O Boundless Mercy, Matchless Worth: A Hymn of Redemption’s Embrace by Debbie Harris

09 Tuesday Dec 2025

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Inspirational, Praise

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bible, Biblical Truth, Christian Poetry, christianity, faith, god, Inspirational, jesus, Royally Redeemed, theology

The poem traces the breathtaking journey of a soul under the gaze of a holy God.It begins with unflinching honesty: Jesus Christ sees everything, every hidden sin, every hypocritical prayer, every tear we refused to cry, and the spiritual death we carried while pretending to live.Yet the moment a person truly repents (when pride finally breaks, when the heart turns back with nothing to offer but its own ruin), everything changes. Mercy pours like an ocean without shores, grace covers completely, and divine love stoops from heaven to embrace the unworthy. The Judge Himself becomes the sacrifice, paying the price on Calvary.No earthly treasure or human achievement can compare to this gift: to be completely known in all our shame, yet completely loved, forgiven, cleansed, and (astonishingly) crowned with heavenly honor.In short, the poem celebrates the heart of the gospel: God’s boundless mercy and matchless grace transform the most broken sinner into a beloved, glorified child welcomed home forever.

Our Savior sees the hidden stain,
The secret sin, the silent shame;
Each thought that shuns the light of day,
Each wandering step that went astray.

He knows the heart that feigned to pray,
The lips that lied, the hands that strayed;
He marks the tears we never shed,
The living death where hope has fled.

Yet when the broken spirit turns,
When pride dissolves and sorrow burns,
When empty hands at last confess
Their ruin and unrighteousness—

Then mercy, like a boundless sea,
Flows from the throne of Calvary;
Then grace, unmeasured and unstinted,
Covers the soul once foul and tainted.

Love bends the heavens, comes down low,
To kiss the brow once bent with woe;
The Judge becomes the Ransom price,
And God Himself is sacrifice.

No gift beneath the stars above,
No treasure born of human love,
Can match this wonder, pure and free—
Redeeming grace on Calvary’s tree.

O boundless mercy, matchless worth!
The greatest gift on sinful earth:
To be fully known, yet fully loved,
Forgiven, cleansed, and crowned in heaven above.

Maranatha by Debbie Harris

09 Tuesday Dec 2025

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christ-centered poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Rapture

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bible, Christian Poetry, christianity, faith, god, Inspirational, jesus, Maranatha, Rapture

The night is wide, yet one star holds its place,
a silver promise nailed against the sky;
the dark is deep, but dawn has touched its face
and left a quiet light for every eye.
The cold is fierce, yet somewhere spring lies curled
within the secret heart of the frost;
a single word still trembles through the world
and will not let one living thing be lost.

Maranatha.
Come, Dayspring, rise with healing in Thy wings,
come, Root of Jesse, bloom where winters cease;
come, Key of David, open hidden things
and set Thy captives into sudden peace.
Come, quiet Breath upon the waters blown,
and make the chaos hear Thee and be still;
come, set the longing heart upon Thy throne
and be the rest that only love can fill.

Maranatha.
The table waits with cup and living bread,
the lamps are trimmed, the bridal door ajar;
each heartbeat is a footstep in Thy tread,
each sigh a guiding signal to Thy star.
Come, take the cup and break the bread anew,
come, speak the mercy-name we barely dare;
come, turn the water into morning dew
and make the wounded world divinely fair.

Maranatha.
We have no crown but expectation’s fire,
no gift but waiting hands held open wide;
yet every breath repeats the heart’s desire
that soon the Bridegroom claim His waiting Bride.
Come, Morning Star, outshine our brightest sun,
come, Rose of Sharon, flood the desert plain;
come, fairest Lord, until our night is done
and beauty walks the streets of earth again.

Maranatha.
Come quickly, Lord, yet come as Thou know’st best;
come, Jesus, come, and make the whole world sing.
Come, lay Thy hand upon the trembling dust
and turn our winter into endless spring.
Come, Lord Jesus. Come, and we shall see Thy face, Thy glory, Thy eternity. Maranatha. Amen. Even so, come.

The Wonder That the Maker Dwells Within the Made When Redeemedby Debbie Harris

09 Tuesday Dec 2025

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Christmas, Inspirational

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Christian Poetry, Christmas, Inpirational

Summary of the Poem
Emmanuel: The Wonder That the Maker Dwells Within the Made When Redeemed

The poem is a sustained hymn of awe at the twin mysteries of the Incarnation and the indwelling Christ.

It begins with the Nativity: heaven stooping to earth, the eternal Word becoming a helpless infant in Mary’s womb and Bethlehem’s manger, hailed by angels yet unrecognized by the world.

It then celebrates the meaning of “Emmanuel” (God with us): the tearing of the veil, the end of our exile, and the astonishing reality that the same God who lay in a manger now chooses to live inside believing hearts.

The central wonder is repeatedly sounded: the Infinite contracts to the size of a human span, the Ever-Strong willingly takes the form of weakness for our salvation, and the Creator of the stars makes His throne inside frail, sinful human beings. No cathedral could contain the glory that now quietly resides in the believer’s breast.

The poem closes with an exultant response: though our voices are small and our hearts once were wilderness, every pulse now confesses its hidden Guest, and the soul is moved to perpetual praise because Emmanuel (God with us, God in us) has made the human heart His chosen, eternal home.

In essence, it is a lyrical meditation on the staggering truth that the One who was born in Bethlehem has been reborn in us, turning dust into temple and sinners into sanctuaries of the living God.

O silent night, when heaven stooped to earth,
A maiden’s womb became the gate of light;
The Word made flesh, of uncontested worth,
Lay cradled low beneath the stars’ pure sight.

No crown of gold upon His infant brow,
Yet seraph hosts in trembling rapture sing;
The Shepherd-King, who left His throne to bow,
Hath come to make our mortal hearts His wing.

Emmanuel! The name like incense burns,
God with us now, no longer far above;
The veil is rent, the exile’s heart returns,
And finds its home within eternal Love

.O marvel past the reach of seraph’s song:
The Infinite contracts to span a span;
The Ever-Strong takes weakness for our wrong,
Yet fills with boundless might the heart of man.

Within this cage of dust and fleeting breath,
The Lord of glory deigns to make His throne;
Beyond the grasp of darkness and of death,
Christ walks the secret chambers of my own.

What cathedral vault, what marble dome
Could hold the splendor that my heart now keeps?
The Maker of the stars hath found a home
Where once my trembling, sinful spirit weeps.

O grace too vast for angel minds to scan!
O love too deep for time or tongue to trace!
The great I AM dwells in the heart of man,
And turns a wilderness to holy place.

Then sing, my soul, though voice be poor and small;
Let every pulse confess its hidden Guest;
Emmanuel! My Lord, my Life, my All,
Hath come, and made my heart His chosen rest.

Glory to God in the highest, with us, within us, forever.