Oh The Unsearchable Riches Of Christ That None Can Trace by Debbie Harris

22 Saturday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed

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Dear Reader,

These lines were written in quiet meditation upon the unsearchable riches of Christ, drawn from the apostle’s words in Ephesians and the sweet, heart-stirring reflections of Charles Spurgeon. May they turn your heart upward, deepen your wonder at the Saviour’s boundless grace, and leave you hungering to know Him more. Read them slowly, and let the Spirit apply their truth. Amen.

May the unsearchable riches of Christ be ever more precious to every heart that reads these lines.

— The Poet

Job 5:9 – Which doeth great things and unsearchable; marvellous things without number.

Job 9:10 – Which doeth great things past finding out; yea, and wonders without number.

Romans 11:33 – Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!

Psalm 145:3 – Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; and his greatness is unsearchable.

Isaiah 40:28 – Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.

Beyond arithmetic’s frail and fading count,

Beyond the measuring rod of reason’s mount,

Beyond imagination’s farthest dream,

Beyond the brightest ray of eloquence’s gleam—

Lie treasures deeper than the seeking mind,

Unsearchable, in Christ alone enshrined.

My Master stands more vast than highest thought,

Though thought to heaven’s utmost summit wrought;

More swift to pardon than the faltering soul

Is swift to stumble toward the darkling goal;

More mighty still to cleanse, to loose, to free

Than sin can bind or shadow over me.

He waits more eager, open-handed, near

Than I am slow to kneel and make appear

My hidden hunger, whispered want, and need.

O never crown Him with a brittle reed

Or silver pale—He claims the living gold

That burns with glories yet untold.

He spreads for me the living emerald green

Where quiet waters run in silver sheen;

His shepherd-pipe pours forth such melodies

As hush the heart like evening’s breathing seas.

No love that earth has known, nor heaven shows,

Can match the fathomless depth His mercy knows.

To know Him, and in Him forever abide—

This is the life the long, long ages hide,

The marrow of the everlasting feast,

The wine well-refined, the sacred vintage pressed.

He gives as kings to kings their gifts impart,

With open hand and large, unstinting heart.

Two heavens His lavish, royal grace prepares:

One here below, where love itself declares

Its quiet joy in serving day by day;

One there above, where every shadow stays

Forever banished in the purest light

Of His unveiled, beloved, glorious sight.

Along the pilgrim road He builds my wall

Of living rock, and answers every call

With bread that never fails, with waters sure;

Yet there—O there—the purified, the pure

Shall hear the triumph’s everlasting song,

The feast of those who waited, true and long.

These riches are the earth’s most sacred tune,

The harpers’ anthem under sun and moon,

The stars that hymn Him through the night and day.

Lord, teach us more of Jesus’ radiant way,

That we, with tongues of fire and living grace,

May tell His boundless wealth from place to place.

The Presence of God Is a Royal Symphony by Debbie Harris

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Celebratory, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Praise, Royally Redeemed, Thanksgiving, The Light Of The World

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Dear Reader,

From the Poet—

These lines were born in quiet hours when the soul, thirsty and still, first heard the distant strains of a music not of this world. I have tried, with imperfect human words, to capture something of that royal symphony—the life-giving presence of God that does not merely visit, but resurrects; that does not merely comfort, but creates anew. May these verses serve as an open door rather than a finished chamber. Step through them gently. Listen not only with the ear, but with the heart. For the true symphony is not confined to ink and rhyme; it plays wherever His presence is welcomed, and it never ceases to give life. If even one note awakens in you a deeper hunger for that living Presence, then these pages have fulfilled their quiet purpose.

With reverence,

The Poet

In courts of light where death itself must flee,
A royal symphony begins to play;
The life-giving presence of the King Most Free
Awakens dust and turns the night to day.

Soft strings of mercy breathe upon the soul,
Like morning mist that kisses barren ground;
Each gentle note restores what time has stole,
And lifeless hearts leap up with living sound.

The brass of power proclaims a quickening word—
Dry bones arise, the withered bloom again;
While flutes of grace, like living waters heard,
Pour endless streams through every desert plain.

Celestial choirs swell in radiant throng,
Their harmonies a river pure and wide;
The presence of the Lord, so vast, so strong,
Floods every vein with life that will abide.

The harp of healing plucks the wounded deep,
Where sorrow’s thorns once choked the tender vine;
Its golden chords make broken spirits leap,
And every scar is bathed in light divine.

The drums of glory roll across the earth,
Awaking forests, seas, and silent stone;
Creation hears the music of new birth
And answers back in voices not its own.

The organ of eternity now speaks—
Vast pipes of wonder thundering above;
It lifts the lowly, strengthens all the weak,
And fills the void with everlasting love.

No measure ends, no final cadence falls;
The symphony of God forever streams.
His life-giving presence through the ages calls,
And every soul that listens lives and dreams.

O come, and lean into this royal song—
Let every breath be tuned to heaven’s fire;
For in His presence life is ever strong,
And death itself becomes a silenced lyre.

To God be the glory, always and only.

Prayers Too Small by Debbie Harris

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Praise, Prayer

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These two poems were born from the same place: the quiet, overwhelming discovery that our God is not only big enough, but willing enough, to meet us in the exact places of our need.

The first poem simply tells what happened—money that appeared where there was none, a stranger’s voice quoting Psalm 23 until a mother’s storm grew still, hospitality and kindness that asked for nothing in return, strength and calm that were never mine to claim. It is a record of miraculous provision, offered as a testimony that the same God still walks hospital corridors and long roads of worry.

The second poem is the breath that followed. After tasting such goodness, a question rose in me that I could not ignore: Perhaps my prayers have been too small. It is less a statement of achievement and more a humble invitation—to myself and to you—to enlarge our asking in the light of a God who has already proven He multiplies the little and fills the empty places.

I offer both poems together, not as polished theology, but as lived wonder. May they remind you that provision is real, that peace can arrive through the most unexpected voices, and that the God who has already given so much is still inviting us to pray larger than our fears.

With gratitude for the journey,

and hope that you, too, will taste the wideness of His hand,

—The Poet

I have tasted the wideness of Your hand:

money lying quiet between the thin leaves of a Book,

hospitality that asked for nothing and gave everything,

kindness so tender it broke open dry eyes,

an angel’s voice speaking Psalm twenty-three

until the storm inside a mother’s heart fell silent.

Strength arrived that was never mine to claim.

Calm settled deeper than breath.

And now the thought rises, soft and sharp:

Perhaps my prayers have been too small.

After provision rose where nothing lived,

after empty pockets and empty rooms were filled,

after peace that passes understanding rested on us—

how can I still ask for crumbs

when the table of heaven has already been set?

You are the God who multiplies the little,

who opens closed doors with a single word,

who walks hospital corridors and long southern roads,

who turns distress into quiet

and lack into more than enough.

So enlarge my asking, Lord.

Let me pray past the edges of my fear,

past the borders of what I can imagine,

past the limits of yesterday’s need.

Your goodness has already proven

that nothing is too hard,

nothing is too late,

nothing is beyond the reach of Your providential love.

Teach me to pray large—

not because I am bold,

but because You are bigger

than every small prayer

I once thought was enough.

To God be the glory—-always and only!

Miraculous Provision by Debbie Harris

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Love Of Family, Praise, Prayer, Triumphant

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Our God is vast beyond the farthest star,

Almighty, tender, near as breath and bone.

In empty hands He places what we need,

And quiet comes that never was our own.

When fear rose high beside a hospital bed,

And mother’s soul trembled like a leaf in storm,

An unexpected angel spoke the ancient words:

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

Psalm twenty-three, remembered by heart,

Poured peace like living water through the room.

Her breathing slowed. The storm inside grew still.

That calm was not hers—it was His alone.

Money appeared where none had been before,

Hidden in the pages of a worn, open Book,

Enough to carry love across the miles

To stand beside her in the hour of need.

Hospitality arrived with open doors,

Kindness from strangers who became true kin,

Gifts no one could repay, yet freely given—

Each one a quiet miracle of grace.

Strength rose when strength had long since fled,

A steadying hand that was not flesh and bone.

The valley of the shadow lost its sting

Because the Shepherd walked the path ahead.

Green pastures opened in the barren place,

Still waters found us when the wells ran dry.

He prepared a table in the presence of fear,

And mercy followed every weary step.

This is no private story bound by time or name.

Wherever need is real and faith looks up,

The same great God still multiplies the loaves,

Still speaks the Psalm that quiets troubled hearts,

Still sends provision wrapped in human hands,

Still gives a peace the world cannot invent.

So let the soul that feels its own smallness rest:

Our God is big. Our God is great. Our God is near.

He leads. He keeps. He restores the fainting soul.

And all the days of our lives, His goodness follows.

To God be the glory——always and only!

In Christ Our All — Exquisite Provision and Victorious Hope by Debbie Harris

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Praise, Royally Redeemed, salvation

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These lines rose like dawn light warming a waiting tongue, born from the radiant declaration of Lamentations 3:24 — that the Lord is our portion. In every season, through every shifting wind and shadowed path, Christ is our everything: the sweet honey that surges through the pulse, the fragrant spice of unshakable hope, the thunderous voice that rolls across the open sky, our exquisite and inexhaustible provision.

May this sonnet pour golden radiance into your lifted eyes, set dancing feet upon paths of living light, and carry the triumphant, majestic joy that such a truth awakens.

With hope that soars,

The Poet

Note on Form

This poem is a Shakespearean sonnet: fourteen lines of iambic pentameter with the classic rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG.

Lamentations 3:24

“The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.”

In radiant dawn that warms the waiting tongue

And fills the air with sweet and living breath,

The soul announces triumph, freely sung:

The Lord alone is everything—true life past death!

It drinks the sweetness mercy pours like dew

And tastes the joy that sweeps away all pain;

It breathes the spice of hope the victors knew

And hears a voice that rolls like thunder’s reign.

Now dancing feet explore the paths of light;

A golden glow floods every lifted eye;

Warm honey surges through each pulsing beat

While winds of promise perfume the open sky.

So soul and sense rise up in pure delight—

In Christ our all—exquisite, triumphant light!

To God be the glory always and only.

The Breaker Is Come Up Before Them: A Hymn of Finished Victory by Debbie Harris

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Triumphant

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Dear Reader,

From the Poet’s Note

I wrote these lines after sitting with C. H. Spurgeon’s meditation on Micah 2:13—“The breaker is come up before them.” His words stirred something deep: the quiet courage that comes when we remember Christ has already walked the road ahead of us, broken every barrier, and left the enemy defeated. This poem is not an attempt to improve upon Spurgeon, only to echo his trumpet call in a different key. May it steady your steps if the way feels dark, and remind you that the hardest fighting has already been done by Another.

With hope,
The Poet

To God be the glory—always and only.

Micah 2:13
The breaker is come up before them: they have broken up, and have passed through the gate, and are gone out by it: and their king shall pass before them, and the LORD on the head of them.

Colossians 2:14-15
Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross; And having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a shew of them openly, triumphing over them in it.1 Corinthians 15:54-57
So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Hebrews 2:14-15
Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil; And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.

Psalm 91:13
Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.

Isaiah 43:2
When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.

Romans 8:37
Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

The Breaker has gone up before,
Through gate and gloom and iron door;
He marched the road we tremble on,
And every foe is overthrown.

Sin’s heavy chain He nailed to wood,
Death’s sting He swallowed in His blood;
Hell’s yawning gulf He barred with might—
No child of His shall taste that night.

The lions roar, but teeth are gone;
The serpents strike, their fangs withdrawn;
The rivers rage, yet bridges stand;
The flames may leap—we walk unscathed,
Clad in the garment He has made.

The sword was forged, the spear was keen,
Yet both lie blunted, cold, unseen;
The war is won before we fight,
The darkness yields before the Light.

So faint-heart, lift your weary head,
The path is cleared, the vict’ry said;
March on, divide the richest spoil—
Your Captain triumphed, end of toil.

Proclaim aloud the Breaker’s name,
Who broke the powers of death and shame;
Sweet name that fits Him, strong and true—
He broke the way, and leads us through.

Lord, Is There Still a Path for America? by Debbie Harris

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

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

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

This poem was written with a heavy heart and a hopeful spirit for the land we still call home. In an age when corruption seems to run deep, and the foundations tremble, these lines are offered as both a cry and a call: that America would turn, repent, and return to the one true God. May these words stir something eternal within you.

With prayer and longing,
The Poet

To God be the glory—always and only.

Psalm 33:12
Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD; and the people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance.2 Chronicles 7:14
If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.

Psalm 11:3
If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?

Proverbs 14:34
Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a reproach to any people.

Jeremiah 18:7-8
At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it; If that nation, against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them.

Hosea 14:1
O Israel, return unto the LORD thy God; for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity.

Psalm 85:6
Wilt thou not revive us again: that thy people may rejoice in thee?

Isaiah 55:7
Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the LORD, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

Corruption sinks its roots through every vein
Of this once-hallowed land we still call home;
Its shadow stretches far across the plain,
While justice falters and the truth is sold for gain.
In midnight’s hush we lift a trembling plea:
“Lord, is there still a path for America?”

Yes—there is.
Repent, America.
Turn from the glittering idols raised on high,
From silver thrones and souls that gold has bought;
Return unto the One, the only God Most High,
Whose mercy waits where prodigal hearts are sought.

The foundations are destroyed—what can the righteous do?
The temple’s pillars lean, the stones begin to crack,
Yet still the Voice that spoke when worlds began
Resounds through tempest, moral night, and lack:
“Come home, My people—there remains a way for all.”
Cast down the pride that sealed the hardened heart;
Confess the wounds where darkness claimed its part.

Repent, America—bow low and true;
Seek first the Kingdom that remakes the whole.
Not by the sword, nor wealth, nor arm of might,
But by the broken spirit washed and made pure light.
The God who once poured blessing from above
Still holds forgiveness, still extends His love.

Rise, then, from ashes, America—arise;
Lift eyes from dust toward the ancient skies.
Return unto the Father who has never left,
Whose covenant endures when all else is bereft.

Though corruption runs deep, His mercy runs deeper still;
Repent—and the way stands open by His will.
He is the everlasting King on high,
Full of mercy, love, and truth that never die;
And if judgment must fall upon the land,
Repent, America—His open arms still extend.

America, America,
May God again shed His grace on thee;
Restore what we have lost through pride,
And set this nation free—
If we will turn, repent, and bow the knee.

Sonnet on Psalm 1 by Debbie Harris

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

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

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Dear Reader,

In a world thick with darkness—where the loudest voices counsel compromise, the crowd rewards the cynic, and the broad road leads only to loss—Psalm 1 still issues its quiet, counter-cultural call. It echoes the same truth spoken by the prophets and fulfilled in Christ: that those who delight in the Lord’s instruction, meditating on it day and night, become like trees planted by streams of living water, bearing fruit in season while the chaff is driven away. This is not a summons to withdraw from the world, but to live as light within it—rooted in the Word, sustained by the One who knows the way of the righteous, and unmoved by the wind that scatters everything else. May these lines draw you back to the only stream that never runs dry.

— The Poet

Psalm 1 (Amplified)

Blessed—happy, fortunate, prosperous, and enviable—is the person who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked [following their advice and example],

nor stand in the path of sinners,

nor sit down to rest in the seat of scoffers and mockers.

But his complete delight and desire are in the law of the Lord,

and on His law (the precepts, the instructions, the teachings of God) he habitually meditates (ponders and studies) by day and by night.

And he shall be like a tree firmly planted [and fed] by streams of water,

which yields its fruit in its season;

its leaf does not wither;

and in whatever he does, he prospers [and comes to maturity].

Not so the wicked [those who live in rebellion against God].

They are like chaff [worthless, dead, without substance] which the wind drives away.

Therefore the wicked will not stand [and be justified] in the judgment,

nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous [those who are upright and in right standing with God].

For the Lord knows and fully approves the way of the righteous,

but the way of the wicked will perish [and come to destruction].

Sonnet

Blessed is the one who will not walk the road

Where wicked counsel leads the heart astray,

Nor stand with sinners in their dark abode,

Nor sit with scoffers in their idle play.

Instead, the law of God becomes delight,

A quiet fire that burns both day and night;

Like trees beside a river, deep and bright,

Whose leaves stay green and fruit arrives in light.

In every season such a life will thrive,

While all it touches prospers and grows strong.

The wicked are not so—mere chaff they live,

Scattered by wind and gone before too long.

The Lord sustains the path the righteous keep;

The way of sinners ends in dust and sleep.

From Shadowed Vales to Radiant Peaks: The Royal Ascent of Those Redeemed by the Lamb by Debbie Harris

17 Monday Aug 2026

Posted by Debbie Harris in Christ-Created Nature, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed, salvation

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These lines were born in the quiet hours when the heart remembers that the Christian life is no flat path, but a living mountain range—valleys fragrant with rain and wildflowers, steep climbs that burn the legs and refine the soul, and summits where the air itself seems to sing of glory.

I have tried to paint what the eyes see and the lungs breathe along the way: the silver mist, the crushed thyme underfoot, the diamond flash of waterfalls, the clean scent of snow and cedar. And above all, I have tried to honor the Triune Companion who never leaves the trail—rescuing, transforming, coaching, cheering, correcting, and disciplining with a love that is both fierce and tender.

May these words find you wherever you are on the ascent. May they remind you that you are already royally redeemed, already crowned, and that every step—whether through shadowed vale or blazing height—is leading you, at last, into His holy presence bright.

With quiet joy and shared hope,

The Poet

Psalm 23:4

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Habakkuk 3:19

“The LORD God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places.”

Hebrews 12:5–6, 11

“My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him: For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. … Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.”

1 Peter 2:9

“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.”

Revelation 1:5–6

“Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, And hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.”

Following Jesus is ascending a vast mountain range,

A kingdom trail of wonder, trial, and grace’s change—

Where emerald valleys unfurl beneath silvered skies,

Rain-kissed meadows glisten like jewels before the eyes.

Behold the soft mist rising from the dew-drenched floor,

Wildflowers cascading in violet, gold, and crimson lore;

Their petals open wide to drink the morning’s light,

While fragrant hyacinth and mountain lily take flight

Upon the breeze—sweet nectar, earth after the rain,

Petrichor rising rich, a perfume that soothes all pain.

Down in those sheltered vales where shadows gently fall,

Beauty hides in mossy stones and ferns that softly call;

The air hangs heavy with the scent of pine and blooming thyme,

A holy hush where tears become the soil for growth sublime.

Here the heart is refined beneath the canopy of green,

As distant peaks gleam white against a sapphire sheen.

Then the upward climbs begin—the rocky, winding way,

Where lungs burn deep and muscles ache beneath the day;

Yet every step reveals new vistas painted bold and bright:

Cascading waterfalls that flash like diamonds in the light,

Alpine meadows blanketed in star-like edelweiss,

Their crisp, clean fragrance mingling with the snow’s pure ice.

At last the mountain tops—oh, exquisite, breath-held views!

Endless ridges rolling blue, kissed by the sun’s soft hues;

Clouds drift below like woolen seas, while eagles wheel and cry,

And heaven’s glory spills in gold across the endless sky.

The wind carries the scent of distant cedar, wild and free,

A heady incense rising toward eternity.

And there—always there—our Triune God abides:

Father’s mighty arm that rescues when the footing slides,

Spirit’s gentle breath that transforms the weary soul,

Son who walks beside, coaching every upward goal.

He cheers with tender joy when courage starts to rise,

Corrects with loving firmness when pride would compromise,

Disciplines as a King who shapes His royal heirs,

Turning every stumble into deeper, richer prayers.

Oh, what a sacred adventure for the royally redeemed!

Crowned in blood-bought mercy, by the Lamb forever claimed.

Through fragrant valleys low and summits piercing high,

Through rain-scented sorrow and vistas that stun the eye,

We follow our Savior, heart and senses filled with praise,

Climbing, redeemed and crowned, into His holy presence bright.

The Risen King’s Mercy by Debbie Harris

17 Monday Aug 2026

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

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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;