From Glory to Glory: The Royally Redeemed Rise by Debbie Harrid

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(Not from Condemnation, Shame, or the Enemy’s Belittling Voice, but in the Triumphant Light of the Lamb)

A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

This poem was born in the quiet tension between two voices: the condemning roar of the world and the enemy, and the triumphant whisper of heaven. In a culture quick to shame, belittle, and reduce us to our worst moments, I wanted to lift high the biblical truth that the redeemed do not rise from condemnation—they rise from glory to glory (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Our identity is not forged in the fires of accusation but in the finished work of the Lamb. We are royally adopted, crowned before we ever conquered, clothed in righteousness before we ever proved ourselves worthy. The poem sings of that royal ascent: not a reluctant climb out of darkness, but an ever-brightening flight deeper into the light we already possess in Christ.

My prayer is that these words would silence the serpent’s hiss in your ears and awaken the song of the redeemed in your spirit. You are not defined by what the world calls you. You are defined by the One who calls you “Mine.”

May you rise,

From glory to glory,

Ever held, ever crowned,

Ever free.

With joy and holy confidence,

The Poet

2 Corinthians 3:18

But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.

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.

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

And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, and the first begotten of the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth. 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.

Ephesians 2:6

And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.

Romans 8:15-17

For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ.

Isaiah 61:3

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.

Hebrews 12:2

Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Revelation 5:9-10

And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation; And hast made us unto our God kings and priests: and we shall reign on the earth.

2 Corinthians 5:17

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

From glory to glory the royally redeemed arise,

Like mountains crowned in uncreated light,

Where morning spills its molten gold across the skies

And every shadow bows and takes its flight.

Not dragged from dungeons of the serpent’s shame,

Not whipped by tongues that hiss “unworthy, stained,”—

They mount on eagle wings of holy flame,

Where thunder learns their names and tempests wane.

Behold their crowns: forged from the Lamb’s own scars,

Each jewel a wound that bled eternal grace;

Their robes, the whiteness of uncounted stars,

Woven from tears the Savior kissed from every face.

They walk on seas that once roared chains and night,

Now polished glass beneath their kingly stride;

The Accuser’s ink dissolves in heaven’s light—

A living scroll where endless glory is inscribed.

O sing, you ransomed ones, let galaxies resound!

The enemy’s pale venom cannot mar

The radiance the Father’s smile has crowned—

From glory into glory, star by star.

Arise, bright heirs, in splendor unrestrained,

Like lilies blazing through the frost’s white tomb;

The King who whispers “Mine” has you sustained—

From glory unto glory, ever bloom.

The Glorious And Victorious Gift Of Imputed Righteousness by Debbie Harris

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Dear Reader,

From the quiet hours where only truth and Scripture speak, I write to you.

We possess no righteousness of our own. Not one of us. From the first Adam to the last soul breathing today, every heart is bent, every deed stained, and every attempt at goodness falls short before the perfect holiness of God. The law reveals what we cannot do; the prophets declare what we cannot be. Our best efforts are as filthy rags, and our deepest virtues cannot atone for even a single transgression.

This is why our only hope, our only boast, is Jesus Christ.

He who knew no sin became sin for us. He lived the flawless life the law demanded, then bore its full curse in our place upon the cross. There, the sinless One absorbed the wrath we deserved so that, by simple faith, His perfect righteousness could be credited to us. Not earned. Not achieved. Imputed. Freely given. Reckoned to every sinner who trusts in Him alone.

Therefore, the redeemed no longer look within for merit. We look to Christ. Our standing before God is not based on what we have done, but on what He has done. We are clothed in His obedience, washed in His blood, and accepted in the Beloved. This is the glorious exchange of the gospel: our guilt for His goodness, our shame for His glory.

Let all self-boasting fall silent. Let every tongue confess that our righteousness is Christ Himself — the Lord our Righteousness. In Him we stand complete, justified, and secure, not because we are worthy, but because He is.This is our confidence. This is our song.

With solemn joy and reverence,
The Poet

Here are the KJV verses that form the foundation:

Romans 3:10-11
There is none righteous, no, not one: There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God.

Isaiah 64:6
But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.

Romans 3:20
Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight.

Galatians 3:10
Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them.

2 Corinthians 5:21
For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.

Romans 3:22
Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe.

Romans 4:3
Abraham believed God, and it was counted unto him for righteousness.

1 Corinthians 1:30-31
But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption: That, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.

Jeremiah 23:6
This is his name whereby he shall be called, THE LORD OUR RIGHTEOUSNESS.

No son of Adam owns a thread
Of righteousness to veil his shame;
The heart is bent, the will is dead,
And every tongue is mute to claim
A single deed that heaven will own.
As it is written, none is just—
All turned aside, all overthrown,
And filthy rags are all their trust.

The law, a blaze of holy fire,
Demands perfection none can bring;
It searches thought and deep desire
And leaves the sinner stripped of wing.
From Eden’s gate to Sinai’s stone,
The sentence thunders, sharp and clear:
“Cursed is the man who fails in one”—
And every man has failed, stands bare.

Yet God, before the worlds were framed,
Beheld the ruin of our race
And gave His Son, the Second Adam,
To run the course we could not face.
Christ lived the life the law required,
Fulfilled its every righteous claim;
Then, lifted high, the Lamb expired,
Bearing our curse, absorbing blame.

O matchless grace! The sinless One
Was made our sin on cursed wood;
That we, through faith in God’s own Son,
Might stand in Him as righteous, good.
Not by our works, but by His merit,
The Father counts us justified;
Imputes to us His Spirit’s credit—
The very righteousness of Christ.

Now robed in garments not our own,
The redeemed lift no boast apart;
Their glory is the cross alone,
The wounds that healed the sinner’s heart.
In Jesus Christ they stand complete,
Accepted in the Beloved’s face;
No flesh may glory in the street,
But only in the Lord’s embrace.

This is the everlasting song
Of every soul whom grace has won:
“Our boast is Christ, and Christ alone—
The Lord our Righteousness, the Son.”
From first to last, from death to life,
All praise ascends through Him alone;
Imputed, sealed, secured by strife—
The Triune God upon the throne.

Warriors For Christ And Our Country by Debbie Harris

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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.

A Servant’s Prayer by Debbie Harris

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From the Poet

Dear Reader,

Have you ever wanted to be great for God?


Not the world’s loud, glittering kind of great — but the kind that lasts forever? The kind that echoes in heaven? This prayer-poem was born from that very longing. It is a quiet cry of the heart: Lord, make me a servant… then I will be great for Thee.

May it stir the same desire in you.

Lord, break my pride with gentle hands,
Strip every crown I’ve tried to claim;
Teach me to kneel where no one stands,
And serve unseen, without a name.

Let me wash feet with quiet grace,
Carry the cross that others flee;
In lowly dust find heaven’s place —
For only here am I truly free.

No trumpet sound, no golden throne,
No seeking praise from mortal breath;
Just open hands, a heart of stone
Now softened by Your perfect love.

Then, in Your eyes, let greatness rise —
Not as the world would crown its kings,
But as a servant’s low disguise
That wears the glory heaven sings.

So mold me, Lord, till I resemble
The One who stooped to serve and save;
A living light, humble and simple —
In serving You, my soul is brave.

Make me a servant, pure and true,
Then I shall be great… for Thee.


Amen.

Guard Thy Tongue, O Pilgrim, for Every Word Shall Be Judged — by Debbie Harris

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

In these troubled days when words wound more swiftly than swords, and “It’s only talk” has become the easy excuse of many, I felt compelled to sound a solemn alarm. May this poem stir every heart — especially those who name the name of Christ — to weigh our words before the Lord. Life and death truly hang in the balance of the tongue.

Let this not be mistaken: contending earnestly for the faith and calling sin sin is not the same as careless cruelty, false accusation, or slander. We are called to speak truth in love, with reverence and accountability, never with malice.

With prayer and trembling,

The Poet

Proverbs 18:21

Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.

Matthew 12:36-37

But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment. For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.

James 3:5-6

Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth! And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell.

James 3:8-10

But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be.

Ephesians 4:29

Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.

Proverbs 21:23

Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue keepeth his soul from troubles.

Proverbs 15:1

A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

Ephesians 4:15

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

Colossians 4:6

Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.

In every word we breathe, a solemn weight is laid,

For heaven marks each syllable our mortal tongues have made.

The tongue, a spark that kindles flame or bids the storm to cease,

Holds life and death within its sway, as Scripture doth release.

O pause, frail heart, before the rush of hasty speech takes flight!

Let wisdom’s bridle check the lip ere anger claims the night.

For idle words and cruel darts shall echo through the years,

When every careless murmur meets the Judge who knows our fears.

Yet in this shadowed age we dwell, where brethren turn to foes,

False tongues accuse the righteous ones with slander’s venomous blows.

“‘Tis only talk,” they lightly say, and shrug with careless grin,

While hearts are slain and names are slain by words that rot within.

They treat the warning with a jest, dismiss the solemn call,

As though the tongue could wound unchecked and Heaven’s gaze appall.

Among the called who bear His name, the poison spreads unchecked,

Where envy masks as zeal, and love lies cold and derelict.

Lord, have mercy on us all who stumble in this fray!

Bring every Christian to their knees, in dust and tears to pray.

Forgive the wounds our words have wrought, the breaches we have torn,

And turn our hearts from bitterness to grace anew reborn.

The more we walk as Christ hath walked, in meekness, truth, and light,

The fiercer grow the arrows shot from shadows in the night.

For darkness hates the shining soul that mirrors Heaven’s Son,

And tests the pure with cruel barbs till victory is won.

Then guard thy tongue, O pilgrim soul, with holy fear and fire,

Let every word be forged in prayer, a weapon of desire.

No poison pass these lips again, no arrow winged in wrath—

But life eternal flow instead, upon the narrow path.

Stand fast, O saint, though slander rage and hatred’s tempest roar,

The King who sees thy silent tears shall vindicate thee more.

For every idle word we speak, though whispered, shouted, hurled,

Shall meet us on that Judgment Day—we give account to God Himself.

Let every word that leaves our lips before the Judge be weighed,

All men shall give account thereof on that great Day of wrath—

Though arrows fly and darkness rails against the Christ-like soul,

Yet guard thy tongue, O pilgrim, till the final trumpet roll.

For every word that we have breathed, both cruel and kind alike,

We all shall answer on that Day before the throne of light.

No idle breath escapes His gaze, though light or fiercely thrown—

We all shall give account thereof before the Judgment Throne.

Lord, have mercy. Purify us now. Amen.

Bless the Lord, O My Soul: Forget Not All His Benefits — Psalm 103:2 by Debbie Harris

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Poet’s Note

Dear Reader,

This poem was born from the stirring words of Charles Spurgeon and the timeless call of Psalm 103:2 — “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.”

In a world that so quickly forgets, I wanted to remind both you and myself that the God of Abraham, Moses, and David is not a distant figure confined to ancient pages. He is powerfully present in your story — in the rivers you have crossed, the fires you have walked through, the quiet provisions that arrived at just the right moment, and the still waters that have refreshed your weary soul.

May these lines stir your heart to look back with gratitude, to look up with worship, and to look forward with confident hope. The same faithful hand that guided the saints of old is writing beauty into your life today.

Take a moment. Remember. Give thanks. And then join the song.

Forget not all His benefits.

With joy and reverence,

The Poet

O my soul, arise and bless the Lord,

Forget not all His gifts, both great and small;

The ancient tales of mercy we have heard—

Yet ours are written on these hearts as well.

We trace His hand on Abraham’s road,

On Moses by the sea, on David’s throne;

But turn thine eyes upon thy own abode—

The self-same God walks with thee, not alone.

Hast thou not crossed the river, held on high?

Hast thou not passed through fire and felt no flame?

Hast thou not heard His whisper, “It is I,”

When waves rose fierce and fear laid claim?

The God who gave to Solomon his plea,

Who filled the mouth of David with delight,

Hath stooped to thee in thine infirmity

And satisfied thy soul with hidden light.

He makes thee lie in pastures ever green,

Leads by still waters where thy thirst is quenched;

Each dawn a mercy fresh and unforeseen,

Each trial turned to treasure, grace untrenched.

Then weave these mercies into crowns of gold,

Set jewels of thanksgiving in their place;

Let praise like David’s harp, both strong and bold,

Rise sweet and high before the Saviour’s face.

For He who wrought for saints of olden days

Still bares His arm and shows His strength anew;

His mercy, like the morning, never decays—

Eternal, boundless, ever fresh and true.

O my soul, bless the Lord with all thy breath,

And sing until the heavens catch the strain:

“His goodness follows me through life and death—

Forget Him not; exalt His matchless name!”

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

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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.

Be Our Shield and Hiding Place by Debbie Harris

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These words were born in the quiet ache of watching cruelty rise like a flood in our day—tears falling, reputations shattered, hearts hardened. Yet in the midst of it, I remembered the tender heart of God, who stores every tear in His bottle and calls us to be His hands of kindness in a world grown cold. May this poem be both a lament and a lifting up. Hide yourself in Him, the Shield and Hiding Place.

With prayer and hope,

The Poet

These verses affirm that God sees every hurt, hates all forms of cruelty, calls us to tenderness, and stands as our Shield and Hiding Place. Hide His Word in your heart, dear reader.

God Stores Every Tear

Psalm 56:8

Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?

God Hates Cruelty, Evil Words & Deeds

Proverbs 6:16-19

These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.

Psalm 11:5

The LORD trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth.

Ephesians 4:29, 31-32

Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying… Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

Immorality Is Cruelty to Self

1 Corinthians 6:18

Flee fornication. Every sin that a man doeth is without the body; but he that committeth fornication sinneth against his own body.

1 Corinthians 6:19-20

What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own? For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body…

Swearing & Misuse of God’s Name

Exodus 20:7

Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain; for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.

Hate Is Murder

1 John 3:15

Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer: and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him.

Matthew 5:21-22

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill… But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment…

God as Shield and Hiding Place

Psalm 18:2

The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.

Psalm 32:7

Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance.

Psalm 91:4

He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

Psalm 27:5

For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a rock.

Protection in Days Like Noah & Sodom

Matthew 24:37-39

But as the days of Noe were, so shall also the coming of the Son of man be. For as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage… until the flood came, and took them all away.

Luke 17:28-30

Likewise also as it was in the days of Lot… Even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.

2 Timothy 3:12-13

Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution. But evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived.

Psalm 37:39-40

But the salvation of the righteous is of the LORD: he is their strength in the time of trouble. And the LORD shall help them, and deliver them…

O Lord, who gathers every tear

And stores them in Your bottle clear,

You see the wounds no eye can trace—

The shattered hearts, the silent fears.

You hate all cruelty with holy fire,

Each cutting word, each lifted spear

That tears down souls and ruins names,

That steals promotion, hope, and fame.

Be ye tender, gentle as the dove,

Kind in spirit, rooted in Your love.

For immorality wounds the self alone,

Swearing pierces Heaven’s throne.

Hate is murder in the secret place,

Yet You, O God, are full of grace.

In Sodom’s streets and Noah’s days,

When evil swells and darkness plays—

Rise up, Your people, shield each other!

Protect the weak, defend the brother.

Let tender hands and truthful tongues

Heal what the cruel have left undone.

You are our Shield in battle’s roar,

Our Hiding Place forevermore.

Beneath Your wings we find release,

Your mercy covers cruelty’s increase.

When tears overflow and sorrows swell,

You count them all and know them well.

No broken reed You cast away—

You lift the crushed at break of day.

Oh Lord, in this age of rising night,

Be our fortress, our guiding light.

Guard Your own with jealous care,

Till cruelty flees and love fills the air.

We hide in You, our Rock, our Stay,

Until the cruel storm has passed away.

Amen.

Just as if I Never Sinned by Debbie Harris

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Dear Reader,

From the Poet —

If these lines find you weary, burdened, or simply longing, know this: the gospel I have tried to capture here is not mere poetry — it is living truth. When the Holy Spirit unveils the glory of full forgiveness and Christ’s imputed righteousness, the heart cannot stay silent. I wrote this in awe, with tears, that you too might taste the same wonder: every sin — past, present, and future — nailed to His cross, and in their place, His perfect record counted as yours.

May these words lift your eyes to Jesus, stir holy tears, and kindle fresh worship. He is worthy.

With reverence and joy,

The Poet

• Colossians 2:13-14 — “And you, being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, hath he quickened together with him, having forgiven you all trespasses; Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross.”

• Hebrews 10:14, 17 — “For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified… And their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.”

• Isaiah 43:25 — “I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.”

• Micah 7:19 — “He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.”

Imputed Righteousness of Christ

• 2 Corinthians 5:21 — “For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.”

• Romans 4:5-6 — “But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness. Even as David also describeth the blessedness of the man, unto whom God imputeth righteousness without works.”

• Romans 5:19 — “For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.”

• Philippians 3:9 — “And be found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.”

Just as if I Never Sinned (No Condemnation)

• Romans 8:1 — “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.”

• Psalm 103:12 — “As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.”

Surpassing Worth of This Grace

• Philippians 3:7-8 — “But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.”

• Matthew 13:45-46 — “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: Who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.

When blinding light at last breaks through

And every sin—past, present, new—

Lies cancelled in the crimson flood,

Submerged forever in His blood,

Then bursts the soul in speechless awe:

All guilt erased by sovereign law!

Imputed righteousness divine—

Not earned, but counted wholly mine!

The spotless record of the Son

Becomes my own, and I am one

With Him who bore my curse and shame,

Now robed in glory as His name.

Just as if I never sinned,

I stand accepted, reconciled within.

O doctrinal diamond, pure and bright,

More radiant than the noonday light,

Outvaluing the gathered gold

Of empires old and worlds untold—

This single gem of grace supreme

Outweighs the universe’s dream.

My eyes dissolve in holy tears;

My knees sink low, my spirit hears

The whisper of redeeming love

That lifts the guilty far above

All thrones and powers, all earthly boast,

To rest in Christ, in Him engrossed.

I weep, I worship, I adore

The Lamb once slain, now evermore

Enthroned in majesty and grace,

Whose every breath bids mercy blaze.

What tongue can tell, what heart conceive

The riches I in Him receive?

Take all the world—its fleeting store—

I count it loss forevermore.

For this: to know my sins are gone,

And Christ’s own beauty called my own—

This is the pearl of greatest price,

The fountain of eternal life.

Jesus, my Lord, my All in All,

Upon Thy name I gladly fall;

And till I see Thee face to face,

Let every breath proclaim Thy grace:

“Worthy the Lamb who took my place!”

Amen and Amen.

Come, Walk with Me Through the Garden of the Holy Word of Our Precious Triune God by Debbie Harris

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Poet’s Note

Dear Reader,

May we all walk through the garden of the Holy Word of our precious Triune God!

This poem was born as an invitation—an open gate into a living garden where every flower whispers truth about our great and gracious God. Each bloom was chosen with care to reflect a precious doctrine of the Christian faith, so that as you stroll through the verses, your heart might be lifted, your mind renewed, and your spirit drawn closer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Whether you read it slowly in quiet devotion, aloud with others, or return to it again and again, my prayer is that these lines become a gentle path of worship for you. The garden is not mine; it belongs to Him. I simply scattered a few seeds and rejoiced to watch them grow.

May the Triune God who walks with you in this garden also walk with you through every season of life—until we meet at last in the eternal garden where every flower is fully open and every promise is fully kept.

With joy and blessing,

A fellow pilgrim in the garden

Come, walk with me through the garden fair

Of the Holy Word, our Triune God’s own care—

Where Father’s breath awakens every leaf,

Son’s footsteps trace the path of grace and grief.

The Iris lifts her threefold face in light,

Trinity in unity and might:

One stem, three petals, heaven’s colors blend,

Eternal love that knows no beginning, end.

The Lily pure unfurls her trumpet white,

Incarnation—God with us, the Light;

Spotless, radiant in the morning dew,

Emmanuel, forever faithful, true.

The Rose of Sharon breathes her crimson scent,

Atonement—blood that covers and redeems our bent;

Thorns and beauty in one blossom grown,

Redeeming fragrance rising from the throne.

Low Violets kneel humbly on the ground,

Justification—by faith alone we’re found;

Clothed in His righteousness, no more condemned,

Adopted, cherished, called the Father’s friend.

Soft Lavender releases holy air,

Sanctification—making pure what once was bare;

Refined by Spirit’s gentle, cleansing flame,

Conformed to Christ, we bear His very name.

The Daffodil breaks winter’s silent tomb,

Resurrection—life that conquers doom;

Firstfruits of glory rising from the grave,

Victorious King who ever lives to save.

Bright Morning Glory climbs the garden wall,

Second Coming—hope that claims us all;

Petals open to the promised dawn,

“Behold, I come!”—the Bridegroom’s trumpet drawn.

And faithful Forget-me-nots in azure line the way,

Eternal Life—where night becomes bright day;

Sealed by the Spirit, kept by grace divine,

Safe in the Father’s house, forever Thine.

Come, linger here where veil and glory meet,

Where light and shadow in sweet worship greet,

And hear the Triune Voice call forth your name:

“Beloved child, arise—the garden is your claim.”