Category Archives: Christ-centered poetry

The Risen King’s Mercy by Debbie Harris

17 Monday Aug 2026

Posted by in Celebratory, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Jesus Christ, King of Kings

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These lines were written not to impress the mind, but to stir the heart toward the risen Christ—the One in whom “mercy and truth are met together” (Psalm 85:10), and through whose blood we have “obtained mercy” (1 Peter 2:10).

All true mercy flows from Him alone. It was purchased at the Cross where He bore our sins in His own body (1 Peter 2:24), sealed by the empty tomb that declared Him “the firstfruits of them that slept” (1 Corinthians 15:20), and forever secured by His throne, where the Lamb once slain now lives and reigns forever (Revelation 5:6, 12).

Like the green olive tree of Psalm 52:8, the believer stands rooted in the house of God only because of this unfailing mercy. May every verse point you beyond the poem to the Victor Himself—the One who “led captivity captive” (Ephesians 4:8) and has given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:57).

If these words cause you to lift your eyes to the Lamb and rest more fully in His finished work, then they have fulfilled their only purpose.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Behold the mercy centered in the Cross,

Where Christ the Victor bled and overcame!

Tender His wounds that heal our every loss,

Yet thunderous the triumph of His name.

Great is this mercy—boundless as the throne

Where Jesus reigns, the Lamb once slain now crowned;

It crushes sin, breaks every iron stone,

And lifts the rebel where His glory’s found.

Undeserved it floods from Calvary’s height—

No merit ours, yet Christ has paid the whole;

The wrath we earned was swallowed in His fight,

And justice satisfied now crowns the soul.

Rich is the mercy flowing from His side:

A fountain opened, crimson, pure, and free;

It turns our ashes into royal pride,

And clothes the beggar in His victory.

Manifold it rises from the empty tomb—

One death, one rising, yet a thousand gains:

Forgiveness, life, adoption, endless bloom,

All clustered in the Conqueror who reigns.

Abounding still—though hell itself assail,

This mercy marches on, unspent, unbowed;

Millions are raised, yet never does it fail,

For Christ has triumphed, and the grave is cowed.

Unfailing stands the risen, reigning King:

In every battle He has gone before;

Temptation flees, and death has lost its sting—

We conquer now, and shall forevermore.

So shout, O soul, the mercy of the Lamb!

The olive tree stands green in endless light;

Through Christ alone we claim the great “I AM,”

And ride with Him in everlasting might.

No Cheap Grace: The Blade of Law, the Balm of the Lamb, and Grace Both Fierce and Kind by Debbie Harris

19 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Dear Reader,

From the heart of a poet who still believes the old truths have never lost their fire, I offer you this plea. In an age of soft words and comfortable sermons, where grace is too often cheapened into mere sentiment, my soul burns to speak plainly. The gospel is not a lullaby for the untroubled conscience, nor a gentle mist upon hardened ground. It is thunder and lightning, wound and healing, death and resurrection all at once.I write not to condemn the preacher, but to stir him — and every soul who listens — to proclaim the whole counsel of God. Let the Law do its piercing work. Let Sinai roar. Let the sinner see the abyss yawning beneath his feet. Only then can the Cross rise in all its terrible beauty, and grace shine forth as the fierce, costly, life-giving wonder it truly is.

May these lines find you unsettled, then comforted; convicted, then set free. May you never again settle for half the gospel when the full glory of Christ is offered.

With urgent affection and trembling hope,

The Poet

The Law Reveals Sin and Convicts the Heart


Romans 3:20
Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight: for by the law is the knowledge of sin.

Romans 7:7
What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid. Nay, I had not known sin, but by the law: for I had not known lust, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet.

Galatians 3:24
Wherefore the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ, that we might be justified by faith.

Humanity is Dead in Sin and Under Wrath


Ephesians 2:1-3
And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins; wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world… and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others.

Romans 1:18
For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness.

Preaching Must Include Judgment and Repentance


Acts 20:26-27
Wherefore I take you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men. For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God.

Luke 13:3 (Jesus)
I tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.

Acts 24:25 (Paul before Felix)
And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled…

The Law Precedes Grace


Galatians 3:22-24
But the scripture hath concluded all under sin, that the promise by faith of Jesus Christ might be given to them that believe… the law was our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ.

John 1:17
For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ.

True Grace is Costly and Seen at the Cross
Romans 6:1-2
What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God forbid.

Titus 2:11-12
For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly…Romans 5:20-21
Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound.

The Full Gospel – Both Wound and Balm


2 Timothy 4:2-4
Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine.

1 Corinthians 1:18, 23-24
For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God… But we preach Christ crucified…

If grace alone is preached with silken tongue,
Like dew upon the unplowed, hardened sod,
How shall the dead in trespasses be wrung
From slumber, knowing not the wrath of God?

No mirror of the Law reveals the stain,
No terror shakes the fortress of the will;
The heart, unconvicted, hugs its chain,
And calls sweet poison what it craves to fill.

Yet Sinai’s thunder must precede the Dove—
The blade must pierce before the balm is poured.
Hell’s yawning gulf must open from above
To make the narrow path a soul’s reward.

For grace is not cheap alms for rebel hands,
Nor license veiled in sentimental lies;
It flames most radiant where a sinner stands
Beneath the cross, with opened, weeping eyes.

Preach sin in all its leprous, crimson hue,
Preach judgment’s fire that never shall abate;
Then lift the Lamb whose blood makes all things new—
And watch the broken rise, regenerate.

A precious soul is never truly won
By half the gospel softly spoken, mild.
It takes the whole: the wound, the spear, the Son—
Both holy terror and the mercy wild.

Thus preach the fullness, preacher, undiminished:
The bad news first, then glory unconfined.
So shall the ransomed sing, their chains relinquished,
And grace be grace indeed—both fierce and kind.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,


Thou who art holy and just, yet rich in mercy, grant us grace to speak Thy whole truth without softening. Awaken the dead in trespasses with the thunder of Thy law. Pierce every unconvicted heart with the blade of conviction, that no soul may hug its chains or call sweet poison what it craves. Then, O Lamb of God, lift high Thy cross before their weeping eyes. Let Thy precious blood cleanse the leprous stain and make grace shine forth—fierce and kind, costly and free. Raise up preachers who will not shun to declare all the counsel of God. Turn half-gospels into dust, and let the full gospel thunder and sing until the ransomed rise regenerate, their chains relinquished, and Thy name glorified.

In the name of the Son whose wound brings healing and whose mercy is wild, we pray.
Amen.

The Watchman’s Lament for the Church in Our Time: When Preachers Trade the Whole Counsel of God for Polished TED-Like Talk by Debbie Harris

19 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Pleasing God Not Man, Prayer, Royally Redeemed, Spiritual Warfare

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Dear Reader,

I write this lament not in anger, but in sorrow and holy concern. In an age when many pulpits have exchanged the pure milk and meat of God’s Word for smooth, self-affirming speeches that tickle the ear, the Church grows lean and weak. May this poem stir the hearts of preachers and hearers alike to return to the old paths — where the Scriptures are opened, explained, and applied with reverence and power. Let us weep for what has been lost, and pray for a restoration of true biblical preaching.

From the Poet

2 Timothy 4:2-4
Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.

2 Timothy 3:16-17
All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.

Acts 20:27
For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God.

Jeremiah 6:14
They have healed also the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace.

When shepherds feed the flock with sugared wind,
And turn the holy desk to stages bright,
Where polished phrases dance, and hearts are pinned
To self’s frail throne, not to the Lamb’s pure light—
Then sermons, once the thunder of God’s voice,
Become but TED-like sparks that briefly gleam,
With tales of triumph, tips for earthly choice,

And you are enough—a false, beguiling dream.

No more the sword of Spirit, whetted keen,
That pierces soul and marrow, sin to slay;
No exposition deep of what hath been
From Genesis to Patmos’ final day.
Instead, the itching ear receives its due:
Smooth words like balm, yet leaving wounds anew.

O Watchmen on the walls! Awake, arise!
Unfurl the Scroll, declare the whole counsel true.
Let not the age’s siren charm your eyes,
Nor crowd’s applause your sacred charge subdue.
For manna light from heaven’s table falls,
Not crumbs of wit or motivational thrall.

Christ’s bride deserves the feast, not empty show;
The cross, the blood, the narrow way made plain.
Repent, ye preachers! Let the Scriptures flow
As rivers living, breaking every chain.
Then shall the flock be fed, the weak made strong,
And glory rise where TED-like echoes die—
In pulpits purged, where God alone is sung,
Till heaven’s Well done resounds from on high.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,


We thank Thee for Thy holy Word, which is a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path. Forgive us, O Lord, for the many pulpits where Thy truth has been exchanged for the wisdom of men. Raise up faithful preachers who will declare all the counsel of God without fear or compromise. Restore to Thy Church the power and purity of expository preaching. Stir the hearts of Thy people to hunger once more for the sincere milk and strong meat of Scripture. May our pastors feed Thy flock with the Bread of Life, and may Christ be exalted in every sermon.

In the mighty name of Jesus Christ our Lord,


Amen.

The Two-Edged Word: Refusing the Counterfeit Gospel in the Laodicean Hour by Debbie Harris

19 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Luke warm, Royally Redeemed, Spiritual Warfare, The curse of being luke warm

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Poet’s Note

I wrote The Unbowed Counsel in the shadow of the prophets and apostles, conscious that the Church stands at a perilous hour much like Laodicea—lukewarm, rich in self-deception, yet wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked (Revelation 3:14–22). The poem is no mere literary exercise; it is a lamentation and a trumpet blast drawn from the whole counsel of God (Acts 20:27).

At its core burns the tension that modern sensibilities most dislike: the coincidentia oppositorum of divine attributes—the terrifying holiness of the Judge and the astonishing tenderness of the Saviour in one Triune God. “Our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29; Deuteronomy 4:24) is not metaphor but reality; yet the same fire kindled the bush that was not consumed (Exodus 3) and was poured out upon the Son so that mercy might triumph over judgment (James 2:13). To excise either pole is to preach another gospel (Galatians 1:6–9).

The “anodynes of ease” are the opiates of therapeutic religion—smooth words that soothe the conscience without slaying the old man (Romans 6:6). They echo the false prophets who cried “Peace, peace” when there was no peace (Jeremiah 6:14; Ezekiel 13), offering a crossless grace that costs nothing and therefore redeems nothing. True grace, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer once warned, is costly because it cost God the blood of His Son. It demands repentance (metanoia—a total turning), mortification of sin, and conformity to the crucified and risen Christ.

The structure moves deliberately from diagnosis (the counterfeit gospel) through confrontation (the unbowed Word) to doxology (the mystery of wrath and mercy meeting at the cross). Every image is soaked in Scripture: the two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12), the winepress (Isaiah 63:3; Revelation 19:15), the midnight cry (Matthew 25:6), the fan in the Judge’s hand (Matthew 3:12), the garments dipped in blood (Revelation 19:13), and the final trumpet that shall raise the dead and bow every knee (1 Corinthians 15:52; Philippians 2:10–11).I have chosen elevated, archaic-tinged diction not for ornament but for gravity—to echo the King James cadence that shaped the English-speaking Church for centuries. The poem refuses the therapeutic and the sentimental because the Bible refuses them. It insists that the same Lion who will roar in judgment is the Lamb who was slain. Only those who tremble at His Word (Isaiah 66:2) will find refuge beneath His wings.

If the lines wound, let them wound unto healing.


If they offend, let the offense be the offense of the cross (Galatians 5:11).


For in the end, there is no other Name, no other Gospel, and no other way to stand in that Day than clothed in the righteousness of Another.

Soli Deo gloria.
— The Poet

The Two-Edged Word & Power of Scripture

Hebrews 4:12
For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.

Revelation 1:16
And he had in his right hand seven stars: and out of his mouth went a sharp twoedged sword: and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength.

Ephesians 6:17
And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Lukewarm / Laodicean Church & Counterfeit Gospel

Revelation 3:15-17
I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth. Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked.

2 Timothy 4:3-4
For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.

Jeremiah 6:14
They have healed also the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace.

Holiness, Judgment & the Fear of God

Hebrews 12:29
For our God is a consuming fire.

Hebrews 10:31
It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

Malachi 3:2
But who may abide the day of his coming? and who shall stand when he appeareth? for he is like a refiner’s fire, and like fullers’ soap.

Call to Repentance & Awakening

Acts 17:30-31
And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men every where to repent: Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead.

Revelation 3:19
As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent.

Ephesians 5:14
Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.

Full Counsel of God

Acts 20:27
For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God.Wrath & Mercy at the CrossRomans 3:25-26
Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God; To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness: that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.

Romans 11:22
Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in his goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off.

Psalm 85:10
Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.

O Age of silken sermons, honeyed lies,
Where pulpits peddle anodynes of ease—
A Christ recast in pastel sympathies,
Who never thunders, never wounds to heal.
Thy gospel is a mirror, bright and bland,
Reflecting back the self in flattering light;
No Sinai-smoke, no blood upon the lintel,
No narrow gate, no terror of the Night.

Yet stands the Word, undimmed, a two-edged blade,
That pierces joints and marrow, soul and spirit.
The Holy One whose eyes are flames of fire
Beholds the heart’s deep treachery unbidden.
“Be holy, for I AM,” the thunder cries
From burning bush through prophets’ scalding lips,
From Calvary’s cry to Patmos’ rolling skies—
The Judge who weighs the nations in His fist.

Where is the preaching that makes sinners quake?
The hammer on the rock of stony pride?
The arrow sharp that finds the conscience’ wake
And drives the soul, undone, to Christ’s pierced side?
Instead they chant of “journeys,” “best life now,”
Of love that never grieves, of wrath long dead.
A cross without its scandal, without its vow:
“Take up and follow”—or be spewed instead.

Awake, thou slumbering watchman on the wall!
The Bridegroom comes at midnight unawares.
His fan is in His hand; the chaff shall fall;
His winepress trod alone, His garments fair
With blood of grapes and blood of rebel kings.
No plea of culture, context, or of “grace”
Shall stay the sentence when the trumpet rings
And every hidden thing finds its true place.

Yet in that blaze of unrelenting light
Shines mercy’s mystery, deeper than the sea:
The Lamb once slain stands risen, robed in white,
Whose wounds cry louder than Golgotha’s plea.
He bore the cup thou couldst not taste and live;
He drank the dregs of wrath reserved for thee.
Repent—O ragged, ruined, ransomed slave—
And rise, clothed in His righteousness, set free.

This is the Gospel whole, unmaimed, untamed:
Both Judge most terrible and Saviour mild.
It slays the old man, burns away the stained,
Then quickens dust to glory undefiled.
Let modern prophets tremble, scribes grow pale;
Let soft assemblies hear the ancient roar.
The Lion of Judah breaks the seven seals—
Prepare thy soul. The Judge stands at the door.

He comes. He comes.
And every knee shall bow.

Closing Prayer

O Holy and Terrible God, consuming Fire and Wounded Lamb, we come trembling yet bold through the blood of the Lamb. Forgive us for peddling anodynes of ease while Thy two-edged Word lies sheathed. We have grown lukewarm and called it grace. Awaken us, pierce our hearts, and grant us godly sorrow that leads to repentance. Raise up faithful voices who will declare the whole counsel of God without shame. Clothe us in the righteousness of Christ alone. Let the Lion of Judah roar again through Thy Church, that when Thou appearest we may lift up our heads in joy and not be ashamed. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and first come search us, refine us, and possess us wholly. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost we pray. Amen.

O Earth Defiled – The Reprobate Age: Where Souls Forsake God and Delight in Their Own Damnation by Debbie Harris

19 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Spiritual Warfare

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

I have not written these lines to amuse, nor to provoke idle debate. I have written them because the Spirit of the age grows thick with the very abominations Paul set forth in the first chapter of Romans, and the time for polite silence has passed.

We live in the open fulfillment of that dread indictment: a world that has deliberately cast God from its knowledge, and in return has been given over to a reprobate mind. What was once hidden in the shadows now parades in daylight, clothed in the garments of pride and celebrated with thunderous applause. Vice is no longer ashamed — it demands affirmation. Truth is no longer silenced — it is hunted.

This poem is a lamentation and a warning. It does not rejoice in the darkness, but it will not lie about it. If the words burn, it is because the reality they describe is already burning.

May the same God who gave men over to reprobation also grant them grace to repent, before the cup of wrath overflows and the final accounting begins.

In solemn witness,
The Poet

O Earth, defiled! O blind and reeling sphere,
Where once the Eternal stamped His image clear,
Now men have flung the knowledge of their God
Like refuse to the dogs, and in its stead
Have crowned the Abyss. Therefore the Almighty Hand
Hath loosed the reins: He gives them o’er, He gives!
To reprobate minds, to furnaces of night,
Where every spark of rectitude is quenched.

Behold the plague! Unrighteousness runs black
As pitch through every vein of mortal kind.
Fornication struts naked in the streets,
Crowned queen, and calls her filthiness delight.
Wickedness laughs from thrones of stolen gold;
Covetousness gnaws the bones of nations whole;
Malice, with serpent tongue, whispers and smiles;
Envy, green-eyed, devours her own brood.

Murder walks masked in robes of policy,
Debate is endless war with words for blades,
Deceit hath built her temples out of lies,
And malignity suckles at the breast
Of every infant soul. Whisperers swarm
Like flies on carrion; backbiters flay alive
The reputations of the upright few.
Haters of God lift high their brazen horns,
Proud boasters thunder, “We are gods ourselves!”
Inventors of all evil, ever new,
Disobedient spawn who trample hoary heads,
Without a drop of natural affection left—
Implacable as stone, unmerciful as

Hell.No understanding dwells within their skulls,
No covenant holds, no mercy tempers wrath.
They know—yes, they know—the judgment of the Lord,
That death is wages earned by such as these,
Yet not content with ruin of their own,
They clap, they cheer, they crown the very worst,
They celebrate the monster and the whore,
They feast upon the corpse of dying truth
And call the banquet progress, liberty, light.

This is our hour. Reprobate minds abound,
They rule the councils, they infest the schools,
They poison every fountain of the young,
They strut upon the stages, leer from screens,
They legislate abominations bold
And punish those who name them what they are.
The whole world groans beneath the iron yoke
Of minds delivered up to vomit filth
And call it freedom, minds that love the dark
More dearly than the soul that made the stars.

O dreadful spectacle! O terminal age!
Where good is crucified afresh each dawn,
Where evil wears the purple and the crown,
Where conscience is a relic, mercy weak,
And man, once little lower than the gods,
Crawls lower than the beasts that perish not.

Yet tremble, tyrants of the reprobate heart—
The Judge hath marked the measure of your days.
The cup of wrath is filling, drop by drop,
With every boast, with every shameless rite.
Repent or perish. Turn ye, turn ye now,
Before the heavens crack, before the fire
Consumes the stubble of your vaunted pride,
And leaves behind but ashes and His Name.

This age is Romans One made visible—
The wrath of God revealed from heaven plain
Against all who hold truth in unrighteousness.
Reprobate minds are everywhere.
And hell applauds.

A Servant’s Prayer by Debbie Harris

12 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

From the Poet

Dear Reader,

Have you ever wanted to be great for God?


Not the world’s loud, glittering kind of great — but the kind that lasts forever? The kind that echoes in heaven? This prayer-poem was born from that very longing. It is a quiet cry of the heart: Lord, make me a servant… then I will be great for Thee.

May it stir the same desire in you.

Lord, break my pride with gentle hands,
Strip every crown I’ve tried to claim;
Teach me to kneel where no one stands,
And serve unseen, without a name.

Let me wash feet with quiet grace,
Carry the cross that others flee;
In lowly dust find heaven’s place —
For only here am I truly free.

No trumpet sound, no golden throne,
No seeking praise from mortal breath;
Just open hands, a heart of stone
Now softened by Your perfect love.

Then, in Your eyes, let greatness rise —
Not as the world would crown its kings,
But as a servant’s low disguise
That wears the glory heaven sings.

So mold me, Lord, till I resemble
The One who stooped to serve and save;
A living light, humble and simple —
In serving You, my soul is brave.

Make me a servant, pure and true,
Then I shall be great… for Thee.


Amen.

The Demonic Creed: Islam’s War on Nigeria’s Christians by Debbie Harris

09 Thursday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Spiritual Warfare, The Absolute Evil Of Islam

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

Poet’s Note

Dear Reader,

I wrote this lament with a heavy heart. Nigeria’s Christian communities are being systematically slaughtered — villages burned, churches destroyed, families wiped out — in the name of Islam. This is not random violence or mere tribal clashes. It is the direct fruit of a demonic ideology that teaches total domination, conversion by the sword, and death for those who refuse.

I call Islam what it is: an evil creed of conquest and submission. For too long, the world has hidden behind soft words and political correctness while innocent blood flows. The martyrs cry out from the ground. Their suffering demands truth, not comfort.

If this poem offends the guilty, so be it. If it wakes the sleeping, it has done its job.

May their blood not be forgotten, and may justice come swiftly.

—The Poet

Ye that love the LORD, hate evil. (Psalm 97:10)

The fear of the LORD is to hate evil. (Proverbs 8:13)

Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good. (Romans 12:9)

Hate the evil, and love the good. (Amos 5:15)

On the suffering of Christians:

Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you. (John 15:20)

Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution. (2 Timothy 3:12)

On the blood of martyrs:

And they cried with a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth? (Revelation 6:10)

On false teachings and killing in God’s name:

Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils. (1 Timothy 4:1)

They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service. (John 16:2)

On spiritual battle:

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. (Ephesians 6:12)

On calling evil what it is:

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil. (Isaiah 5:20)

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

In the blood-soaked fields of Nigeria’s weeping plains,

Where faithful bones lie shattered beneath the scornful sun,

The ancient Cross is trampled by the crescent’s cruel chains,

And Islam’s demonic creed devours daughter, father, son.

From Boko Haram’s blades to Fulani herdsmen’s fire,

The ummah’s holy mandate rings with unrelenting hate—

“Convert or die,” the doctrine whispers, fueled by dark desire,

A supremacist plague that brooks no equal, spares no fate.

This evil ideology, forged in desert conquest’s flame,

Demands total submission, mercy’s name forever banned;

It sanctifies the slaughter, exalts the infidel’s shame,

And turns the Koran’s verses into ropes for Christian hands.

Churches blaze like beacons in the terror-haunted night,

Schoolgirls kidnapped, brides defiled in Allah’s twisted name,

Whole villages erased beneath the jihad’s savage might,

While Western silence cloaks the truth in diplomatic shame.

Oh, demonic creed of bondage, sword and taqiyya’s lie,

You cloak your lust for dominance in robes of pious deceit;

You breed the suicide bomber, train the child to glorify

The rivers running red with those who dare to not retreat.

No peace resides within you—only dhimmi chains and fear,

A totalitarian hunger that history cannot deny;

From Nigeria’s bleeding heart to every frontier near,

Your fruit is death unending, your harvest graves piled high.

Yet still the martyrs sing beneath the blade’s descending arc,

Their voices rising heavenward through smoke and ash and pain:

“How long, O Lord, till justice breaks this ideology’s dark?”

Till Islam’s evil empire meets its long-prophesied shame.

Weep, world, for Nigeria’s slaughtered saints in endless row,

Whose only crime was loving Christ while Islam bared its fang.

The lament thunders louder—let every conscience know:

This is no random violence; this is the faith’s own song.

Awake, arise, and call the demon by its ancient name,

Lest the crescent’s shadow lengthen and the Cross be overthrown.

For evil unresisted spreads its consecrated flame,

And Nigeria’s Christian blood cries out from hallowed stone.

America, Repent and Return to the Living God Lest We Be Destroyed: Blessed Is The Nation Whose God Is The Lord by Debbie Harris

05 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Communism Is Treason, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dear Reader,

In this solemn and decisive hour, as the twilight deepens over a once-shining republic, I write not merely with pen and ink, but with the burden of a Christ-centered poet who has seen the gathering storm. America, the land once consecrated to the Living God — a beacon of liberty, a refuge for the oppressed, and a city set upon a hill — now stands precariously upon the edge of moral and spiritual collapse. She dallies with seductive idols of the age, flirts shamelessly with philosophies that have toppled empires, and opens her sacred gates to ideologies hostile to the very foundations upon which she was built. From the subtle poison of socialism and the iron fist of communism, to the ancient hatred of anti-Semitism rising once more like a specter from the grave; from the gross immorality that mirrors the days of Sodom and Gomorrah — where every perversion is paraded as virtue and the blood of the innocent cries out from the ground — to the insidious advance of foreign laws and divided loyalties, our nation reels under the weight of its own rebellion. Yet even now, mercy pleads. The God who divided the nations at Babel, who fixed their borders and appointed their times, who raised this land as a testimony to His providence, has not utterly forsaken her. He calls through the noise of chaos and the lies of deceivers. He calls His Church to awaken, to speak, to vote, to stand. He calls a prodigal nation to repentance before the hand of judgment falls. For blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord — but woe to the people who forget Him.

The hour is late. The choice is clear. The consequences are eternal.

From the Poet

A daughter of the King and watchwoman on the wall, crying in the wilderness of a dying age — one who loves this nation enough to speak the truth while mercy still lingers.

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord,
Yet America wanders, enticed by a strange reward.
She flirts with foreign altars and chases lies untamed,
Embracing socialism and communism in passion inflamed.

Christians, arise! Let your voices thunder and bold,
Stand firm on the Rock where the ages of old.
Vote with conviction, speak without fear or retreat—
The salt of this nation must season the coming heat.

Anti-Semitism slithers like venom through street and through hall,
Hatred for Jacob’s children, defying the God over all.
Where is your voice, O America, once a beacon so bright?
Will you silence the righteous or stand for what’s holy and right?

Muslim leaders swear oaths on the blasphemous Quran,
While the Bible that founded us is pushed to the side of the plan.
No Sharia shall bind us, no dual law split this land in two—
One nation under God, indivisible, loyal and true.

Immorality rages like Sodom and Gomorrah reborn,
Perversion paraded while innocence bleeds and is torn.
The blood of the unborn cries out from the ground we defile—
Judgment draws nearer with every profane smile.

Awake, O America, before the storm clouds collide!
Return to the Living God—forsake the deceivers’ false pride.
Turn from the darkness of man-made utopian schemes,
From chains of oppression and corrupted, godless dreams.

He who scattered the nations and fixed their borders by hand,
Still calls us to order and blesses the obedient land.
Repent of your idols, your hatred, your lust, and your lies,
And the God of all mercy will hear from the heavens your cries.

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord alone—
America, come home, before your bright light is gone.
Restore the foundation your fathers once laid in His fear,
And future generations will rise up and call you blessed and dear.

Lord, have mercy upon us, our hope and our only defense—
Draw this prodigal nation back home to Your holy presence.
For only in You is true freedom, true peace, and true life—
America, repent… and be saved from the coming strife.


Transformed from Glory to Glory: The Sanctifying Power of the Holy Word Through the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit by Debbie Harris

05 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Royally Redeemed

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Dear Reader,

These words flow from a heart that has tasted the living power of God’s Word. In a world loud with many voices, may you find here a quiet invitation to draw near to the Triune God through the sacred Scriptures. True and lasting sanctification is not found in our own efforts, nor in fleeting religious activity. There can be no deep, abiding transformation where His precious people remain distant from the life-giving holy Word. Only as we dwell in it—day after day, heart and mind immersed—does the Spirit do His sanctifying work, changing us from glory to glory into the likeness of Christ. May this poem stir in you a fresh hunger for the Word, and may you experience the joy of being daily renewed by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

With prayer and affection,
The Poet

Scriptural Foundation (KJV)

2 Corinthians 3:18
But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.

John 17:17
Sanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth.

Ephesians 5:26
That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word.

John 15:7
If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you.

Hebrews 4:12
For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.

2 Timothy 3:16-17
All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.

1 Peter 1:23
Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.

Psalm 119:105
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

Jeremiah 23:29
Is not my word like as a fire? saith the LORD; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces?

John 1:1, 14
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us…

In the hush of sacred pages, where the Triune God draws near,
The holy Word, alive and piercing, whispers truth so clear.
It is not by human striving, nor by fleeting works of dust,
But by this precious treasure that our hearts are formed and thrust.

You in the Word—O let us dwell, immersed in every line,
Where mercy flows like rivers deep and grace and truth entwine.
The Father speaks, the Son redeems, the Spirit breathes anew,
Sanctification’s gentle fire refines us through and through.

From glory unto glory, we are changed by heaven’s light,
No veil remains to dim the sight of pure and holy sight.
The Word transforms our brokenness, our fears and doubts release,
And molds us into Christ’s own form, reflecting heaven’s peace.

May we all abide within it, rooted, grounded, strong and whole,
Let every soul be washed and filled, made new from deep within the soul.
For power lives not in our hands, but in this living sword—
The Triune God’s own holy Word, forever our reward.

So come, be still, and let it work its wonder day by day,
Till we arise, transformed and bright, in everlasting ray.

In the Ruins of Entertainment Christianity, the Remnant Rises for the Real Fire of God by Debbie Harris

04 Saturday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Spiritual Warfare

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Poet’s Note: Dear Reader,

This poem was not written for applause or entertainment. It was born in the quiet ache of a heart tired of bright lights and shallow altars. I have watched too many beautiful services end with empty hearts, and too many gifted voices leave the altar unchanged. The Holy Spirit is stirring something deeper in this hour — a holy dissatisfaction with entertainment Christianity and a burning hunger for the real thing: biblical Christianity, marked by the weight of God’s presence, costly obedience, and fire that does not fade when the music stops. If these words stir you, do not merely admire them. Let them search you. The remnant is not a club for the “super spiritual.” It is a company of ordinary believers who have simply decided they can no longer live on sparks when they were created for the consuming fire. The question is no longer “Will God move?”
The question is now, “Will you rise?”

With trembling hands and a burning heart,
The Poet

In silence where the fireworks die,
a remnant rises, clear of eye.
No longer swayed by flashing gold,
by crowds that cheer, then leave hearts cold.

They’ve seen the sparks that blind and fade,
the empty altars where prayers are laid.
No more the smoke, the lights, the show—
We want biblical Christianity, not popular Christianity.

Not hype that swells and quickly dies,
but hunger that will sacrifice.
Not polished stages, bright and loud,
but altars built where knees are bowed.

From fleeting visits, swift and thin,
to habitation deep within—
we trade the thrill for consecration,
the crowd’s applause for God’s own habitation.

“O God, my God,” the psalmist cried,
with thirst no earthly stream supplied.
Not Sunday touch or passing flame—
but You, Lord, dwelling in our veins.

No more consumers chasing signs,
but disciples forged in holy fire.
They wait, they weep, they tarry long,
till heaven falls where they belong.

Let music cease and curtains close—
the remnant lingers, no one goes.
One Name alone will they recall:
Jesus—before, behind, through all.

This is the hour, the line is drawn.
The fire of God or fading dawn.
We want the Book, not hollow brand,
the narrow road, the blood-stained hand.

Church, arise from comfort’s grave!
The holy fire is here to claim. The remnant rises.

Choose this day whom you will serve.