Category Archives: Royally Redeemed

There Is Therefore Now No Condemnation(Romans 8:1 – A Hymn of Victory Over the Accuser) by Debbie Harris

15 Sunday Feb 2026

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Romans 8.1

There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

No condemnation now I own,
For I am hid in Christ alone;
The accuser’s voice, though fierce and loud,
Is drowned beneath the crimson flood.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

Day and night he charged my soul,
With sins of old that took their toll;
But Revelation’s thunder rings—
The dragon falls; the Lamb now reigns.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

Who shall accuse God’s chosen ones?
God justifies through His dear Son;
Christ died, He rose, He pleads above—
No charge can stand against His love.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

Come boldly to the throne of grace,
Not trembling in a guilty place,
But confident in mercy’s call,
Where help abounds for one and all.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

When shadows of the past arise,
And Satan whispers hopeless lies,
I point to Calvary’s tree so high—
“Behold the blood that speaks, ‘Not guilty!'”

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

No chains of flesh can bind me now,
I walk by Spirit, free somehow;
His power melts the foe like dew,
And peace—sweet Shalom—breaks through.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

O run, my soul, to grace’s door,
Where wrath is turned to welcome more;
The throne that once seemed far and dread
Now bids me come, by Jesus led.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

So let the accuser rage in vain;
His weapons fall, his power wanes.
In Christ alone my victory stands—
No condemnation—through His hands.

Refrain
No condemnation, precious word!
Consider it, my soul!
Thy sins on Jesus all were laid;
His blood has made thee whole.

There Is Therefore Now No Condemnation: A Declaration of Victory Over the Voice That Accuses Day and Night by Debbie Harris

15 Sunday Feb 2026

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The poem confronts the inner voice of accusation—the relentless “prosecutor” (Satan) who rehearses past sins, declares the soul guilty, and urges it to shrink from God in shame. Drawing directly from Scripture, it proclaims the accuser’s defeat: he has been cast down (Revelation 12), and his charges are powerless against God’s elect.

The core truth is victory through Christ’s finished work:

  • God Himself justifies; Christ died, rose, and intercedes (Romans 8:33–34).
  • There is now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus who walk by the Spirit (Romans 8:1).
  • Believers are invited to approach the throne of grace boldly, not in terror, but with confidence in mercy and help (Hebrews 4:16).

The enemy’s reminders of failure are answered by pointing to the cross, where the blood of Jesus speaks a better word—mercy, redemption, and “paid in full.” Accusation loses its grip as faith strengthens, obedience flows from love already received, and the soul rests hidden in Christ.

In the end, the poem calls the reader to run to God rather than flee, declaring shalom—unbroken peace—because the accuser is subdued forever by the triumph of the Lamb. It is a hymn of liberation, assurance, and bold access to grace.

Romans 8:1
There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit

A voice arises in the night so deep,
Relentless prosecutor of my shame,
Rehearsing sins that make the weary weep,
And whispers, “Guilty—God withdraws His name.”

Yet Revelation speaks the accuser’s fall,
Cast down from heaven’s courts where he once stood,
His charges hurled against the brethren all,
But powerless now beneath the cleansing flood.

Who dares to lay a charge on God’s elect?
The Judge Himself has justified the soul;
Christ died, He rose—His blood pays every debt,
And shuts the mouth of condemnation’s toll.

Come boldly then unto the throne of grace,
Not cringing low in terror of the past,
But confident, for mercy finds its place
In wounds that heal and love that holds steadfast.

No condemnation shadows those in Christ,
Who walk by Spirit, not the flesh’s chain;
The cross declares the verdict: “Paid in full”—the price—
And Satan’s arrows fall in futile rain.

When he reminds of failures long ago,
Point swift to Calvary, where mercy flows;
His lies grow faint, his power melts like snow,
Beneath the blood that better witness shows.

So run, O soul, to grace’s open door,
Not fleeing wrath, but claiming what is thine;
The throne rejects thee nevermore—
For Jesus’ blood forever speaks: “Thou’rt mine.”

Shalom—peace unbroken, hope renewed,
In Christ alone, the accuser is subdued.

What Manner of Love Divine: From Dust Exalted and Crowned—Sons and Daughters, Royal Heirs Where Grace Abounds by Debbie Harris

13 Friday Feb 2026

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Inspired by 1 John 3:1–2 (KJV), the poem celebrates the astonishing, lavish love of the Father that transforms us from mere dust into His beloved sons and daughters. We are already adopted royal heirs, crowned with dignity and grace on earth today—children of God in the present, shining with divine light amid a world that does not recognize us. Though our full future glory (being like Him when we see Him face to face) remains veiled, the poem calls the heart to rise in holy awe, rejoicing in this eternal truth: from humble origins we are exalted, crowned as royal heirs where grace abounds forever.

1 John 3:1–2 (KJV)
Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not. Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.

Behold! what manner of love divine
The Father hath lavished, boundless, free,
Upon our souls in mercy’s grand design—
That sons and daughters of God we should be!
And such we are—O mystery profound!
Adopted heirs to heaven’s royal throne,
No fleeting title, no uncertain sound,
But truth eternal, written, ever known.

Yet mark the world, in blindness wrapped and cold,
Knows us not, for it knew Him not of old;
Its darkened eyes cannot perceive the light
That shines in sons and daughters born of grace.
Beloved, we stand as royal children here,
On earth already claimed by heaven’s call—
Though what we yet shall be lies veiled from sight,
A glory hid within the sacred thrall.

But this we know with certainty most sure:
When He appears in splendor ever bright,
We shall be like Him, pure as heaven’s fire,
For face to face we’ll see our Lord in light.
Transformed, transfigured in that final dawn,
His likeness ours, His beauty ours to wear—
O rapturous hope! The veil shall soon be drawn,
And love’s full triumph crown us children there.

Rise, heart, and soar on wings of holy awe—
What love! What Father! What eternal call!
From dust exalted—sons and daughters crowned
As royal heirs on earth, where grace abounds!

Shall Tomorrow Bring a Fifth? Four Apples of Gold in a Silvered Day’s Quiet Roll by Debbie Harris

04 Wednesday Feb 2026

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Proverbs 25:11 (KJV)
A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.

In the hush of this silvered day,
four apples of gold have quietly rolled—

one slipped from a laugh at the morning’s first light,
one tumbled in answer to questions of night,
one bloomed as comfort when tears would not cease,
one lifted another, esteeming them higher than self.

Four golden orbs in pictures of silver,
spoken, then caught in the listener’s mirror.

No more, no less—
just four small suns today,
wrapped in the cool alloy of what we say.

Tomorrow, will you seek to speak a fifth—
a word so fitly chosen, so humbly given,
that another’s heart might glimpse the gold
and carry it into their own quiet dawn?

Fidelity To God: The Joyful Journey On The Strait And Narrow Road Of His Word by Debbie Harris

29 Thursday Jan 2026

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John 15:10-11

10 If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.
11 These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

In throngèd paths where fleeting fashions reign,
The crowd pursues the glitter of the age,
Their voices loud with pleasure’s sweet refrain,
Yet hollow echoes fill the gilded stage.
True faith to God demands no mimic art,
No bending knee to idols of the hour;
It scorns the tide that pulls the fainting heart,
And walks the way upheld by higher pow’r.
When popular waves crash with mocking scorn,
And compromise whispers soft and sly,
The soul that clings to heaven’s ancient horn
Rejoices still, though few the path descry.
For loyalty to Him who rules above
Means joyful journey on the narrow road of love.

Thrones Shaken, Hearts Besieged: The Grand Epic of the War in Heaven, the Fall of Man, and the Triumph of the Lamb (written in heroic couplets) by Debbie Harris

28 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed, Spiritual Warfare

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The poem is written in heroic couplets: rhyming pairs of iambic pentameter lines (AABB rhyme scheme), delivering a crisp, rhythmic, and classically elegant narrative flow.

This epic poem, recast in heroic couplets of rhyming iambic pentameter, traces the cosmic and personal saga of spiritual warfare from the dawn of creation to the final victory of righteousness. It opens with the radiant Light-Bearer’s prideful rebellion in heaven, igniting a cataclysmic war among angelic hosts; Michael leads the loyal, but the Son, in blazing chariot, casts Lucifer headlong into the burning lake of his own making. The conflict shifts to earth, where the serpent’s cunning whisper tempts Eve in Eden, shattering innocence and bringing exile, toil, and death—yet embedding within the curse the promise that the Woman’s seed will crush the serpent’s head. Across the centuries, the unseen battle rages within every human soul: a joyful home of laughter and fellowship becomes a target for envious shadows that seek to extinguish light and turn peace to dread, while the besieged mind faces arrows of doubt and flames of fear—yet the faithful stand armored in truth, righteousness, and unyielding faith, quenching the Accuser’s fiery darts. The poem crescendos to apocalypse: the many-headed dragon roars accusations before the throne, but the Lamb’s shed blood silences him; the Lion returns in terrible glory to tread the winepress of wrath, hurling the ancient foe into eternal fire. In the end, righteousness reigns unchallenged—no more tears, no night, no tempter—every knee bows to the eternal Lamb who was, is, and is to come, restoring all things in unending light.

In realms unseen where primal light first shone,
A star arose, most brilliant, called the Son
Of Morning—Light-Bearer in glory bright,
Whose wings eclipsed the dawn of endless night.
Yet pride, that venom old as sin’s first breath,
Coiled in his heart and whispered: “Equal death
To Thee who reigns! Why bow when I might claim
The throne eternal in Thy holy name?”

So Heaven trembled; crystal vaults rang loud
With clarion wrath as loyal hosts were cowed
No more. Michael, with flaming sword in hand,
Led forth the faithful through the empyrean land.
Rebel ranks clad in armor forged of spite
Met them in fury, shadows piercing light.
Spears of black envy flew; the fields of gold
Became a carnage where bright seraphs bold
Bled streams of glory, not of mortal blood.
Three days the strife endured in fire and flood,
Till He who sits upon the sapphire seat
Spoke once: “Enough.” The Son arose to meet
The rebel storm in chariot of flame,
And with one glance hurled Lucifer to shame—
Headlong through spheres of crystal, void, and fire,
Into the burning lake of his desire.

Yet war did not conclude with Heaven’s peace;
The serpent slithered earthward, seeking cease
No more in subtlety. In Eden’s green
He found the woman fair, the man serene.
No trumpet blast, but whisper soft and sly:
“Did God indeed say you shall surely die?”
The fruit hung tempting, sweet upon the tongue;
One bite, and innocence forever flung
Away. Righteousness stood naked, shamed,
Accused by winds that through the garden came.
Exile ensued—thorns, sweat, and dust—but still
A promise lingered in the ancient ill:
The Woman’s seed would crush the serpent’s head
And turn the curse to blessing in its stead.

Through ages vast the unseen battle runs,
In every heart where joy and light are won.
A home of laughter, where loved ones abide,
Where songs ascend and peace flows like a tide—
Yet shadows prowl the threshold, envious, cold,
Seeking to enter, snuff the flame, unfold
The feast in dread, and leave the halls forlorn.
In every mind a fortress, battle-worn,
Where doubt shoots arrows swift, and fear ignites
Like wildfire—yet faith stands guard through nights
Of siege, the shield no fiery dart can breach,
Quenching the Accuser’s lies in truth’s own speech.

The dragon roars, vast-headed, sweeping stars
From heaven’s vault with blasphemous scars.
He accuses day and night before the throne,
Yet Lamb’s own blood outcries him, overthrown.
The end draws near: the Lion roars once more,
The slain Lamb rises in the skies to pour
Wrath’s winepress down upon the ancient foe,
And hurl him into fire prepared below.
Forever bound in consequence he chose,
While righteousness in splendor ever grows—
No tears, no night, no tempter’s voice to fear;
All knees shall bend, and every tongue declare
The Lamb who was, who is, who is to come,
The Alpha, Omega, the victory won.

From the Seven Churches to the Throne: A Series of Shakespearean Sonnets on Overcoming through Christ and Claiming His Promised Blessings by Debbie Harris

27 Tuesday Jan 2026

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This collection of seven Shakespearean sonnets offers a poetic meditation on the promises Christ makes to “him that overcometh” in Revelation chapters 2 and 3, addressing the seven churches of Asia with their unique spiritual challenges—lost love in Ephesus, persecution in Smyrna, compromise in Pergamos, false teaching in Thyatira, spiritual deadness in Sardis, faithful endurance in Philadelphia, and lukewarm complacency in Laodicea—while celebrating the glorious eternal rewards granted to the faithful: the tree of life in paradise, immunity from the second death, hidden manna and a white stone with a new name, authority over nations and the morning star, white raiment and an unblotted name in the book of life, a permanent pillar in God’s temple inscribed with divine names, and the supreme privilege of sitting with Christ on His throne. Through vivid biblical imagery, calls to repentance and perseverance, and a consistent iambic pentameter structure, each sonnet reflects on the path to victory amid trials and closes with the unifying, prayerful refrain: “May we all be the over-comers through Jesus Christ our Lord,” inviting every believer to claim these promises by faith in Christ.

  1. To Ephesus – The Tree of Life
    Revelation 2:7 (KJV – promise portion)
    To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God.

In Ephesus, where fervor first grew dim,
And love for Christ had cooled in daily strife,
Yet those who guard their hearts and turn to Him
Shall taste the tree of life, restoring life.
No more the curse of Eden’s fallen gate,
But paradise restored in endless bloom;
The fruit that heals the soul, eternal fate,
Awaits the overcomer in that room.
Though works abound, yet first love must return,
Repent and do the deeds of old again;
The Spirit calls, let ears attentive burn—
For victory crowns the faithful amid pain.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  1. To Smyrna – Not Hurt by the Second Death
    Revelation 2:11 (KJV – promise portion)
    He that overcometh shall not be hurt of the second death.

Poor Smyrna, rich in faith though pressed by flame,
Where tribulation’s fire tests the soul;
The devil’s prison waits, yet bears no shame
For those who faithful stand to reach the goal.
Fear not the ten days’ trial, though fierce it be,
The crown of life shall rest upon thy brow;
The second death holds no authority
O’er him who overcomes—death’s sting avow.
In poverty exalted, thou art blessed,
Slandered by those who claim the synagogue;
But Christ Himself shall prove thee truly dressed
In robes of righteousness, no fear to bind.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  1. To Pergamos – Hidden Manna and White Stone
    Revelation 2:17 (KJV – promise portion)
    To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.

Pergamos sits where Satan’s throne is high,
Yet some hold fast amid the compromise;
The doctrine of Balaam tempts with subtle lie,
Nicolaitanes’ deeds draw compromising eyes.
Repent, or swiftly come the sword of truth;
But to the overcomer, grace is shown:
Hidden manna feeds the soul in eternal youth,
A white stone gleams with name that none has known.
No eye perceives, no tongue can speak its worth,
A secret token of acceptance pure;
In Christ concealed, yet known from heaven’s birth—
The faithful heart shall this new name secure.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  1. To Thyatira – Power Over Nations and the Morning Star
    Revelation 2:26-28 (KJV – promise portion)
    And he that overcometh, and keepeth my works unto the end, to him will I give power over the nations: And he shall rule them with a rod of iron; as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to shivers: even as I received of my Father. And I will give him the morning star.

Thyatira bears the weight of Jezebel’s spell,
False prophetess who leads My servants astray;
Yet those who hold what truth they have so well
Shall overcome and rule in coming day.
Power o’er the nations granted to the end,
A rod of iron breaking pots of clay;
The morning star shall shine, bright to defend—
As I received from Father, so I say.
Keep works unto the end, let patience grow,
Resist seduction’s lure in darkest night;
The faithful one shall in My kingdom know
Authority and glory in My light.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  1. To Sardis – White Raiment and Name in the Book of Life
    Revelation 3:5 (KJV – promise portion)
    He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.

Sardis, thou livest yet art dead within,
A name of life that hides a barren state;
Wake up, strengthen what remains, lest sin
Consume the remnant ere it be too late.
Remember what thou hast received and heard,
Hold fast, repent, lest I come as a thief;
But he who overcomes, in white is gird,
His name confessed before My Father’s grief.
No blotting from the book of life shall be,
But angels hear the Son declare his own;
In garments pure, eternally set free—
The victory won where grace is fully known.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  1. To Philadelphia – Pillar in the Temple and New Names
    Revelation 3:12 (KJV – promise portion)
    Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name.

Philadelphia, little strength yet true,
An open door no man can ever shut;
Kept from the hour of trial that shall brew
Upon the world, thy faith has not been cut.
Hold fast thy crown, let none thy prize remove;
The overcomer stands a pillar strong
In God’s own temple, marked by endless love—
New names inscribed where saints forever throng.
My God’s name, the city’s name above,
The new Jerusalem descending bright;
And My new name, a token of His love—
Eternal marks of glory in His sight.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

  1. To Laodicea – Sit with Christ on His Throne
    Revelation 3:21 (KJV – promise portion)
    To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.

Laodicea, neither hot nor cold,
Lukewarm and wretched, blind, and poor, and bare;
Buy gold refined, white raiment to enfold,
And eyesalve that thy sight may be made fair.
Behold, I stand and knock—let Me come in;
Sup with Me, and I with thee shall dine;
To him that overcometh, victory win:
Sit with Me on My throne, as victory’s sign.
As I overcame and sat with Father high,
So thou shalt share in regal fellowship;
The greatest promise lifts the soul on high—
Eternal reign where grace and glory grip.
May we all be the over-comers
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Tragedy of the Woke, and Christ’s Eternal, Triumphant Victory by Debbie Harris

25 Sunday Jan 2026

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1 John 5:4-5 (KJV)
For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith. Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God?

In days of shadowed pride, where man exalts his throne,
The “woke” arise in fury, claiming light their own.
They weave a web of words, all mercy without law,
Denying sin’s dark stain, and God’s most holy awe.

No cross to bear, no blood to plead, no Savior’s name they call—
Their gospel hollow echoes through the empty hall.
Soulless masks of virtue cloak the ancient lie,
That man himself is god, and needs no Christ to die.

What needless tragedy! A soul, once made for light,
Trades heaven’s endless joy for everlasting night.
They chase the fleeting wind of fleeting human praise,
And bind their hearts in chains of self-made, godless ways.

The heart grows cold and barren, void of Spirit’s flame,
No hunger for the Bread, no thirsting for His name.
They march in blinded legions toward the gaping maw,
Where hell’s devouring jaws await without a flaw.

Yet lo! The Lion roars from Zion’s holy hill—
King Jesus reigns supreme, His purpose to fulfill!
The grave could not contain Him; death lies broken, slain;
He burst the gates of hell and rose to life again!

O sinner, turn from folly! Behold the wounded hands!
The scars that plead for mercy to rebellious lands.
Repent, believe, be washed in Calvary’s crimson flood—
The Lamb who takes away the curse, the wrath, the blood.

Redeemed, the soul ascends on wings of grace divine,
Through trials, through fire, to glory’s endless shine.
No power of darkness, no lie the world can weave,
Can snatch the sheep from Him who died that they might live.

For Christ is Victor! Every knee shall bow and sing,
The Alpha and Omega, the everlasting King!
While woke illusions crumble into dust and flame,
His ransomed children rise to praise His matchless name.

In Heaven’s courts they stand, arrayed in robes of white,
Where sin and sorrow flee before eternal light.
What needless tragedy the lost in darkness keep—
When Jesus offers life, and bids the weary leap!

All hail the conquering Christ! The battle’s won, the prize is won—
Redeemed forever, free, beneath the Father’s Son.
Let woke delusions perish in their pride and shame—
But Jesus reigns victorious—forever reigns supreme!

Queen Esther’s Valiant Approach: For Such a Time as This – A Royal Entrance into the King’s Presence and the Triumph of Courage by Debbie Harris

23 Friday Jan 2026

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In Shushan’s palace, where the cedars weep

Resin like tears of amber in the sun,

And marble veins pulse gold beneath the feet

Of satraps bowed in silk and unison—

There dwelt a queen, fair Esther, orphaned rose,

Plucked from the ashes of a captive kin,

Her beauty veiled in mystery’s heavy cloak,

A star concealed in Xerxes’ diadem.


The king, upon his throne of ivory carved

With lions rampant, gems like frozen fire,

Held court amid the incense-clouded air,

Where harps sighed soft and eunuchs never tire.

His scepter, tipped with gold from Ophir’s mine,

Lay heavy as the edicts of his will;

To enter unannounced was death’s design,

A shadow falling swift on palace hill.


Yet Haman’s plot, that venomous decree,

Sealed doom for Mordecai’s unbowed race—

The Jews, her people, scattered like the sea

Before the storm of pride’s unholy grace.

In chambers hung with tapestries of blue,

Where fountains whispered secrets to the night,

Esther fasted, clad in sackcloth’s ashen hue,

Her heart a forge where courage burned bright.


“For such a time as this,” her cousin spake,

Through veils of peril, words like thunder rolled;

The throne room loomed, a dragon’s golden wake,

Where one false step could shatter souls of old.

She rose at dawn, in royal robes arrayed—

Purple of Tyre, embroidered with the vine,

Pearls from the deep like tears unshed cascade,

Her crown a halo forged in fear divine.

The halls unfurled like scrolls of ancient lore,

Pillars of alabaster, tall and stern,

Guarded by spears that gleamed on checkered floor,

Where eunuchs parted like a silent fern.

Her steps echoed soft on jaspers veined with red,

A heartbeat drumming ‘gainst the throne’s decree;

The courtiers gasped, the air grew thick with dread—

Unsummoned queen, what folly this might be?

Before the king she bowed, a lily bent

In tempest’s breath, her eyes like midnight pools;

His gaze, once fierce as eagles’ fierce ascent,

Now softened at her grace amid the jewels.

“If I have found favor in your sight, O king,”

She whispered, voice a harp-string finely tuned,

“Come feast with me, and let the truth take wing—

For death’s own shadow in my blood is crooned.”


The scepter rose, extended like a bridge

Of mercy o’er the abyss of royal ire;

Gold touched her hand, a spark on fiery ridge,

And life bloomed fresh from peril’s funeral pyre.

At banquets twain, ‘mid wines from Helbon’s vine,

She unveiled the serpent in the grass—

Haman unmasked, his gallows his design,

Swung high for pride’s eternal, bitter mass.

Thus courage crowned her, in that hour divine,

A queen who breached the veil for kith and kin;

The king’s edict reversed, like stars align,

And Purim’s joy from sorrow’s depths begin.

In Persia’s annals, etched in lapis stone,

Her name endures—a beacon ‘gainst the throne

Of tyranny, where faith and valor shone

For such a time as this, forever known.

If God Be For Us, Who Can Be Against Us by Debbie Harris

10 Wednesday Dec 2025

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed, Spiritual Warfare

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Summary (one sentence):
A bold, triumphant poem celebrating the invincible truth of Romans 8:31—“If God is for us, who can be against us?”—by declaring that no enemy, power, trial, or even death itself can prevail against those whom God defends, illustrated through biblical victories and culminating in Christ’s ultimate triumph.

Core message: With God as our champion, every adversary is already defeated; therefore we stand fearless and victorious.

Who shall rise when Heaven’s banner flies?
The Almighty stands—His thunder fills the skies!
No horde of hell, no empire forged in pride,
Can breach the rampart where Jehovah hides
His chosen ones beneath the shadow of His sword.

Let Pharaoh’s chariots rattle on the shore,
Let Goliath roar and shake his spear once more—
The sea divides, the stone already sings,
The giant falls before the King of kings.
If God be for us, trembling foes are dust.

The lions’ den grows silent at His word,
The fiery furnace cools where faith is heard;
Three men walk free, a fourth like Heaven’s Son—
The flames bow low, the battle already won.

Though darkness plot and principalities rage,
Though death itself turn every mortal page,
Yet Christ has torn the veil and burst the grave—
The Victor rises, and His risen wave
Sweeps every enemy beneath eternal tide.

So lift the anthem, blood-bought and unafraid:
Our Captain fights, and every debt is paid!
If God be for us—who? Let legions come—
They charge to ruin ‘gainst the Lord of hosts’ own drum.

The gates of hell shall splinter, crack, and yield;
The Lamb Himself rides forth upon the field.
All heaven thunders, earth and grave confess:
Victorious is the Lord our Righteousness!

If God be for us—who can stand against?
Not one. Not ever.
Amen. And amen.