Category Archives: Spiritual Warfare

Seared Hearts and Sleeping Souls: The Quiet Tragedy of Our Desensitization by Debbie Harris

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Luke warm, Spiritual Warfare, Taking A Stand Against Evil, The curse of being luke warm

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Dear Reader,

I wrote these lines not as one who claims any moral superiority, but as one who, by God’s sheer and undeserved grace, has been kept from the full weight of that slow dulling of the soul the poem describes. I have not felt the same progressive numbness that has settled over so much of our culture—yet I know it is only grace that has preserved me, not any strength of my own. The same heart that beats in me is capable of the same hardness; apart from the continual mercy of God, I too would drift. Biblical theology is clear on this danger. From the beginning, sin is not merely a mistake; it is a turning away from the God who is life itself:

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.
— Romans 3:23 (KJV)

The apostle Paul warns of those whose consciences are seared:

“Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron.”
— 1 Timothy 4:2 (KJV)

and of minds that become darkened:

“Having the understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart: Who being past feeling have given themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness.”
— Ephesians 4:18–19 (KJV)

Isaiah cried out against a people who reversed moral truth:

“Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!”
— Isaiah 5:20 (KJV)

Jesus Himself wept over Jerusalem:

And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, Saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, And shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another; because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation.
— Luke 19:41–44 (KJV)

The danger is real and eternal:

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
— Romans 6:23 (KJV)

Yet the same Scriptures that expose our peril also hold out mercy. God takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked:

Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? saith the Lord GOD: and not that he should return from his ways, and live?
— Ezekiel 18:23 (KJV)

Christ came not to condemn the world:

For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.
— John 3:17 (KJV)

The poem is therefore not a final word of despair, but a quiet alarm—an invitation to awaken, to name what is broken, and to return to the One who still calls, “Come to Me.”If these lines disturb you, let them. If they awaken even a small hunger for holiness, give thanks. The Spirit still convicts, still softens, still restores. And if, like me, you have been spared thus far, then join me in trembling gratitude—knowing that every day of spiritual sensitivity is pure gift.

To God be the glory—always and only.

The Poet

In the glare of endless screens,
sin slips soft as silk,
no longer a wound that bleeds,
but a background hum we barely hear.

We scroll past the sacred
and call the hollow holy,
trade the weight of conscience
for the lightness of “whatever feels right.”
The old names—lust, pride, greed, envy—
have been rebranded into lifestyle,
identity, self-care,
until the soul forgets it ever had a pulse.

How tragic:
hearts once made for fire
now settle for the flicker of a notification.
Children learn the language of appetite
before they learn the language of awe.
Mercy is mocked as weakness,
repentance as shame,
and the quiet voice that once said “Stop”
is drowned by a chorus of “You do you.”

How dangerous for souls:
for what we no longer call sin
still devours in the dark.
It hollows the eyes,
frays the bonds between us,
and leaves us wandering
in a fog of our own making—
convinced we are free
while the chains grow tighter
around the part of us that was meant to fly.

We have become a culture
that laughs at the cliff edge,
calls the fall “progress,”
and wonders why so many
feel the wind but never the landing.

Wake, if you can still hear.
The tragedy is not only that we sin—
but that we have forgotten
how to weep for it.

In the World but Not of It: The Friction of Faithful Obedience and the Harbor of Christ’s Peace by Debbie Harris

21 Tuesday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Spiritual Warfare, Thanksgiving

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Dear Reader,

This poem was born in the tension every sincere follower of Christ eventually feels — the sense of moving against the current of the age. The world flows one direction; the cross pulls us another. There is real friction, real cost, and sometimes real loneliness in that obedience.

Yet in the very place of conflict, Jesus offers something the world cannot give: a deep, abiding peace that does not depend on circumstances. I wanted to paint this reality with living images — the glittering crowd, the backward pilgrim, the sparks of resistance, and the quiet flame of Christ burning within.

My prayer is that these lines will strengthen your heart to keep walking the narrow way with courage and hope. The road may be hard, but it is never walked alone. The Savior who calls you also carries you, and the peace He gives is stronger than every storm.

May you hear His voice afresh:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Grace and strength to you on the backward path,

The Poet

Romans 12:2

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

John 17:16

They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.

2 Timothy 3:12

Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.

John 14:27

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Matthew 7:13-14

Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.

John 16:33

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.

1 John 2:15-17

Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.

Through velvet night the multitude advances,

A glittering flood of silk and shattered glances,

Chasing lanterns hung on mist and lies—

Broad road of self where every pleasure dies.

Yet one lone pilgrim presses contraflow,

Face lit by a cross that only saints may know.

Each step a wound, each breath a battle cry,

While heaven’s whisper thunders, “Follow, I.”

Society’s wide river, swift and loud,

Sweeps gilded barges toward the waiting shroud.

The pilgrim wades against the current’s flood,

A living scandal to the world’s false god.

The friction sparks—flames lick the pilgrim’s frame;

Derision howls like wolves that scent the slain.

Yet in the furnace of their scorn refined,

A still, small voice breathes peace the world can’t find.

For Christ, the Rock that cleaves the raging sea,

Has planted deep an anchor, firm and free.

No gale can loose the peace His wounds secured—

A crystal river where the Lamb is Lord.

Though friendships fracture like a brittle reed

And crowns of comfort tumble as they bleed,

The pilgrim lifts their eyes where thorn-crowned glory shines,

And tastes the joy no earthly chain confines.

O soul, arise and join this backward race—

The narrow path where Jesus sets the pace.

In conflict’s forge His image you shall bear,

And wear the peace that calms the tempests there.

May We Look Upon All Sin as Our Enemy: A Call to Holy Vigilance by Debbie Harris

20 Monday Jul 2026

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

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

In a world that so often softens, excuses, or even celebrates what Scripture calls sin, this poem is a quiet call to holy clarity. May we never make peace with what seeks to destroy us. Sin is not a harmless flaw or a cultural quirk—it is the ancient enemy of the soul. Yet we do not fight alone. Greater is He who has already overcome it.

My prayer is that these lines stir in you a deeper vigilance, a fiercer love for holiness, and an abiding hope in the Victor who sets us free.

With grace and urgency,

The Poet

Genesis 4:7 — If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.

Psalm 119:11 — Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee.

James 1:14-15 — But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed. Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.

Romans 6:23 — For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

1 Peter 5:8 — Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

Ephesians 6:11-12 — Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

1 Corinthians 15:57 — But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

In twilight chambers of the restless soul,

May we look upon all sin as our enemy—

A silken thief that glides without a sound,

To steal the light no treasury can hold.

It wears the mask of pleasure, soft and bright,

Whispers “One taste only,” then devours the night.

It flatters pride with crowns of fool’s gold spun,

Then topples every throne when judgment comes.

Awake, O heart! Take up the watch and sword,

For sin is no companion, but a horde

That marches under banners falsely fair,

To bind the will in chains none else can wear.

Call it by its true name—traitor, blight,

Ancient serpent, father of the lie—

Meet it at the threshold, never yield,

With prayer’s keen blade and truth’s unyielding shield.

Within the fortress of the contrite breast,

Where holy fire burns and will finds rest,

We cast its shadows out, reject its claim,

And walk unscorched through refining flame.

For One has conquered it who broke its reign,

Rose from the grave and washed away its stain.

Lift up your eyes, let every battle cry

Ring clear: “All sin’s my foe—and in His name, I fly!”

Stand fast, beloved pilgrim, through the storm;

The victory is sealed, the crown transformed.

May we look upon all sin as our enemy—

And run at last in freedom’s boundless sea.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Searcher of every hidden chamber of the heart and faithful Keeper of our souls,

Open our eyes to see all sin for what it truly is—our relentless enemy, the silken thief, the ancient serpent, the destroyer of joy and peace.

Grant us holy clarity where the world offers excuses.

Awaken us from spiritual slumber.

Arm us with the sword of Your Word and the shield of faith.

Fill us afresh with the power of Your Holy Spirit,

that we may resist every temptation, reject every lie,

and stand firm when the battle rages.

Lead us daily to the cross where sin was defeated,

and to the empty tomb where victory was sealed.

May our lives become living proof of Your redeeming grace—

free, courageous, and wholly surrendered to You.

Let every battle cry rise as worship,

and every step forward become a testimony of Your triumph.

We ask this in the mighty, matchless name of Jesus Christ,

our Victor, our Redeemer, and our eternal King.

Amen.

This World Is Not Our Home: Standing Firm as Evil Is Exuberantly Celebrated, and False Faith Embraces Darkness by Debbie Harris

19 Sunday Jul 2026

Posted by in Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Spiritual Warfare

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

I wrote this poem with a heavy yet hopeful heart. In these darkening days, we see what Scripture warned us about: Satan’s ancient mission to lie, kill, and destroy is no longer hidden. Evil is not merely tolerated — it is celebrated with exuberance. Even some who call themselves Christians now applaud wickedness and twist grace into a license for sin. Proverbs 2:10-22 reminds us that true wisdom will guard our steps and deliver us from the path of those who “rejoice in doing evil.” This world is growing louder in its rebellion, but take heart — this world is not our home. We are pilgrims passing through. My prayer is that these words will stir discernment in your spirit, strengthen your resolve to cling to God’s unchanging Word, and fix your eyes on the only One who gives life abundantly. Stand firm. The Light still wins.

With prayer and urgency,
The Poet

In shadows deep where darkness schemes,
Satan advances with cunning gleams.
His ancient vow, a venomous art:
To lie, to kill, to tear apart.
He steals our joy, our hope, our breath,
Brings only ruin, pain, and death.
With twisted tongue he lures the weak,
And sets his deadly traps they seek.

This is how you know his hand—
When fruit is poison in the land,
When promises become cruel chains,
When hatred only hate sustains.
If it defies the Word of Truth,
If it destroys the good and youth,
If it wars against the holy scroll—
Then know the thief who steals the soul.

Yet heed the call of wisdom’s voice,
As Proverbs shows the righteous choice:
When knowledge fills the heart with light,
Discretion guards the path aright.
It rescues from the evil way,
From crooked speech that leads astray,
From those who stride in darkness’ tide—
Who never mourn the harm they’ve done,
But laugh with glee when damage’s won.
They revel in their wickedness,
Exult in horror, curse the bless’d.
They celebrate evil, get exuberant,
Wild with delight at what is abhorrent.
They clap and cheer with shameless glee
For deeds that wound humanity.

Beware the ones who claim His name,
Yet dance with sin and flaunt their shame.
They wear the cross but serve the night,
Twist grace to license every vice.
They call Him Lord with lying breath,
While celebrating moral death.

The world grows darker every hour,
More like the realm of Satan’s power.
Evil struts without a blush,
Immorality met with wild hush.
This world is not our lasting home—
We are but pilgrims here below.
Our eyes are fixed on realms above,
The city built on perfect love.

The upright walk in blessing’s light,
The faithful anchored in God’s sight.
No snare of hell can bind them fast—
For dawn will break when night has passed.
Choose life abundant, pure and true,
The Shepherd’s voice that calls to you.
For Christ has come that we may live,
While Satan only comes to give
Ruin and dust and open grave.
Stand firm, O soul, in wisdom’s brave!

Cling to the Word that never bends,
Where truth and life forever blend.
Against the thief and every lie,
Let heaven’s blazing light reply.
Though earth grows cold and filled with night,
Our true home waits in glory bright.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,

In a world that grows darker by the hour, where evil is celebrated with exuberance and even some who bear Your name rejoice in wickedness, grant us eyes to see and ears to discern. Fill us with the wisdom of Proverbs that guards our hearts and paths. Protect us from the thief who comes only to steal, kill, and destroy. Keep us rooted in Your unchanging Word. Let us walk as pilgrims whose true home is with You. Strengthen every weary believer, expose every false light, and draw the lost to the true Shepherd who gives life abundant. May we stand firm, shine brightly, and never lose hope — for the Light has already overcome the darkness.

In the mighty name of Jesus Christ our Lord,
Amen.

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

19 Sunday Jul 2026

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

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Dear Reader,

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

From the Poet

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

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

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

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

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

And you are enough—a false, beguiling dream.

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

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

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

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father,


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

In the mighty name of Jesus Christ our Lord,


Amen.

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

19 Sunday Jul 2026

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

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Poet’s Note

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

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

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

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

If the lines wound, let them wound unto healing.


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


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

Soli Deo gloria.
— The Poet

The Two-Edged Word & Power of Scripture

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

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

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

Lukewarm / Laodicean Church & Counterfeit Gospel

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

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

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

Holiness, Judgment & the Fear of God

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

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

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

Call to Repentance & Awakening

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

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

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

Full Counsel of God

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Closing Prayer

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

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

19 Sunday Jul 2026

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

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

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

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

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

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

In solemn witness,
The Poet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

King Jesus Reigns Supreme: An Unyielding Battle Cry for America’s Soul Against Islam, Marxism, Demonic Darkness, and Moral Collapse by Debbie Harris

18 Saturday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Communism Is Treason, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Spiritual Warfare, The Absolute Evil Of Islam, Triumphant

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

This poem was written in fervent prayer and with a burning heart for our beloved country. It is not born of anger or hatred toward people, but of deep love for truth, righteousness, and the souls of men and women made in the image of God.

In an age when false ideologies rise boldly — seeking to enslave minds, nations, and consciences — I felt compelled by the Holy Spirit to lift up the Name that is above every name. Jesus Christ is not merely a religious figure; He is the living King, the Conqueror of darkness, the Redeemer of nations.

May these words stir your faith, strengthen your resolve, and call you to your knees. May they remind you that the battle belongs to the Lord, and that greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world.

Let us stand together — not in our own strength, but in the power of the Cross and the hope of the Resurrection — until our land turns back to Christ.

For His glory alone,

The Poet

Psalm 33:12

Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD; and the people whom he hath chosen for his own inheritance.

Additional Key Verses

Philippians 2:9-11

Wherefore God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Ephesians 6:12

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

2 Corinthians 10:3-4

For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;)

Matthew 28:18

And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth.

John 8:36

If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.

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.

Romans 8:37

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

Arise, O my nation, beneath heaven’s gaze,

Where liberty’s torch once defied darker days.

The shadows encroach—crescent, hammer, and horn—

Yet Christ is exalted, the Crucified, sworn.

No rival submission, no Marxist deceit,

No serpent’s seduction our souls shall entreat.

For Jesus, the Lion of Judah, has roared:

The grave could not hold Him; death is no more.

Islam’s rigid crescent demands every knee,

But we bow to the One who knelt at Gethsemane—

Whose blood bought redemption, whose stripes heal the scar,

Whose gospel of grace outshines every star.

Communism’s red idol, with envy enthroned,

Devours the fruitful, leaves fields overthrown.

Yet Christ is the Servant who washes our feet,

Who lifts up the lowly and makes the proud retreat.

Satanism’s mirror reflects only night,

Self twisted as god in its counterfeit light.

But at Jesus’ name every demon must flee—

The darkness dissolves in His sovereign decree.

Immorality’s flood, glittering, vile, and base,

Corrupts the pure spring and defiles sacred space.

Yet Christ is our holiness, Christ is our fire—

He fashions the fallen to temples of desire.

We war not with hatred but love from the Cross,

Not flesh against flesh, but the power of His loss.

Clad in His armor—truth, righteousness, shield—

We stand on the Word that the enemy yields.

Awake, Church of glory! Let revival ignite,

From sea unto sea in unquenchable light.

Teach children the Cross, the empty tomb’s song,

The blood that still cleanses, the hope ever strong.

No creed forged in conquest, no system of chains,

Can conquer the King who forever remains.

One nation under Christ, redeemed by His hand,

Restored by His mercy, made whole by His plan.

O Jesus, our Captain, our Shield, and our Sword,

Pour out Your Spirit as never before!

The darkness must tremble where saints take their stand—

For greater is He who indwells every land.

Lift high the Redeemer on mountain and stone:

“King Jesus is Lord—and His kingdom alone!”

The battle is won by the blood of the Lamb;

In Christ we are more than conquerors—

Amen.

Warriors For Christ And Our Country by Debbie Harris

14 Tuesday Jul 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Spiritual Warfare, The Absolute Evil Of Islam

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Poet’s Note

Dear Reader,

I wrote this not as a polished performance, but as a quiet call in a loud time. We live in days that feel heavy—faith mocked in public squares, liberty stretched thin, and a sense that something precious is slipping away. This poem is for those who still believe both the cross and the Constitution are worth defending, not with anger or violence, but with steady courage, clear eyes, and open hands.

It’s a reminder that being a warrior for Christ and country doesn’t require perfection or dramatic gestures. It asks for daily faithfulness: strong families, honest words, prayerful hearts, and a refusal to surrender truth for comfort. The fight is real, but the victory was already won on a hill outside Jerusalem two thousand years ago. We simply get to walk in it.

If these words stir something in you—resolve, hope, conviction—then carry them. Share them. Live them. The dawn really is breaking.

With respect and shared burden,

The Poet

Rise up, you faithful warriors, called by name,

Where shadows lengthen over heart and land.

For Christ, our risen King who overcame,

And for this country built on solid ground.

Not dressed in armor, swords, or battle gear—

But armed with truth, with courage, and with grace;

A quiet strength that cuts through doubt and fear,

A steady light no darkness can erase.

We stand where altars weaken and grow cold,

Where freedom’s voice is mocked or pushed aside.

We fight for hearts that once were brave and bold,

For rights that every soul is born with, not assigned.

The cross still rises over troubled seas—

A beacon strong through every shifting storm.

It calls us forward, bends the stubborn knee,

And whispers life where death once held its form.

No earthly king or crowd will ever save us.

Our hope is fixed on Jesus, strong and true.

Yet here we love this nation that He gave us—

Its laws, its promise, and its skies of blue.

We guard the Constitution’s guiding light,

The balance written down for all to see:

That power must be held in check, kept right,

So no one rules alone in tyranny.

With families strong as bedrock, churches bright,

With schools that teach what’s real and what is good,

We build again what time has tried to blight—

A living faith in every neighborhood.

We speak with clarity on streets and screens,

We vote, we serve, we pray through sleepless nights.

We meet the lies with honest, steady beams—

Not rage, but steady fire that burns with light.

This is our charge in these uncertain days:

To live as bridges between heaven and earth,

To stand for justice, mercy, righteous ways,

And prove that freedom still has sacred worth.

No easy road, no fleeting cheers or fame—

Just daily courage, rooted deep in grace.

For Christ our Savior and this country’s name,

We rise, we hold, we run this faithful race.

Warriors now—unshaken, unafraid—

The dawn is breaking. Lift your eyes and stand.

The King who conquered death has already won.

We walk in victory, hand in living hand.

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

09 Thursday Jul 2026

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

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Poet’s Note

Dear Reader,

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

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

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

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

—The Poet

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

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

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

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

On the suffering of Christians:

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

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

On the blood of martyrs:

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

On false teachings and killing in God’s name:

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

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

On spiritual battle:

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

On calling evil what it is:

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

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

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

Where faithful bones lie shattered beneath the scornful sun,

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

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

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

The ummah’s holy mandate rings with unrelenting hate—

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

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

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

Demands total submission, mercy’s name forever banned;

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

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

Churches blaze like beacons in the terror-haunted night,

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

Whole villages erased beneath the jihad’s savage might,

While Western silence cloaks the truth in diplomatic shame.

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

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

You breed the suicide bomber, train the child to glorify

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

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

A totalitarian hunger that history cannot deny;

From Nigeria’s bleeding heart to every frontier near,

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

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

Their voices rising heavenward through smoke and ash and pain:

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

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

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

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

The lament thunders louder—let every conscience know:

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

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

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

For evil unresisted spreads its consecrated flame,

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