break the chain.
When appetite demands its feast,
They turn to Bread from heaven’s east.
One taste of Him and lesser bread
Loses its hold upon the head.
In weary hours when sloth would creep,
They rise and pray while others sleep.
His Spirit stirs the willing soul—
Discipline becomes the joyful goal.
When words rush forth like unchecked fire,
They pause and let His peace inspire.
A tongue refined by holy flame
Speaks life instead of bringing shame.
Each battle won is not their own—
The Victor rose and claimed His throne.
Abiding in the Vine, they see:
Self-control is Christ in thee.
So day by day they train the will,
Not clenched in pride, but yielded still.
For in surrender, power flows—
The fruit of Spirit ever grows.
The Lord keeps them steadfast, makes them strong,
To run the race, to finish long.
Till every impulse bends the knee,
And all reflects the One who sets them free.
Amen.

Apart from Christ Alone: Without Me Ye Can Do Nothing by Debbie Harris

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John 15:5 (KJV)
I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.


In twilight halls where mortal echoes die,
We grasp at phantoms, chase the fleeting sigh—
Castles of glass upon the quaking sand,
Thorn-crowns of pride that cut the builder’s hand.
Apart from Jesus, the cistern cracks and dries,
Ambition’s blaze a guttering wick of lies.
Laurels curl brown beneath the withering sun,
And every triumph’s tale is soon undone.
The restless mind, in darkness seeking light,
Charts only mazes, blind to what is right.
The heart, devouring shadows for its bread,
Finds famine clothed in gold, and dreams long dead.
Kingdoms ascend in brass and gilded dust,
Then topple mute into oblivion’s rust.
The strong man’s sinew, scholar’s subtle art—
Both bow at last before the failing heart.
Yet in the Vine no tempest can uproot,
The Cornerstone no age can refute—
“Apart from Me ye can do nothing,” spake the Lord,
And grafted to His life, the barren bough
Bursts into clusters, heavy with living grace,
In secret orchards time cannot erase.
His mercy, crimson-scribed on Calvary’s tree,
Rewrites the ledger of our frailty.
Where weakness kneels and lifts its trembling plea,
His strength resounds in perfect symphony.
Let mortals raise their Babel spires high,
Forge ladders forged of dust against the sky—
All towers tilt, all empires turn to clay,
Save that which bears the Savior’s name alone.
Apart from Christ, we sail uncharted seas,
With tattered sails and no true compass breeze.
But rooted deep in Him, the weakest reed
Becomes a cedar, towering and freed.
In Jesus dwells the dawn that knows no night,
Eternal rivers of unquenchable light.
Come, wanderer, lay down thy weary load,
And rest forever in the Vine’s abode

One Hope for the World: The Transforming Power of Jesus Christ Our Lord by Debbie Harris

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In shadowed valleys where despair holds sway,
There is no other hope for this weary world
Than the transforming new creature, born of grace,
Glorious in light, victorious in the fight,
Triumphant over sin and death’s cold night—
Salvation found in Jesus Christ our Lord!
He breaks the chains that bind the broken soul,
Renews the heart, makes the old man whole.
No creed of man, no earthly throne or gold,
Can match the power of His redeeming blood.
Rise, O creation! Let the redeemed sing bold:
Our only hope is Jesus Christ our Lord!

The Heavens and Earth Sing Forth the Radiant Glory of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ: The Lamb’s Free Gift of Redemption for All by Debbie Harris

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The whole earth is full of the glory of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!
In blazing dawn where crimson banners fly,
The mountains lift their heads in silent praise;
Each sunlit peak a pulpit raised on high,
Proclaiming Christ, the Light of endless days.
Creation sings: “Behold the Lamb once slain—
His blood the free gift, washing every stain!”
The meadows bloom in tapestries of grace,
Where lilies white and roses crimson glow;
Each petal whispers of the Saviour’s face,
Who wore a crown of thorns that we might know
Salvation’s gift, unearned and freely given—
Eternal life for souls by sin once driven.
The restless seas in thunderous anthems roar,
Their waves like mercy rolling to the shore;
Yet in their depths the calm of Christ implores,
“Peace, be still”—the storm-tossed heart restored.
The ocean’s voice declares the wondrous story:
Redemption’s tide, the Lamb’s atoning glory.
Through ancient woods where golden light cascades,
And leaves in ruby fire dance on the breeze,
The forest cathedral in hushed wonder fades
Before the Cross that towers above the trees.
Each branch and bloom, in seasonal rebirth,
Echoes the Resurrection of the earth.
Above, the starlit vault in silence gleams,
A Milky Way of countless diamond fires;
Each constellation writes in cosmic beams
The name of Jesus, hope of all desires.
The heavens shout what mortal tongues confess:
“Salvation’s gift—through Christ, and Christ alone—
Freely received by faith, His righteousness!”
O Lord and Saviour, every stone and star,
Every wave and flower, Thy gospel tells;
Creation bows before the wounded Scar,
The open tomb where death and darkness fell.
The whole earth glows with Thy redeeming light—
Receive, O soul, His Gift of grace tonight!
Amen.

Behold the Potter’s Masterpiece: How Christ Gave Wings to Dust and Turned Weakness into Triumphant Song by Debbie Harris

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I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.
— Philippians 4:13 (KJV)


But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
— 2 Corinthians 4:7 (KJV)


Then he answered and spake unto me, saying, This is the word of the LORD unto Zerubbabel, saying, Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD of hosts.

Zechariah 4:6 (KJV)

In realms of trial where impossible tasks arose,
A humble vessel, clay of mortal dust,
Faced towering seas and mountains clad in impossibilities
That mocked all human strength with iron thrust.
No arm of flesh could break the binding chain,
No mortal wit could chart the victor’s road;
Yet Heaven’s whisper pierced the hush of strain—
“Through Christ, all things!”—and glory’s torrent flowed.
Then surged the Almighty wind, not theirs but Thine,
A blaze of eagle-wings on dawn’s own crest;
The clay was lifted, crowned with fire divine,
And charged the breach in triumph manifest.
Through weary flood and trials that blocked the way,
Through walls of doubt that barred the shining road,
They rose exultant on the Lord’s own grace,
Each victory singing, “Christ has won the day!”
O splendor wrapped in weakness glorified!
The impossible yielded, the vast task bowed in awe,
The mountain danced, the chains of doubt dissolved,
While heaven’s trumpets rang without a flaw.
They stood transfixed upon the vict’ry field,
A fragile jar yet overflowing grace,
And marveled as the skies themselves revealed
The hand of God in every radiant trace.
Behold the Potter’s triumph fully unveiled—
From dust He forged a conqueror bold and bright;
The reed became a trumpet, strong and hailed,
The timid and anxious leaped on holy height!
All glory, honor, power to the Throne!
The vessel nothing wrought, yet all was won;
They only yielded, watched, and stood alone
In holy awe—for Christ the King had done it all, and won!

Celestial Investment by Debbie Harris

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To every child of little means who sows in secret—
cup of water, loaf of bread, and quiet faithfulness—
your labor is not in vain.
This is for you, beloved of the Risen King.

When earthly coffers stand with iron gates
And mortal wealth slips through the beggar’s hand,
When fields lie fallow, sealed by cruel fates,
And hope itself seems buried in the sand—

Fear not, O soul! Lift high thy conquering head!
Let not thy heart in shadowed silence pine,
Nor envy those who heap their fleeting store—
For Christ has triumphed! He is risen from the dead!
Thy righteousness, thy victory divine!

His scarlet robe now clothes thee royally,
His wounded hands have shattered every chain;
What earth denies, His boundless triumph brings,
And crowns thy poverty with endless gain!

Arise and shine! Let every righteous deed
Blaze as thy treasure—cup of water poured,
A loaf for hungry souls in deepest need,
A word that breaks the captive’s iron cord!

These are the coins no thief can ever claim,
The gold no rust nor moth shall e’er defile.
The heavenly ledgers blaze with living flame,
Recording every act with heaven’s joyful smile.

So labor not for dust that time devours—
Sow boldly in His love and reap eternal powers!
For Christ the Victor lives and reigns in thee—
Thy present strength, thy song, thy royalty!

When evening falls and earthly lights grow dim,
When labor seems but scattered seed once sown,
Look up! The risen King who conquered sin
Prepares His banquet at His glorious throne.

There every tear upon the barren ground,
Each hidden kindness offered in the night,
Shall blaze as crowns of glory, jewel-crowned,
In mansions flooded with unquenchable light!

Therefore, rejoice, thou child of little means—
Thy Father rules the measure of thy days!
Let Jesus be thy wealth, thy joy, thy dreams;
Let His triumphant Name be all thy praise!

This fleeting life shall soon be swallowed whole
In everlasting triumph, full and vast.
The Lion and the Lamb upon the throne
Declares thee victor—“Enter joy at last!”

Hallelujah! Christ is risen! Death is slain!
All hail the Lamb who reigns forevermore!
My treasure is in heaven—Christ alone—
My King, my Victory, my All in All!

No Such Thing as Regular: Crowned as Royal Heirs of the Eternal Kingdom by Debbie Harris

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In Heaven’s blazing gaze where no mere mortal hides,
No “regular” soul exists—only the sanctified.
You are redeemed, plunged deep in the Lamb’s own crimson flood,
Washed whiter than fresh snow by His holy, healing blood.

Justified, forgiven, sealed with Pentecostal fire,
Joint-heir with Christ the Lion, risen from death’s dark pyre.
Royal sons and daughters, breathing His immortal breath,
Children of the King of Kings, robed in righteousness.

Your Father rules on sapphire throne wreathed in stars and flame,
His glory burns within you, pulsing out His holy name.
All glorious within—a temple forged of purest gold,
A living crown of splendor that eternity can’t hold.

When hellish darts come screaming through the shadowed midnight air,
Tipped with poison, forged in hate, barbed with black despair—
Rise, O royal heir! Let heaven’s trumpet blast!
Lift high your shield of faith and watch those arrows fall at last.

They shatter into sparks before the Morning Star’s pure light,
For you are blood-bought royalty, arrayed in garments bright.
No common traveler here—no victim of the night—
You are a prince, a princess, crowned in everlasting light.

Regular? Never. Redeemed? Forever!
Crowned with living jewels no darkness can dissever.
Sealed by the Spirit’s flame, you shine with heaven’s might—
Walk tall, O child of the King, robed in glory, robed in light.

You are not ordinary—
You are eternally, gloriously royal.
Go shine, royal one.

While On Your Knees In Prayer, Miracles Happen by Debbie Harris

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While on your knees in prayer,
miracles happen

— not by luck, not by stars,
but because Christ is the Source.

He who spoke worlds into being
now bends near when you bow low.
Every healing, every door flung open,
every chain that suddenly falls
flows straight from the hands
still marked by nails.

The weight you carry loosens
because the One who carried the cross
now carries you.

What seemed impossible
bows its knee at His name
and stays.

Eyes closed, you see the scars
that bought every miracle.

In the hush between heartbeats,
Christ Himself is listening—
and He answers.

Keep kneeling.
This ground is holy.
Miracles are listening,
and their Source
is always Christ.

No Diamond Gleams Like Mercy’s Light: The Treasure Found in Christ Our Lord by Debbie Harris

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For the glory of Christ alone.

In the hush of dawn where shadows flee,
A gift descends, not bought with gold,
Not wrapped in silk or earthly plea,
But whispered soft in hearts grown cold.

Salvation—pure, through Jesus’ name,
The Lamb who bore our every stain,
Who faced the cross, endured the shame,
And rose victorious, breaking chains.

No diamond gleams like mercy’s light,
No treasure hoard can match its worth;
It lifts the lost from endless night,
And births new life from barren earth.

Oh, precious gift! Beyond all measure,
Freely given, humbly received—
In Christ alone we find our treasure,
Redeemed, restored, forever freed.

Bow low, dear soul, and claim this grace,
The greatest wonder time has known;
For heaven’s joy floods every place
Where Jesus Christ is Lord alone.

A Call For Biblical Boldness by Debbie Harris

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We are not summoned to the silent shade,
Nor veil our flame beneath a coward’s bushel.
With holy fire we rise, unashamed,
Proclaiming Christ — the Lamb, the Price, the Crucified.
Bold be our tongues, unbowed and Spirit-led,
Declaring Jesus — Sovereign, King, and Name!
No whispered creed, no soft apology,
But trumpet thunder splitting heaven’s frame.
We will not kneel to open-minded sin,
Where every trail is paved as equal truth.
Narrow the gate, the way austere within —
Christ’s holy path is to see from the mountainous Biblical view.
Be bold! Be brave! Let no foul wind betray
The Rock on which our anchored feet are stayed.
Rejoice, O saints, along the narrow way —
Where joy runs deep and grace becomes our wage.
Eyes fixed above, through tempests we ascend,
On Christ the solid Summit we endure.
Wide is the road that flatters self to its end,
But narrow climbs the path that leads to pure.
Let heaven and earth forevermore confess:
Jesus is Lord — the Name above all names, forever blessed!