In the Beginning God Created the Heaven and the Earth, Christ Created Creation’s Days with Light and Life and Worth by Debbie Harris

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In timeless void, the Voice of Heaven spoke,
And light from darkness tore the primal shroud,
A boundless gleam, creation’s first proud stroke,
The dawn of all, in glory unavowed.

The second day, the firmament arose,
A vaulted splendor, skies of azure hue,
The waters parted, as the deep repose,
A canopy of might came into view.

Day three, the seas receded at His call,
The earth unveiled her verdant, teeming frame,
While mountains soared, and forests crowned it all,
A world alive, to bear His holy name.

The fourth, with sun and moon in dance arrayed,
The stars like sentinels the night obeyed.

Day five, the waters sang with fin and wing,
The skies with flocks of every feather filled,
A symphony of life began to sing,
The pulse of being, wild and unfulfilled.

The sixth, from dust arose the beast and man,
A sovereign breath, the crown of His design,
To rule, to love, within His mighty plan,
A soul immortal, touched by the divine.

Then seventh came, the sabbath of His rest,
A hallowed pause, the cosmos stood complete,
In silence reigned the Maker manifest,
His triumph sung where earth and heaven meet.

The Lovely Light That Glows in Faith’s Enduring Frame by Debbie Harris

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When beauty blooms in art’s transcendent frame,
In lines of stone or threads of silken hue,
A society that bears the Savior’s name
Reflects His grace in all it seeks to do.
The arch that soars to kiss the heavens high,
The poet’s verse that stirs the soul to sing,
The melody where mortal voices cry—
These gifts of glory to our Christ we bring.
For beauty, pure, is more than eye’s delight,
A mirror of the Maker’s boundless heart,
A sign of souls aligned with holy light,
Where faith and craft refuse to dwell apart.
Through marble halls and music’s sacred sound,
We honor Him where beauty’s depths are found,
In woven cloth or words of tender care,
His truth shines forth, exquisite, rich, and rare.
So let us build with hands that seek His will,
Create with hearts that heaven’s breath instills,
That every work, from spire to whispered phrase,
Exalts His name through all our sacred days.

Heirs of the Divine, a Royal Line by Debbie Harris

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The privilege of grace, a crown unseen,
Bestowed upon the heart by love divine,
A royal birthright flows where faith has been,
To claim a place within the grand design.

No earthly throne could rival heaven’s call,
No gold outshine the promise of His reign,
A child of dust, yet heir to realms enthrall,
Through mercy’s gift, eternal joys remain.

The King of Kings extends His tender hand,
To lift the soul from shadows into light,
A lineage vast, beyond the mortal strand,
Unites the faithful in His boundless sight.

No greater honor shall the ages sing,
Than son or daughter to the eternal King.

I Am With You Even Until the End of the Age, A Vow Unbroken on This Mortal Stage by Debbie Harris

Through storm and shadow, where the wild winds wail,
A voice resounds, both tender and profound,
“For lo,” it speaks, “no distance shall prevail,
My steady hand in yours is ever found.”
The ages turn, the heavens shift and sway,
Yet still this vow endures beyond the skies,
A light to guide through dusk of fleeting day,
A flame unquenched in mortal hearts that rise.
When earth grows weary, crumbling to its end,
And stars dissolve in silence, vast and deep,
This pledge remains—my soul shall not transcend
Beyond your reach, nor break the watch I keep.
So fear no close, no boundless dark unfurled,
I’m with you always, to the end of world.

From Scarlet Sins to Heaven’s Chandelier by Debbie Harris

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Through gloom’s fierce grip, sins sear a scarlet flood,
A molten chain on hearts in torment bound,
Each scar a cry where shadows spill their blood,
A storm unleashed on souls in anguish drowned.
“Though sins be as scarlet,” Christ declares,
A snow-king’s might flows from His riven side,
Flakes gleam to purge those stains with Heaven’s chandelier,
“They are as white as snow,” His voice decides.
The ravaged earth bows to His holy stride,
Where guilt once burned, now drifts in triumph rise,
A victor’s veil, by pierced hands glorified,
Entombs all shame beneath His pure disguise.
His word, a throne, bids scarlet stains retreat,
Sins fade to snow through Christ’s redeeming feat.

Woman At The Well: The Gift Of Water Everlasting by Debbie Harris

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By ancient well beneath the noonday glare,
A woman bent to draw her daily share,
Her jar a burden, heart a shadowed vale,
Where whispered sins hung heavy in the air.
A stranger sat, his gaze both kind and deep,
And spoke of water living souls might keep—
No well could hold it, nor could stone confine,
A spring to cleanse where weary spirits sleep.
She marveled at his words, her past laid bare,
Yet found no judgment in his steady stare,
But grace that flowed beyond her tribe’s divide.
Through dust and doubt, truth blossomed then and there,
A stream eternal broke the heart inside,
And left her voice to echo far and wide.

Seven I Am’s: Bread, Light, Door, and Shepherd’s Reign, Life, Way, Vine to Free the Soul’s Refrain by Debbie Harris

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1. “Seven I Am’s: Bread to Feed the Soul’s Refrain”

The hunger gnaws at souls adrift, alone,
Yet here a bread descends from heaven’s store,
No crust to crumble, stale upon the stone,
But life itself to feed forevermore.
Through desert hearts where famine long held sway,
A sustenance beyond the fleeting grain,
He offers all who seek him, come what may,
A feast to banish want and heal the pain.
The world may offer husks to dull the need,
But this bread fills where mortal fare falls short,
A living gift for those who dare to feed,
A table set where grace and truth consort.
So souls redeemed arise, their hymn begun,
To sing of bread that makes the many one.


2. “Seven I Am’s: Light to Brighten Night’s Dark Stain”

In shadows deep, where blindness cloaks the day,
A radiance breaks to chase the night apart,
No torch of man, no fleeting, fickle ray,
But light eternal born to guide the heart.
Through gloom of sin, where stumbling feet despair,
He shines a path the darkened cannot see,
A beam to pierce the thickest, foulest air,
And call the lost to walk in liberty.
The world’s dim lanterns flicker, fade, and die,
Yet this light holds, unyielding to the storm,
A dawn for every weary, tear-stained eye,
A glow where souls redeemed find truest form.
Their praise ascends, a song of brilliance won,
For light has triumphed where the dark once spun.


3. “Seven I Am’s: Door Where Grace and Peace Remain”

The gate stands wide, no lock to bar the way,
A portal carved from mercy’s boundless frame,
Where wanderers lost in fields of disarray
May enter safe and call upon his name.
No wall too high, no thorn too sharp to bear,
For here the shepherd bids his flock draw near,
A passage free from peril’s lurking snare,
A haven wrought through love and not through fear.
The world builds doors of iron, cold and grim,
But this one swings with grace for every soul,
A threshold crossed by faith, not fleeting whim,
Where broken lives are mended, made whole.
Redeemed, they sing of entrance freely given,
A hymn to him whose death became their living.


4. “Seven I Am’s: Shepherd Guiding Through the Pain”

The flock lies scattered, torn by wolves of night,
Yet comes a shepherd, staff in hand, to lead,
His voice a balm to calm their panicked flight,
His life laid down to meet their deepest need.
Through valleys dark, where death’s own shadow falls,
He walks ahead, his care a steady guide,
No hireling he, who flees when danger calls,
But one who knows his own and stays beside.
The world’s false guides abandon at the cost,
But this good heart seeks out the bruised, the stray,
A love so vast it finds the fully lost,
And brings them home beneath the breaking day.
Their souls, redeemed, lift praise in tender strain,
For he who died now lives to guard their gain.


5. “Seven I Am’s: Life and Rising to Regain”

The tomb looms cold, a seal on hope’s last breath,
Yet here a voice declares the grave undone,
No end remains where he defies all death,
A rising dawn where night had thought it won.
Though tears may fall and shroud the heart in gloom,
He calls the dead to wake, the bound to stand,
A power vast to break the silent tomb,
A life renewed by his almighty hand.
The world sees dust and whispers all is lost,
But this truth sings through time’s unyielding strife,
A victory won beyond the final cost,
Where faith becomes the pulse of endless life.
Redeemed, they shout a hymn no death can still,
For he is risen, bending all to will.


6. “Seven I Am’s: Way and Truth to Break the Chain”

The road is rough, with forks to lead astray,
Yet here a way unfolds, both sure and straight,
No lie can twist its course, no doubt delay,
For truth itself has opened wide the gate.
Through mazes built by hands of frail design,
He carves a path where life eternal flows,
A compass clear, a word of grace divine,
To guide the soul where only mercy knows.
The world spins tales and trails that end in dust,
But this road holds, unwavering and free,
A life beyond what mortal minds can trust,
A truth to set the captive spirit free.
Their song ascends, redeemed by his decree,
A hymn to him who charts eternity.


7. “Seven I Am’s: Vine Where Faithful Hearts Attain”

The branches wither, cut from living root,
Yet here a vine extends its verdant hold,
To bear in barren hearts abundant fruit,
A sap of life through seasons harsh and cold.
He tends the growth, with care to prune and mend,
Each tendril bound to him in perfect peace,
No wild vine this, but one that grace defends,
Where love’s own yield shall never fade nor cease.
The world’s false stems may promise fleeting bloom,
But dry to ash beneath a hollow sun,
While this true source defies the drought of doom,
And knits the soul to God till all is one.
Redeemed, they sing, their voices intertwined,
A hymn of praise to him, the living vine.

A Living Hymn Of Praise: Blank Verse by Debbie Harris

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No finer hymn of praise exists on earth
Than that which rises from a soul redeemed.
Through shadows thick with grief, it finds its voice,
A quiet strength that echoes far beyond
The chains it broke, the weight it cast aside.
Each breath becomes a testament to grace,
A song not carved in stone but lived aloud,
Where once was silence, now a pulse of light.
The world may clamor with its hollow tunes,
But none can match the stillness of this joy,
A melody that flows from wounds made whole.

A Living Hymn Of Praise: Sonnet by Debbie Harris

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No finer hymn of praise can earth bestow
Than souls redeemed from shadows deep and dire,
Their voices lift where once they sank so low,
A living song to set the heart afire.
Through trials fierce, their spirits found release,
A grace unearned that broke the chains apart,
From silence born, their anthems never cease,
Each note a pulse of joy within the heart.
The world may sing with fleeting, shallow cheer,
But none can match this music’s holy strain,
A testament to mercy drawing near,
A melody forged strong through loss and pain.
So let the heavens hear their glad refrain,
For redeemed souls outshine the stars’ domain.

A Living Hymn Of Praise : Quatrain by Debbie Harris

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There is no finer hymn to raise,
A living song of joy supreme,
Than souls redeemed through darkened days,
Now shining bright in grace’s gleam