For Such a Time as This: Christ’s Mighty Hand Delivers Iran Through Israel and the United States by Debbie Harris

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In the ancient lands where prophets once spoke God’s word,
Persia—now Iran—groaned under demonic chains,
A regime of darkness, veiling truth, oppressing souls,
Mocking the Creator with its iron-fisted reign.
Yet the Lord who parted seas and toppled walls of old
Has not forgotten His covenant, nor His chosen kin.
He raises up nations under God, instruments of His will,
To shatter the yoke and let the captives begin again.

Behold Israel, the apple of His eye, steadfast and true,
Guarded by the Almighty through fire and through sword.
And the United States, a beacon once lit by faith’s pure flame—
One nation under God, indivisible, trusting in the Lord.
Through His mighty power these allies have struck as one,
In righteous fury against the tyrants who defied His name.
The supreme leader falls, the clerical fortress crumbles low,
As missiles of justice rain from skies ordained by Heaven’s claim.

No mere mortal scheme, but divine orchestration clear:
The Lion of Judah roars through Israel’s valiant stand,
While America’s eagles soar on wings of providential might,
Delivering blows that echo the Lord’s redeeming hand.
The devils flee in terror, their thrones cast to the dust,
Their false paradise exposed as a pit of endless night.
For where the Spirit of Christ moves, strongholds must yield—
Liberty bursts forth in the blaze of eternal light.

O Iran, ancient cradle of the Magi who sought the King,
Your people rise now, called by the Savior’s voice so near.
The house churches multiply, prayers ascend like incense pure,
As millions turn to Jesus, casting off every fear.
The women unveil in freedom, the youth proclaim His name,
The oppressed find refuge in the arms of the Lamb who was slain.
Through Israel’s courage and America’s faithful resolve,
God has wrought deliverance—His power alone sustains.

Praise the Lord of Hosts, who humbles the proud and lifts the meek!
He uses nations under God to fulfill His holy decree.
The regime of terror lies broken, its demonic grip undone,
For Christ reigns supreme—victory belongs to Thee.
From Tehran to the mountains, let every tongue confess:
Jesus is Lord, the true Liberator, forever blessed.
Israel and America, blessed instruments in His plan,
Have seen His mighty power deliver a captive land.

Hallelujah! The dawn has broken, the chains are no more.
In Christ’s name alone, true freedom forevermore.

Faithfully Use What God Has Given Youby Debbie Harris

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Occupy till I come.

— Luke 19:13 (KJV)

When shadows lengthen and the world doth quake,
With rumour’d signs that bid the heart to fear,
Some watch with fevered gaze, lest they should wake
Unready at the trumpet none may hear.
Yet He who hung upon the accursèd tree
And cried, ” ‘Tis finish’d!” in His dying breath,
Hath wrought complete what none could do but He—
Our pardon, peace, our victory o’er death.

No more we toil to earn what grace hath giv’n,
Nor cower ‘neath the weight of coming doom;
In Him we stand accepted, sons of heav’n,
Secure within the veil, beyond the tomb.
Thus bids the Master, ere He took His flight:
“Occupy till I come”—with labour bright.

Steward the mina, multiply the gift,
Not fearing loss, but flowing from His life;
Build, love, disciple—let thy spirit lift
The fallen, point them to the risen Christ.
No anxious vigil mars the soul set free;
The cross hath seal’d our place eternally.

Then let the tempests roar, the nations rage,
The days grow dark with portent of the end—
Our hope is blessèd, not a fearful stage,
But glory’s dawn where every tear shall mend.
Till then, abide in labour sweet and sure:
The King returns—yet we are His, secure.

In quiet trust, occupy the given field,
With joy unbound, for grace hath all reveal’d.

No More the Chain of Guilt Shall Bind: Rest Secure in Love’s Accomplished Deed by Debbie Harris

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Each morn I rise, the heart at rest profound,
No chain of doubt to bind the soul in thrall;
For Christ hath loosed me, freedom fully found,
By blood outpoured—accomplished once for all.

The faithful Witness stands, His word is true,
Though feelings shift like shadows on the sea;
He loves me now, as ever loves He you,
In present grace, unchanging, wild, and free.

No down payment was Calvary’s dark tree—
The cross a full discharge, the debt repaid;
“He has freed us,” rings the ancient decree,
The Lamb’s own blood our pardon hath displayed.

No striving now to hold what grace bestows,
No fragile peace that wavers with the day;
His finished work in crimson torrent flows,
And washes guilt forevermore away.

Let accusations old attempt their cry,
Let memory replay its shadowed art;
The blood speaks louder from the throne on high:
“Done!”—and seals the ransomed, contrite heart.

O rest, beloved, in this secure abode,
Where love endures and faithfulness abides;
The work is over, paid by sacred blood,
And peace like rivers through the spirit glides.

Shake It Off into the Flames: The Viper’s Strike as Proof of Promotion, Not Punishment by Debbie Harris

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Summary of the Core Message

When spiritual fire rises—through deeper obedience, anointing, promotion, or God’s increasing presence—hidden opposition surfaces. Like the viper in Acts 28 that struck Paul only after he fed the fire on Malta, snakes (betrayals, sudden attacks, unfounded accusations, resistance from people who once seemed neutral) were already near, just dormant in cooler seasons.

They don’t appear because you’re failing or sinning; they manifest because you’re advancing. The same heat that strengthens and refines you disturbs what once tolerated your lower walk. Exposure isn’t punishment—it’s confirmation of progress and authority.

Paul didn’t panic, lower the fire, or retreat. He shook the viper off into the flames and kept serving; the islanders watched death turn into testimony.

The exhortation:

  • Don’t dim the blaze to keep snakes comfortable.
  • Don’t mistake intensified opposition for defeat.
  • Shake it off. Let the fire consume what can’t endure it.
  • Gather more wood. Feed the flame. Keep moving forward.

You were made for this temperature. The rising heat is holy—and what strikes you only proves what lives in you.

Don’t flinch when serpents slide into the light—
they coiled in darkness, patient through the night.
Not called by your hand, nor born of your sin;
the flame just grew hotter—and woke what was in.

Paul gathered dry sticks on Malta’s cold shore,
fed the fire humbly, asked nothing more.
Heat climbed, wood cracked, and out came the foe—
a viper struck swift, but death would not grow.

The islanders stared, expecting the fall,
the swell and the stagger that comes to us all.
Yet Paul shook it off, flung it back to the blaze;
the poison hissed once, then vanished in haze.

So when friends turn foes with no cause you can trace,
when lies rise like smoke to accuse and deface,
when attacks hit harder the moment you rise—
it’s not failure arriving; it’s heat in disguise.

The snakes never vanished; they just stayed concealed
till the fire of glory made shadows revealed.
They tolerated coolness, your quieter days,
but advancement brings heat—and exposes their ways.

Don’t dim the blaze down to cradle their peace;
don’t quench what God kindles for fear of release.
Exposure’s no curse; it’s the proof you’ve advanced—
the anointing now burns where the timid once danced.

Strike came in service, not slothful delay;
fangs bite the movers, the ones on their way.
So shake off the venom, let it curl in the flame—
what rises against you just honors your name.

Gather more fuel. Feed the fire. Stand tall.
The island is watching. Let miracles call.
The heat is your forge, not your funeral pyre—
you were made for this blaze, and the blaze for the fire.

Morning’s First Hymn – A Small Bird’s Anthem to the One Who Made All Things by Debbie Harris

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The poem opens with a serene depiction of early morning: soft golden light spreading over hills as the world awakens in quiet beauty. High in the tallest tree, a small bird perches and begins to sing—not out of need or sorrow, but in pure, unburdened joy. Its clear, trembling notes rise like a hymn, praising the Creator who gave it wings, voice, and life.The bird becomes a living emblem of effortless gratitude and worship: free of worldly cares, it simply offers song to the One who made it. The speaker is moved by this tiny, radiant creature and gently longs for the same simplicity in human hearts. We, too often weighed down by worry or distraction, are invited to learn from the bird—to rise with the dawn, open our souls, and lift our own praise to our Creator with the same natural, wholehearted delight.In essence, the poem is a tender meditation on gratitude, worship, and emulation: the bird’s morning song reveals a model of how we might live—awake to beauty, unencumbered by complaint, and continually singing back to God in response to His gift of life and wonder.

In the hush of dawn, when the world lies still,
Golden light spills soft o’er the eastern hill,
A tiny bird ascends the tallest tree,
Perched on swaying bough, wild and free.

His feathers catch the rose and amber gleam,
A jewel alive in the morning’s dream,
Throat trembling wide, he pours forth his lay—
Pure notes of joy that chase the night away.

No thought of sorrow, no weight of care,
Only praise ascending through the crystal air,
A hymn to the Maker who formed his wing,
Who tuned his voice that the heavens might ring.

O may our hearts, so often bound and dim,
Learn from this creature, so small yet so brim
With gratitude’s fire, with love’s simple art—
To lift our own song with an open heart.

Let us rise like the lark in the breaking day,
And sing to our Creator, come what may,
For in every breath, in beauty’s embrace,
We find the same wonder, the same boundless grace.

If Christ Has Died for My Sin, I Cannot Trifle with the Evil That Killed My Best Friend by Debbie Harris

The poem reflects deeply on Charles Spurgeon’s quote and the image of Christ crucified. It portrays the speaker’s horrified realization that every personal sin helped drive the nails into Jesus—the “best Friend” and Savior who died in agony to redeem them. Because Christ’s death was the ultimate payment for those very sins, the speaker resolves never again to treat evil lightly, flirt with it, or indulge it. Instead, they vow to hate and reject the darkness that murdered their Lord, choosing instead to live wholly for the One who loved them to the end.

In essence:
Christ died for my sin → therefore I must hate and refuse to trifle with the sin that killed Him.

The tone is one of repentant awe, fierce gratitude, and solemn determination.

Shall I behold the cross where mercy bled,
And see my sin the nail that pierced His side?
Yet still I dally with the path He tread
To death, and call the darkness my own bride?

No—He who hung in agony for me,
My dearest Friend, my Savior, and my Lord,
Was slain by every selfish thought in me,
By every lust my wayward heart adored.

If grace so vast has paid redemption’s price,
How can I play with shadows that He slew?
Each trifling sin revives the ancient vice
That crowned Him thorns and drenched His visage through.

O let me hate what murdered such a Friend,
And live for Him whose love will never end.

Rise, O Patriots! A Thunderous Cry Against Godless Marxists Who Hate America and Mock the Cross – In Praise of Leaders Like Trump by Debbie Harris

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This lengthy classical rhyming poem is a passionate, fiery patriotic and Christian anthem that sharply contrasts two visions of American leadership and national destiny.

Core Themes and Structure:

  • It begins by celebrating true patriots who deeply love America, her freedoms, the flag, and the Christian faith centered on Jesus Christ as Savior. These are depicted as eagles and lions—strong, protective, and unyielding.
  • It unleashes intense disgust and righteous anger toward “compromised,” “godless,” and “Marxist” Democratic leaders (described as wolves in activist clothing, greedy traitors, serpents, and Judases). They are accused of hating America, mocking Jesus Christ and the Cross, betraying the nation, sowing division, and dismantling liberty for personal power and foreign ideologies.
  • The poem calls for burning through their lies with flames of truth and holy fire, exposing their “wicked,” “traitorous,” “black” hearts in vivid, merciless detail—no mercy is shown to these “vipers” and “wolves.”
  • It invokes Jesus Christ directly as the Light, Fortress, Shield, Sword, and ultimate Judge, pleading for heavenly fire and justice to consume the deceivers and reveal their sin.
  • In triumphant contrast, it praises leaders like Trump as a bold, fearless exemplar: a lionhearted fighter who defies elites, battles the “swamp,” rallies the people, defends the flag and the cross, and stands with unbreakable will and golden resolve.
  • The people (“we the faithful remnant”) are urged to rise with thunderous voices, stand unbowed, proclaim victory in Christ and country, and cast aside the traitors forever.
  • It closes on a note of hopeful triumph: America will rise from the ashes of treachery, justice will prevail, and true leaders who love both God and nation will endure—in the mighty name of Jesus.

Overall Tone and Purpose:
The poem is unapologetically militant, revivalist, and prophetic—blending Old Testament-style condemnation of evil with New Testament calls to faith and battle-hymn energy. It serves as both a scathing denunciation of perceived enemies and an inspiring call to arms for conservative, Christian patriots, positioning figures like Trump as divinely aligned defenders of faith, freedom, and America.

In essence: A holy war cry in verse—condemning godless betrayal, exalting Christ-centered patriotism, and raising the banner for Trump-like leadership to restore the republic

In halls where freedom’s banner waves so high,
True patriots rise, with hearts that never lie.
They cherish the land of the brave and the free,
Where stars and stripes dance eternally.

Not those who cloak in shadows of deceit,
With words of division, sowing discord’s heat.
Greedy and godless, calloused, immoral core,
They twist the truth to plant the bitter war.

Most are Marxist wolves in activist guise,
Posing as saviors while freedom slowly dies.
They spit on the flag, that red, white, and blue,
And mock our dear Savior, the Holy and True.

Compromised leaders, their souls a black stain,
Hating America, chilling her veins.
With venomous tongues they dismantle the dream,
Of liberty’s light, where faith’s rivers stream.

But we the people, in unity we stand,
Demanding true leaders with a loving hand.
Like eagles soaring o’er the mountain’s crest,
They guard our home, putting nation first and best.

No chains of ideology, no foreign thrall,
Just love for our country, answering the call.
Leaders like Trump, with fire and with might,
Defying the elite, igniting the fight.

From boardrooms to ballots, he strides unafraid,
Rallying the masses where true voices are raised.
Like lions he roars for the cross and the flag,
Unbowed by the storm, refusing to lag.
With golden resolve and unbreakable will,
He battles the swamp, stands towering still.

In flames of truth, we burn through their lies,
Exposing the veil where deception resides.
Their traitorous hearts, so wicked and black,
Pulsing with venom, no virtue intact.

Like serpents in Eden, they coil and they hiss,
Betraying the faithful, sealing doom with a kiss.
No love for the Savior, no honor for kin,
Just greed’s hollow echo where shadows begin.

O Savior, our Light, in Your glory we call,
Pierce through the darkness where traitors enthrall.
No more shall we whisper—Your name we proclaim,
Burning their falsehoods in Your holy flame!

Their wicked hearts quiver, exposed to Your gaze,
No mask can conceal their rebellious malaise.
They scorned Your cross, they mocked Your pure grace,
Now feel the inferno of righteous disgrace.

O Jesus, our Fortress, our Shield, and our Sword,
Unleash heaven’s fire on the foes of the Lord.
Reveal every serpent, every Judas within,
Let truth like a tempest consume all their sin.

We rise like the prophets, with thunderous cry,
Demanding true leaders who never deny—
The love for our nation, the grace from above,
Like eagles defending with unyielding love.

No mercy for wolves in the sheep’s humble guise,
Who despise our freedoms and heavenly ties.
In eternal disdain, we cast them aside,
For God and for country, our banners held high!

We stand in Your promise, unbowed and unafraid,
For America kneels where Your banner is raised.
No compromise lingers, no traitor prevails—
In Your mighty name, their empire now fails!

Rise up, O believers, with voices like thunder,
The Savior is coming—His justice no longer asunder.
Through lies they are ashes, their treachery dust,
In Christ and in country, we triumph, we trust!

In rhyme of old, this anthem we declare:
America rises, beyond their despair!
For leaders like Trump, we stake our sacred claim—
With fire, with faith, in the Savior’s great name!

Hearts Enthroned by Grace: The King of Kings Makes Every Humble Man, Woman, and Child a Prince, Princess, Queen, or King in His Sight by Debbie Harris

A man, woman, or child with Christ in their heart is like a king, queen, prince, or princess; without Christ, they are a pauper — regardless of earthly status or wealth.

With Christ within the heart, though man be born
In low estate, he wears a crown unseen;
The woman shines as queen, though robes be torn,
The child a prince where royal blood runs clean.
No palace walls, no sceptre forged of gold,
Yet majesty attends their every breath;
In humble clay the King of kings takes hold,
And turns the dust to life that conquers death.

But absent Christ, though wealth and pomp abound,
The soul remains a pauper, starved and bare;
The richest king upon his throne is bound
In rags of spirit, wandering despair.
So let the heart receive its rightful Guest—
Then pauper, prince, and beggar rise as kings.

He Sat Down: The Finished Work That Quiets the Heart and Reveals the Father’s Smile Toward Every Sinner by Debbie Harris

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The poem He Sat Down: The Finished Work That Quiets the Heart and Reveals the Father’s Smile Toward Every Sinner is a classical rhymed meditation in seven stanzas, rooted in Hebrews 1:1–3 (KJV) and supporting Scriptures. It traces God’s progressive revelation and culminates in the believer’s assurance through Christ’s completed work.

Summary by stanza:

  1. In the past, God spoke in fragmented, shadowy ways through prophets—partial glimpses delivered in riddles and types across time.
  2. Now, in these final days, God has spoken fully and decisively through His Son—no longer in pieces, but in perfect clarity, awakening the true heart of the Father.
  3. The Son is the heir of all creation, the radiant brightness of God’s glory, the exact image of His nature—the One in whom divine majesty is fully expressed.
  4. Christ offered Himself once to purge sinners’ guilt, then sat down at God’s right hand—a completed act that ends the endless labor of old-covenant priests and opens the way for every soul to find its true purpose and rest in Him.
  5. No changing emotion or painful circumstance can overshadow the unchanging truth of Christ’s finished work: the Father looks upon the believer with mercy, love, and tender care, seen clearly in Jesus.
  6. The same mighty hand and powerful word that uphold the stars and sustain the universe are the same that drew the distant sinner near and continue to uphold the weary soul with unbreakable strength.
  7. Therefore the doubting heart should cease wandering in despair or judging God’s grace by present suffering; instead, it should look once to Jesus, behold the Father plainly revealed, and rest forever in Him as its true and eternal home.

Overall message (in one sentence):
Through the full revelation of God in His Son—who created, redeemed, sat down in triumph, and upholds all things—the poem comforts the doubting or weary soul that God is not distant or undecided, but has decisively shown His smiling, merciful face in Christ’s finished work, granting unshakable nearness, rest, and security forever.

God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high.
— Hebrews 1:1–3 (KJV)

Jesus saith unto him, Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip? he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Shew us the Father?
— John 14:9 (KJV)

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
— Matthew 11:28 (KJV)

And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, I will; be thou clean.
— Mark 1:41 (KJV)

But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
— Romans 5:8 (KJV)

But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God.
— Hebrews 10:12 (KJV)

For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified.
— Hebrews 10:14 (KJV)

But now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ.
— Ephesians 2:13 (KJV)

And he is before all things, and by him all things consist.
— Colossians 1:17 (KJV)

When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, It is finished: and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost.
— John 19:30 (KJV)

Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.
— Philippians 1:6 (KJV)

In ages past, through shadowed word and sign,
God spoke in fragments, veiled in type and dream;
By prophet’s voice, in riddle and in gleam,
He whispered faintly down the line of time.

But now, in these last days, the silence breaks—
No partial echo, no divided ray,
But full and final comes the perfect day:
The Son Himself the Father’s heart awakes.

Heir of all worlds, through whom creation springs,
The very radiance of the unseen throne,
The exact impress, bearing God alone—
In Him the Eternal Majesty sings.

He purged our guilt, then sat in kingly rest,
No more to stand where priests in shadows toiled;
One offering—complete—the curse recoiled,
And sinners find in Him their souls’ true quest.

No fickle feeling, no dark circumstance
Can dim the truth His finished work declares:
The Father’s gaze is mercy, love, and care—
In Christ we see the smile of Providence.

The hand that holds the stars in ordered flight,
The word that keeps the boundless heavens spun,
Is He who drew us near when we had none—
Our souls upheld by His unyielding might.

So let the weary heart no longer roam
In doubt’s cold mist, nor measure grace by pain;
Look once to Jesus—see the Father plain—
And find in Him your everlasting home.

Sons and Daughters of the King: Our Identity in Christ by Debbie Harris

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Sons and Daughters of the King: Our Identity in Christ:

This classical-style devotional poem is a tender, awe-filled reminder to believers of the breathtaking privileges and new identity bestowed upon us through salvation in Jesus Christ our Lord. It calls the soul to awaken from any sense of lowliness or forgetfulness and to marvel at what grace has accomplished.

The poem unfolds as a gentle yet majestic declaration:

  • We are no longer strangers or wanderers in darkness but adopted children of the Father, crying “Abba” by His Spirit.
  • We are joint-heirs with Christ, sharing His divine inheritance—not by our merit, but by His blood and resurrection.
  • We are a new creation, clothed in Christ’s righteousness, with the old life of sin forever gone.
  • We bear exalted biblical names: chosen, royal priesthood, holy nation, peculiar treasure, beloved saints, friends of Christ, ambassadors, members of His body, more than conquerors—all sealed and secured by His wounds and love.

The heart of the poem is the profound privilege of sonship and daughtership in the household of the King of kings: invited to His table, crowned with mercy, welcomed forever as royalty on earth. Yet this honor is never cause for pride—it is ground for humble wonder, gratitude, and worship.

The closing exhortation is simple and stirring: rejoice in this truth, live from this glorious birthright given by grace alone through faith in Christ, and go forth reflecting the splendor of being His dearly loved sons and daughters.

In essence, the poem is a lyrical love letter to believers: “You are already royalty, already family, already heirs—because the King has made you so. Rest in it. Rejoice in it. Proclaim it with humble joy.

John 1:12 (KJV)
But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name:

Romans 8:14-17 (KJV)
For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. 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; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.

Galatians 4:6-7 (KJV)
And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father. Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.

1 Peter 2:9 (KJV)
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.

O soul, awake from slumber’s lowly dream,
Behold what grace hath wrought in thee through Him—
The King of kings, who left His throne supreme,
To claim thee lost, and bid thee call Him kin.

No more a stranger, wandering in the night,
But child adopted by the Father’s love;
His Spirit whispers, “Abba,” in thy sight,
And seals thee heir to mansions far above.

Joint-heir with Christ, the Firstborn from the dead,
Thou sharest His inheritance divine—
Not earned by works, but by the blood He shed,
An endless portion, royal, pure, and thine.

A chosen one, elect before the dawn,
A new creation, old things passed away;
The former rags of sin forever gone,
In robes of righteousness thou stand’st today.

Royal priesthood, offering praise on high,
Holy nation, set apart for heaven’s call;
A peculiar treasure ‘neath His watchful eye,
His own possession—loved beyond recall.

Beloved saint, and friend of Christ the Lord,
Ambassador of peace in realms of strife;
Member of His body, by His wounds restored,
More than conqueror through Him who gives thee life.

What privilege sublime, what honor vast,
To bear the name of son, of daughter dear!
The King of glory bids thee to His feast,
And crowns thy head with mercy year by year.

Then lift thy voice in wonder, not in pride:
“By grace alone, through faith in Christ our Lord,
I am His child, His heir, His spotless bride—
Forever welcomed at my Father’s board.”

Rejoice, O believer, in this truth profound:
The King hath made thee royalty on earth,
Not for thy merit, but His love unbound—
Go forth and live the glory of thy birth!