Category Archives: Thanksgiving

We Receive a Kingdom That Cannot Be Shaken: A Hymn of Reverence, Gratitude, and Eternal Victory by Debbie Harris

21 Friday Nov 2025

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

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Rooted in Hebrews 12:28, the poem celebrates the staggering gift of an eternal, unshakable kingdom that believers are already receiving amid a world that is crumbling. Earthly empires rise in smoke, their crowns and scepters shatter, mountains melt, and graves claim every merely human glory; yet God’s people stand secure on Mount Zion, the city that cannot be moved.

The cross itself becomes the guarantee: the slain Lamb now reigns, His wounds transformed into royal jewels, and every scar a proof that this kingdom is forever “shake-proof.” Because Christ has triumphed over sin and death, His people live in confident hope, wearing an unseen crown and bearing the weight of coming glory even now.

The poem moves from awe-filled reverence (falling before a holy God) to exultant victory (rising to serve the King of Kings with trembling joy). It ends with a final, defiant hallelujah: while hell despairs and death lies crushed, the redeemed lift their voices in worship, tasting already the wine of endless days in the one realm that no power can ever overthrow.

In short, it is a song of majesty, unbreakable hope, and ultimate victory for all who serve the Lamb who was slain—the eternal King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

(Hebrews 12:28)

Therefore, since we are receiving
a kingdom that cannot be shaken—
let us be thankful,
and so worship God acceptably
with reverence and awe.

We stand on ground that will not yield,
while thrones of earth dissolve like mist;
the fires may roar, the mountains slide,
yet here our footing keeps its tryst.
No earthquake moves the city’s wall,
no tempest tears its banners down—
for we have come to Zion’s hill
and wear the Victor’s hidden crown.

The smoke of empires climbs and fades,
their iron scepters snap like reeds;
but mercy built our fortress here
on promises that never bleed.
The Lamb once slain now wears the scars
as royal jewels upon His breast—
and every wound that bought our peace
has made His kingdom shake-proof, blest.

So lift your heads, you blood-bought host,
the night is gone, the dawn is sure;
the trumpet soon will split the sky
and call the heirs to what endures.
With reverence deep and holy fire
we fall, we rise, we kiss the rod—
then stand to serve with trembling joy
the King of Kings, the Lord our God.

Let angels hush, let hell despair,
let death itself lie crushed and still;
we bear the weight of glory now—
a kingdom no grave ever will.
Come, take the cup, come wear the crown,
come taste the wine of endless days—
for we have seen the throne that stands
when every other throne decays.

Hallelujah to the Lamb,
Hallelujah to the King—
forever reigns the unshaken realm
where hope and majesty take wing.
Amen.

In Awe of How God Provides for His Own by Debbie Harris

20 Thursday Nov 2025

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

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The poem is a lyrical meditation on the wonder of divine provision. Drawing from biblical images (sparrows, ravens and widows, manna, water from the rock, Daniel in the lions’ den, Shadrach and his friends in the furnace, Sarah’s laughter, restored lepers, multiplied loaves), it celebrates God’s miraculous, often extravagant care for His people.

It portrays a God who turns scarcity into abundance, danger into safety, and emptiness into overflowing grace. Nothing is wasted in His economy; even tears and lost years are redeemed. The tone is one of stunned gratitude before the “scandalous arithmetic” of a Provider who refuses to let His own go hungry, leaving the speaker (and reader) in speechless awe and worship.

The sparrow lifts on a wind it never earned,
wings tipped with light that was not its making;
it drinks from a puddle cupped in broken stone—
a chalice the storm forgot to shatter.

A widow counts two coins that should have been one,
yet the jar keeps breathing flour, the jug keeps bleeding oil;
the prophet’s raven drops bread like dark forgiveness
on a fugitive hiding from his own prayers.

Out of the cracked heart of a rock, water remembers
how to be generous;
manna falls like slow punctuation
in the long sentence of the wilderness.

Even the lions in their hunger learn restraint
when a man stands in their den humming psalms;
the fourth figure walks the furnace, unconsumed,
cooling the flames with the hem of mercy.

See the childless womb that suddenly laughs,
the prisoner whose chains fall off like old skin,
the leper who reaches, and instead of losing a hand
finds it wrapped in new flesh.

Nothing is wasted—
not the five loaves, not the tears, not the years eaten by locusts.
He keeps every sparrow in a ledger of love
and every hair numbered like stars in a private sky.

So we stand, beggars who wake up rich,
carrying empty cups that keep overflowing,
stunned into worship by the scandalous arithmetic
of a God who will not let His own go hungry.

Amen.

From Dawn to Evermore: All Glory to Father, Savior, and Holy Spirit by Debbie Harris

15 Saturday Nov 2025

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

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The poem is a lyrical hymn of praise to the Holy Trinity—Father, Savior (Jesus), and Holy Spirit—celebrating their roles in creation, redemption, and sanctification.

  • Father: The architect of the cosmos, awakening the world with mountains, rivers, and leaves as living worship.
  • Savior: The merciful redeemer who heals wounds, transforms despair into joy, and turns death into life.
  • Holy Spirit: The dynamic presence igniting faith, comforting the broken, and turning human breath into sacred space.

It glorifies God for everyday miracles (birth, laughter, sparrows) and cosmic wonders (galaxies, the cross), uniting all gratitude in an eternal “all glory” that echoes from darkness to light, now and forever.

In the hush before dawn, when silence is a prayer,
Father, You breathe the world awake—
mountains rise like altars,
rivers carve psalms through stone,
every leaf a green tongue lifted in praise.

Savior, You walk the wounded roads we bleed upon,
hands scarred with mercy,
turning water to wine,
graves to gardens,
our ashes into alleluias.

Holy Spirit, wild dove,
You hover over chaos,
kindling tongues of fire in ordinary hearts,
whispering wind through the ribs of the broken,
making cathedrals of breath.

For the first cry of a child,
for the last sigh of the dying,
for the laugh that splits sorrow in two—
all glory.

For galaxies spun like silk from Your fingers,
for the sparrow that falls and is caught,
for the cross that shouldered our night—
all glory.

For every amen ever sighed in the dark,
for every hallelujah shouted in the light,
for the triune heartbeat beneath all things—
all glory,
forever and ever,
world without end.

Every Breath a Sacred Loan, Every Day a Divine Canvas, Every Talent a Spark from Eternity, Every Blessing a Whisper of God’s Love by Debbie Harris

15 Saturday Nov 2025

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, easter, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Praise, Thanksgiving

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It traces life’s essentials—breath, daylight, innate abilities, and unearned mercies—back to their singular Source, portraying each as a temporary loan rather than a possession.
Through vivid metaphors of ribboned gifts, painted canvases, kindled sparks, and whispered love, it builds a rhythmic litany of dependence and wonder.
The closing turns the reader’s own exhale into an act of worship, sealing the cycle: all from God, all to God, amen.

Dawn cracks open like a gift unwrapped—
each breath a ribbon pulled from God’s own hand.
The lungs expand, a quiet miracle,
no coin can buy the air that fills the span
between the heart’s soft drum and silence.

The day arrives, unearned, a canvas wide,
painted in gold before the eye can blink.
Sunlight spills across the waking world,
a signature no mortal pen could ink—
time borrowed, not owned, yet freely given.

Talent wakes inside the fingers, tongue,
a spark that leaps from thought to crafted form:
the singer’s note, the builder’s steady rung,
the poet’s line that shelters in the storm.
None self-made; all on loan from the Source.

Blessings fall like rain on parched ground—
health to rise, love to hold, bread to break.
The child’s laugh, the friend’s unspoken sound,
the grace that mends what we ourselves forsake.
Every drop traced back to the same sky.

So let the exhale carry thanks, not pride;
let every gifted day be lived aware
that breath, light, skill, and mercy coincide
in one continuous prayer.
From God they come.
To God return.
Amen.

A Thanksgiving Prayer To Our Triune God by Debbie Harris

10 Monday Nov 2025

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Thanksgiving

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This poem is a lyrical prayer of gratitude addressed to the Triune God—Father, Son (Jesus), and Holy Spirit—celebrating God’s abundant provision and presence. Structured in five stanzas, it weaves agricultural imagery (harvest, wheat, grapes) with theological depth to express thanks for both physical and spiritual blessings.

  • Stanza 1 (Father): Thanks God the Father for creation’s bounty—dawn, rain, and the harvest—symbolizing His generous provision.
  • Stanza 2 (Son): Thanks Jesus as the Vine and broken bread, linking the Lord’s Supper to redemption and life from death.
  • Stanza 3 (Spirit): Thanks the Holy Spirit as wind and fire, for inner renewal and the warmth of faith.
  • Stanza 4 (Trinity): Praises the unified Three-in-One God as eternal Light, giver of breath, sight, and enduring love.
  • Stanza 5 (Response): Overwhelmed by gratitude (“so much to be thankful for”), the speaker offers imperfect words as worship to the King.

Core Theme: Profound thanksgiving for material and eternal gifts, rooted in the distinct yet united persons of the Trinity, culminating in joyful praise.

Father of mercies, whose open hand
spills dawn across the stubbled land,
we thank You for the furrow’s yield,
for wheat that bows, for rain that healed.

Jesus, the Vine, whose blood runs red
in every grape the harvesters tread,
we thank You for the table spread,
for broken bread that raises dead.

Spirit, wild Wind, who fans the flame
in every heart that speaks His name,
we thank You for the kindled coal
that warms the marrow of the soul.

Three Persons, one unshadowed Light,
You hold the day, You hold the night;
for breath, for sight, for love that stays,
we lift this triune hymn of praise.

So much to thank You for—too much
for any tongue, yet every crutch
of word we lean on bends and sings:
all glory to the King of kings.