Category Archives: Exalting Jesus Christ

Sonnet on Psalm 1 by Debbie Harris

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

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 in Christ-Created Nature, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed, salvation

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

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 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.

Bearing the Weight He Bore: An Ephesians 4:2 Sonnet of Christlike Humility and Enduring Love by Debbie Harris

17 Monday Aug 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

I wrote these lines not as one who has mastered humility, but as one still learning to wear it—soft as rain, steady as the arms that once stretched wide for us.

Ephesians 4:2 is a simple verse, yet it asks everything: to be completely humble and gentle, patient, bearing with one another in love. In a loud and hurried age, that call can feel almost impossible. So I turned to the One who lived it perfectly—the Christ who chose dust and thorns, who held our weight without shattering.

He never sacrificed truth for the sake of unity. He held the perfect balance of truth, grace, mercy, patience, and love. He did not shrink from conflict when truth required it, yet even in confrontation His heart remained gentle and His aim was always restoration. That is the way He still invites us to walk.

May these words not merely describe that way, but somehow help us take the next quiet step along it.

With hope,

The Poet

Ephesians 4:2 (KJV)

“With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love;”

John 1:14 (KJV)

“And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.”

Ephesians 4:15 (KJV)

“But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ.”

Wear humility soft as the rain He chose

to kiss the dust His own feet walked as man;

move gentle as the hands that healed, yet rose

to speak clear truth when only mercy can.

Be patient as the One who wore the thorn

and never bartered truth for fragile peace;

hold one another in the love once borne

upon the cross—arms open, fierce with grace.

Let no false unity unknit what’s shared

by Him who balanced mercy, truth, and blood;

in this loud age, still walk the way prepared

by Christ, who met the conflict for our good.

Live as He lived: humble and gentle, true—

bearing in love both weight and truth He knew.

Ceaseless, Majestic Hope by Debbie Harris

16 Sunday Aug 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

A note to the reader from the poet

Dear friend,

I have sat with this truth for a long time now, turning it over in my hands like a smooth stone: the hope we have in Jesus Christ is inexhaustible. It does not dwindle with the years. It does not thin when the night grows long. It simply keeps giving. Look at Him. On His robe and on His thigh He has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS. The powers of this world will gather and rage. They will wage war against the Lamb. But the Lamb will triumph over them because He is Lord of lords and King of kings—and with Him will be His called, chosen and faithful followers. That includes you. That includes me. In His own time — not ours —God will bring about the day when the blessed and only Ruler appears: God Himself, the King of kings and Lord of lords. So I keep returning to this praise, as if I have just discovered it for the first time: Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. This is not a fragile wish. We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It has already entered the inner sanctuary behind the curtain where nothing can touch it, nothing can steal it, nothing can wear it out. And still the mystery deepens: To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. Christ in you. Not beside you. Not merely for you. In you —the hope of glory that can never be exhausted. So rest here a while, friend. Let this hope hold you. It has no end.

— the poet

Revelation 19:16

On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS.

Revelation 17:14

They will wage war against the Lamb, but the Lamb will triumph over them because he is Lord of lords and King of kings—and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers.

1 Timothy 6:15

which God will bring about in his own time—God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords.

1 Peter 1:3

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

Hebrews 6:19

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain.

Everything about

Colossians 1:27

To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.

Everything about Jesus Christ,

King of Kings and Lord of Lords,

Gives us majestic, ceaseless hope

That never fails, but ever soars.

His holy birth in humble stall,

The Word made flesh among the low,

Foretold by prophets long ago—

Isaiah’s Child, Emmanuel’s call—

Now shines where darkest shadows fall.

With every word of truth He spoke,

And miracles of healing power,

He stilled the storm and raised the dead,

And walked with grace through every hour.

Upon the cross His love was shown,

The Lamb who bore the weight of sin;

In dying, death itself He broke,

Disarmed the powers, triumphed then

(Colossians’ cry of victory won).

Then from the tomb He rose in light,

The grave could not contain His might;

Ascended high to reign above,

Yet present still in boundless love.

This hope, unlike the fleeting kind

That earthly treasures may bestow,

Is rooted in the eternal King

Whose promises forever flow.

When storms of sorrow crash and break,

And shadows lengthen through the night,

This ceaseless hope still holds its ground—

A fixed and ever-burning light.

No time can dim its radiant flame,

No trial quench its steady fire;

For Jesus lives, the risen Lord,

And lifts our longing ever higher.

Behold the Rider on the white horse,

Faithful and True, with eyes of flame;

A sharp sword issues from His mouth,

He judges, conquers in His name.

On His robe and on His thigh

The title written, clear and bold:

“King of Kings and Lord of Lords”—

The Alpha, Omega, from of old.

He tramples out the winepress fierce

Of wrath against the rebel throng;

Yet for His own, the blood-bought flock,

He sings the everlasting song.

Through every age and every land,

Where faith has fixed its trusting gaze,

This hope has sung its deathless song

Of mercy, power, and endless praise.

It whispers peace in deepest pain,

It strengthens hands that tremble weak;

It points beyond the fleeting hour

To joys no mortal tongue can speak—

The New Jerusalem descending,

Where God Himself shall wipe all tears,

And death shall die, and night shall flee

Before the Lamb through endless years.

Ceaseless it flows, a river pure,

From throne of grace that never ends;

In Christ our Anchor, sure and strong,

This hope through every trial transcends.

Victorious, majestic, sovereign King,

Whose complex plan from ages past

Unites the cross, the empty tomb,

The final triumph that shall last.

King of Kings and Lord of Lords,

His reign shall never know an end;

Thus hope in Him remains unceasing,

Our constant joy, our faithful Friend.

God of All Comfort, Victor Over Every Affliction by Debbie Harris

09 Sunday Aug 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These lines were born in a season of quiet trial, as I walk beside my beloved mother through the shadowed valley of sickness and pain. In these days we cling to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

We rest in the certainty that He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all will, in His perfect wisdom, either heal in time or perfect in eternity—making every affliction serve His redemptive purpose and turning even this present suffering into a deeper fellowship with the Man of Sorrows. His mercy is both tender and triumphant; His compassions fail not; and His victory over sin, sickness, and death is already secured at the cross and will be fully revealed when every tear is wiped away.

May these verses, written in the crucible of shared suffering, point your heart toward that same unfailing Mercy and steadfast Hope.

With hope in Christ,

The Poet

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.

Romans 8:32

He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?

Lamentations 3:22-23

It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.

Revelation 21:4

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

Psalm 46:1

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Psalm 91:1-2

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

Psalm 119:50

This is my comfort in my affliction: for thy word hath quickened me.

Psalm 94:19

In the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delight my soul.

O God of all comfort, whose mercies endure

Like dawn’s golden fingers that part the night’s veil,

When tempests of sorrow crash wild on the shore

And hearts, heavy-laden, in darkness grow pale—

Thou art the still waters that quiet the deep,

The conquering balm that shall close every wound;

In time or eternity none shalt Thou keep

Unhealed—Thy voice is the south wind unbound.

In valleys of shadow, where thorns crowd the way

And thunderheads gather with fury untamed,

Thy light is the lantern that turns night to day,

Thy hand is the harbor no tempest has claimed.

As dew on the lilies, as oil on the sea,

As manna that falls when the wilderness cries,

Thy comfort descends, pure, boundless, and free—

A river of mercy that never runs dry.

So lift we our eyes to the hills of Thy grace,

Where covenants of promise still shine after rain;

O God of all comfort, in Thee is our place—

Thy tender mercy conquers sickness and pain,

Soft as the morning, yet mighty to reign,

Till every affliction is forever made whole.

A Triumphant Adoration of the Trees and Mountains Fashioned by Christ the Creator by Debbie Harris

08 Saturday Aug 2026

Posted by in Christ-Created Nature, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

A Note from the Poet to the Reader

Dear Reader,

As I drove the winding roads toward the Biltmore Estate, the landscape unfolded before me like a living psalm. Mountains rose on every side in quiet, ancient majesty, their ridges soft with mist and light. Between them stood forests of trees—tall, unhurried, and triumphant—each one a testament to the creative hand of Christ.

Even the long approach through the estate’s eight thousand acres of pure beauty stirred something deep within me. Rolling hills clothed in green, towering hardwoods reaching skyward, and distant peaks glowing in the morning sun made my soul rise up in spontaneous praise. In that sacred hour of travel, surrounded by such unbroken splendour, the longing was born: to memorize every leaf, to embrace every trunk, and to give voice to the joy and victory written across this Christ-created world.

This poem is the triumphant adoration of that journey.

May your heart join mine in glad praise to Christ the Creator of mountains, trees, and light.

— The Poet

Genesis 1:11-12

And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so. And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind: and God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:31

And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.

Psalm 19:1

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

Psalm 96:11-12

Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof. Let the field be joyful, and all that is therein: then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice

Psalm 104:16-17

The trees of the Lord are full of sap; the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted; Where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir trees are her house.

Psalm 148:7-9

Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps: Fire, and hail; snow, and vapour; stormy wind fulfilling his word: Mountains, and all hills; fruitful trees, and all cedars:

Isaiah 55:12

For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

John 1:3

All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.

Colossians 1:16

For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him:

There is such beauty in each Christ-wrought tree,

Where every leaf is shaped by heavenly art;

I long to learn their silent mystery,

And press each trunk against a reverent heart.

From ancient oak to birch that gently sways,

Their branches rise in pure and sacred praise;

The Maker’s hand has ordered all their ways,

And robed the woods in green and golden days.

O let me trace the veins of every leaf,

The whispered wisdom carried on the breeze;

Embrace the bark that speaks of joy alone,

For trees stand crowned in victory and ease.

No shadow dims these pillars of the wood;

They stand unbowed through tempest, frost, and night,

Illumined by the One who named them good,

Triumphant in His everlasting light.

And mountains lift their majesty beside,

Their summits echo glory to the Lord;

With forests joined in triumph they abide,

Where Christ’s own love is endlessly adored.

The valleys deep and ridges steep rejoice,

As living woods ascend in steadfast throngs;

Each root and stone lifts up a steadfast voice,

And joins the chorus of eternal songs.

So let me walk these halls of living green,

And hold the bark that tells of joy complete;

Then raise my gaze to peaks serene, unseen,

And praise the Christ who, as Creator, lit all beauty into radiant light.

So Moved by Christ—the Shepherd Who Sees Every Detail

06 Thursday Aug 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

and Works Through His People with Kindness, Tender Love, and Provision by Debbie Harris

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

This poem was written during a season of deep trial and many tears. My Mom, who is my best friend, has been sick, and my twin brother’s son is in need of a liver transplant. In the midst of these overlapping valleys, the gift of friendship—both the deep bond I share with my Mom, brother’s family, and the kindness of God’s people—has been a profound and moving comfort to me. I have been so moved by their tenderness and provision, and even more by the faithful care of Christ Himself, the Shepherd who sees every detail and never leaves us alone.

May these words point you to Him in whatever trial you may be facing.

With love and hope in Christ,

The Poet

I stand in hushed wonder, soul bowed low,

Before the Savior who numbers every care—

No fleeting thought, no hidden tear or woe

Escapes the tender gaze of Him who meets me there.

His kindness moves like morning light through clay,

Through vessels formed by His own sovereign hand;

Yet every gift and quiet act of grace

Is Christ Himself at work as He has planned.

He marks the sparrow’s fall, the single hair,

The hidden ache that only He has known;

The midnight fear that steals across the air,

The longing left unnamed—yet never alone.

Love deeper than the cross, provision sure

As rivers flowing through a desert land,

He lends His people as His living hands

And writes our days—and those we love—by His command.

So moved am I by kindness pure and free,

By tender hearts that bear His gentle name;

Yet deeper still by Christ who works through them—

The Shepherd-King who loves and keeps the same.

From Him, Through Him, and To Him: All Things in Christ by Debbie Harris

03 Monday Aug 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Holy Week Monday, Praise, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Thanksgiving

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Romans 11:34–36

Dear Reader,

Come and stand a moment at the edge of this great deep. Here the apostle Paul, swept upward by the Spirit, falls silent before the unsearchable mind of God. He does not explain the mystery—he worships it.

Who has known the mind of the Lord? The question rolls like thunder across the ages, echoing the ancient cry of Isaiah and the whirlwind voice that once answered Job. No counselor has sat in the councils of eternity; no creature has first given to the Giver of all things. Yet from Him every river of existence flows, through Him every star holds its appointed course, and to Him every redeemed heart returns in praise.

In Christ the veil is parted. The eternal Word who was with God and was God has stepped into our dust, bearing the unsearchable wisdom in human flesh, pouring out the gift no hand could ever repay. At the cross the circle closes: all things from the Father, through the Son, for the glory that will never fade.

Read slowly. Let the questions humble you. Let the answer lift your eyes. And when the last line falls quiet, join the everlasting Amen.

Yours in the unsearchable riches of Christ,

The Poet

“Who has known the mind of the Lord?

Or who has been his counselor?”

“Who has ever given to God,

that God should repay them?”

For from him and through him and for him are all things.

To him be the glory forever! Amen.

Who has plumbed the mind of the living Lord,

Whose thoughts outsoar the starlit cord?

Who has drawn near as counselor wise,

To counsel Him who formed the skies?

No finite voice has shaped His will,

No mortal counsel scales that hill.

Yet Christ has come, the radiant Word,

In whom the Father’s mind is heard—

The wisdom veiled through ages past

Now shining clear, unveiled at last.

Who has first given to God some claim,

That heaven should answer with gift or name?

No hand has enriched the Boundless One,

No offering bought what grace has done.

Yet Christ, the Son, in love descended,

And freely gave what never ended:

His life laid down, His blood outpoured,

The priceless gift no wealth could afford.

He paid the debt we could not meet,

And rose to make the triumph complete.

All things from Him, the Father’s source,

Through Him, the Son, in sovereign force,

For Him, the goal of time and space,

The center of mercy, the heart of grace.

The galaxies wheel at His decree,

The oceans rise and fall by His sea;

Yet greater still: the souls He claims,

The hearts He frees from death’s dark chains.

In Christ the circle finds its close—

Creation, cross, and glory’s rose.

From Him the dawn, through Him the way,

For Him the endless, unbroken day.

All glory, wisdom, power, and praise

Belong to God through endless days.

No mind can fathom, no gift repay

The depths revealed in Christ the Way.

To Father, Son, and Spirit rise

The anthem that will never die.

When Winter Comes to the Heart That Raised You: Still the Blessings of the Savior Flow by Debbie Harris

01 Saturday Aug 2026

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

If these lines find you in the quiet ache of watching a parent decline—whether the fading is slow or sudden, whether memory still holds or has begun to slip—know that you are held by the same Christ who wept at the tomb of Lazarus and who still draws near to the brokenhearted.

I wrote these words for the sacred space between love and letting go, where roles reverse and strength becomes the child’s. Yet even here the gospel remains true: the Lord who is close to the crushed in spirit has not withdrawn His presence. His bountiful blessings take the form of His own companionship—the same Jesus who promised, “I am with you always,” walks these final miles with both the parent and the child who watches.

May these verses point you gently back to Him. May they remind you that the Light of the World does not wait for winter’s end to shine, and that every tear is already seen by the One who will one day wipe them all away.

In the sure hope of Christ,

The Poet

Even when the one who held you first grows frail,

And memory softens like the evening light,

When strength that once upheld you starts to fail

And days grow quieter, edged with coming night—

Still mercy moves beneath the heavy years.

In trembling hands that once could lift the world

A deeper tenderness at last appears;

In slower steps, a gentler love is unfurled.

The body wanes, yet something sacred stays:

The look that knows you still, the whispered name,

The quiet courage of declining days,

The grace that lingers, never quite the same.

God’s bountiful hand does not withdraw its gift—

It offers presence in the fading breath,

A chance to serve, to sit, to simply lift

The weight of love against the face of death.

So in this season, bitter, slow, and deep,

When roles reverse and strength becomes the child’s,

Blessing still walks where the weary weep,

And heaven draws near in soft and sacred miles.