Lord, You Are the Source of All Wisdom, Holiness, and Life Version 1 by Debbie Harris

This is a humble, worshipful prayer-poem declaring that we have no wisdom apart from God. Using a simple and flowing AABB rhyme scheme (rhyming couplets), the poem features a repeating refrain and gentle classical rhythm, inviting every soul to turn from self-reliance and lean fully on God’s holy, life-giving Word.

O Lord, apart from Thee we hold no wisdom;
Thou art our Wisdom, holy, pure, and true.
We lean not on the fragile reed of self,
But on Thy Word, our compass ever sure.

Thou art the Wisdom crowned with light and life,
A river pure that cleaves the deepest night,
A living fountain where the weary soul
Drinks grace undimmed, and finds its true delight.

In every moment, at each turning place,
We turn from shadowed self and fleeting schemes,
Rejecting all the hollow lore of earth
To rest in Thee alone, our life, our dreams.

O Lord, apart from Thee we hold no wisdom;
Thou art our Wisdom, faithful, strong, and true.
Breathe now Thy sacred fire through every soul,
And reign forever as our King and Goal.

The Holy Spirit’s Faithful Guard: What He Has Never Done and Never Will by Debbie Harris

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O Holy Spirit, faithful Guide and Dove,
You never lead the soul where Scripture forbids.
Your gentle touch anoints with truth and love,
And never plants rebellion in our hearts or minds.

You will not call a woman to the role
Of shepherd, ruling over men in church;
Creation’s order stands — from Eden’s dawn —
Christ is the Head, and men reflect His worth.

You never lead a single soul to sin,
To break the vows of marriage or betray;
Your voice brings holiness and self-control,
Convicting us to walk the narrow way.

You do not need our money to release
A single blessing from the Father’s hand;
Grace flows unearned, through faith and not through fees —
No coin can buy what only God commands.

You give no guarantee of health or wealth
To every believer who calls on His name;
Some saints will suffer, carry thorns, or pain,
Yet find their strength and treasure still the same.

You do not force the tongue to speak in noise,
In unknown sounds that only one can know;
True gifts build up the church with ordered voice,
Or lift the heart in quiet prayer alone.

You never speak a word against the Book,
Never twist the Scriptures or contradict;
The Bible is Your lantern, truth Your light —
You guide us ever by what God has writ.

Great Spirit, guard Your church from every lie,
From teachings smooth that tickle itching ears;
Keep humble hearts in holy fear and awe,
And test each spirit till the truth appears.

For You are seal and guarantee and Guide,
Always pointing us to Jesus Christ the Lord —
In Him the Father’s perfect will abides,
Unchanging, pure, according to Your Word.

Blessed Is The Nation Whose God Is The Lord (rhymed version) by Debbie Harris

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An Original Rhymed Epic Poem
(ABAB rhyme scheme, iambic tetrameter)

In realms where earthly kingdoms fall
And fleeting empires turn to dust,
The Sovereign One reigns over all—
Jesus Christ, the faithful, just.

King of kings and Lord of lords,
Whose name is written high above,
He calms the sea with sovereign words
And reigns in everlasting love.

Whose people fix their gaze upon the Son,
Jesus Christ, by heaven adored,
The Chosen One, the Holy One.
In such a land true justice flows,

Like rivers deep and crystal clear;
Mercy touches suffering’s woes,
And truth dispels all doubt and fear.

From dawn of time when stars sang praise
At the Sovereign One’s command,
Jesus Christ in humble ways
Walked dusty roads across the land.

He touched the leper, gave sight to blind,
Called Lazarus forth from death’s cold tomb;
Upon the cross, with love refined,
He bore the nails, endured the gloom.

Blood and water freely flowed
As darkness veiled the noonday sun;
Yet death itself could not hold
The Prince of Life—the victory won.

The stone was rolled, the tomb stood bare,
Nail-scarred hands now intercede;
The Sovereign One ascended there,
Seated where all angels plead.

Its foundations rest upon the Stone,
The Cornerstone once cast aside;
Its leaders seek the throne of grace alone,
Its families walk in love outpoured and wide.

Its youth stand tall like cedars strong,
Its elders rest beneath almighty wings;
Its streets resound with grateful song
Of freedom born where mercy sings.

The Sovereign One extends scarred hands
And gently calls the weary soul:
“Come unto Me, in My command
Find rest that makes the broken whole.”

In answer, chains of sin release,
Freedom blooms in holy light;
The stranger finds a place of peace,
The hungry eat, the naked clothed aright.

When final trumpet shakes the sky
And clouds reveal the King of kings,
With eyes like flame and robe dipped high,
The Sovereign One His glory brings.

The holy city then descends,
Where no more tears or darkness fall;
The river of life forever bends,
And Christ, the Sovereign One, is all.

Let every heart across the land
Give heed to this eternal call:
True greatness lies not in fame or gold,
But humble trust in Christ alone,

That every tribe and tongue may hold
Communion with the Sovereign One.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.

Blessed Is The Nation Whose God Is The Lord (blank verse) by Debbie Harris

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In boundless realms where fleeting empires rise and crumble into dust,
The Sovereign One reigns eternal, high above all thrones and powers.
Jesus Christ, the Living Word who spoke light into the formless void,
King of kings and Lord of lords, whose name is written on the robe and thigh,
Holds the scepter of perfect righteousness and boundless grace.

No mortal crown, no iron fist, no glittering hoard of gold
Can rival this divine authority that calms the storm with a whisper
And causes the dead to stand at the sound of His voice.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord—
Whose people fix their gaze upon the Sovereign One,
Jesus Christ, exalted above every name in heaven and on earth.

In such a land, justice flows like a mighty river clear and deep,
Mercy touches the hem of the garment of the suffering and the outcast,
And truth shines as a beacon brighter than the noonday sun.
The Sovereign One watches over the humble with eyes that see every tear,
Lifts the weary soul from dust, and defends the fatherless and widow,
Writing upon the heart of a people an inheritance of unshakable peace.

From the dawn of creation, when stars sang at the Sovereign One’s command,
Jesus Christ stepped into time, born in a lowly stable yet wrapped in glory.
He walked dusty roads, touched lepers with hands of compassion,
Healed the blind with mud and spit, and called forth Lazarus from the tomb.
Upon a cruel cross, the Sovereign One bore the nails that pierced His hands and feet,
Blood and water flowing as the sun hid its face in darkness.

Yet death could not hold the Prince of Life—the stone was rolled away,
The empty tomb stood silent witness to victory over the grave.
Rising in power on the third morning, the Sovereign One ascended,
Seated now at the right hand of the Father, interceding with nail-scarred hands.
Angels veil their faces; elders cast their crowns before the throne.

Every knee in heaven, on earth, and under the earth shall one day bow,
Every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the Father’s glory.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord—
For in the Sovereign One alone does true flourishing take root.
Its foundations rest not on shifting sands of human schemes,
But on the Rock of Ages, the Cornerstone rejected yet chosen.

Its leaders kneel for wisdom before the throne of grace,
Its families reflect the steadfast love that flowed from Calvary’s hill,
Its streets echo with songs of redemption and awe-filled praise.
No tempest of adversity can uproot what the Sovereign One upholds,
No shadow of darkness can quench the light that streams from the empty tomb,
For blessing descends like morning dew upon the nation that honors Him.

The Sovereign One, Jesus Christ, King of kings and Lord of lords,
Extends hands still bearing the prints of the nails and speaks with gentle authority:
“Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
In answer, the nation that chooses this sovereign grace discovers freedom profound—
Freedom from sin’s iron chains, freedom to walk in holy, joyful purpose,
Freedom to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and welcome the stranger as kin.

Here the young grow strong like cedars planted by streams of living water,
The elders find rest beneath wings that shelter like the shadow of the Almighty,
And the whole people become a city set on a hill, reflecting the Sovereign One’s light.

When the final trumpet sounds and the Sovereign One returns in clouds of glory,
With eyes like flame and a robe dipped in blood, riding the white horse of conquest,
The nations shall stand before the throne where books are opened wide.
Yet for the people who have made the Sovereign One their God,
There awaits a new creation: the holy city descending, where no night falls,
No tear is shed, and the river of life flows crystal clear from the throne.

The tree of life bears fruit in every season; the curse is lifted forever.
Tyrants bow low, idols crumble into dust, and Jesus Christ reigns visibly,
King of kings, Lord of lords, making all things new.

Let every heart across every land give heed to this eternal declaration:
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord—
For its God is Jesus Christ, the Sovereign One,
Whose pierced hands redeem, whose justice perfects every wrong,
Whose presence transforms the wilderness into a garden,
And whose reign brings life abundant, now and for all eternity.

In this divine reality, true greatness is not measured by armies or treasuries,
But by humble, joyful allegiance to the One who gave Himself completely
That every nation, tribe, and tongue might taste the greatest blessing—
Communion with the Sovereign One, forever and ever.

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.

No Neutrality in Eternity’s Balance: For Our Lord Jesus Christ or Against Him – Repentance or Wrath, Heaven or Hell by Debbie Harris

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No neutral shore, no middle ground endures;
No fence where trembling souls may safely hide.
Heaven’s keen sword has drawn its searing line—
With Christ, or swallowed in the outer tide.

He spoke it plain, a blade that cleaves the bone:
“Who stands not for Me stands against My name.”
No half-surrendered heart can hedge its own
Small claim; eternity permits no middle flame.

Born once of flesh, we wake already stained,
Heirs to the wrath the ancient serpent spun—
A venom coil that shadows every vein.
Yet grace invades when sin is fully named;
Repentance turns the key, and mercy’s won.

His blood, poured molten on the cursed tree,
Scours the guilty who in ashes bow.
The Spirit breathes—scales fall from eyes that see
A second birth that quickens dust, and now.

Choose now, O soul—tomorrow is not sworn;
This fragile thread of breath may be your last.
The narrow path to life, the broad to scorn—
Your endless harbor hangs upon one cry: “Lord, save me.”

He waits, arms open wide, not willing one
Should perish where the undying fire lies.
Mercy still calls today. His will is done
When sinners turn. For Him… or lost forever. Rise. Decide.

A Victorious Hymn: Be Not Ashamed – Live Boldly, Share the Glorious Gospel That Defeats Satan and Saves Souls by Debbie Harris

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Romans 1:16
For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.

O believer, rise! Let silence flee away,
The chains of fear dissolve in holy fire!
The One who bled upon the cursed tree
Now lives in thee with resurrection power.

He died for thee—thy ransom fully paid,
He loves thee deep, with everlasting love;
He delights o’er thee with singing, joy arrayed—
The Mighty One who saves, as prophets prove.

Like Zephaniah’s song of tender grace,
He quiets thee with love and sings aloud;
The Father’s heart exults in warm embrace,
Rejoicing o’er His child with joyful cloud.

Each time the glorious Gospel thou dost share,
The hosts of hell in terror shriek and flee;
Satan’s dark throne trembles in despair,
His demons routed by truth’s victory!

Be bold, O saint! Live out the Gospel bright,
In joyous triumph, fearless, unafraid;
Walk in the light of Christ’s eternal might,
And let His Word through every deed be displayed.

Proclaim the gift of salvation, free and true,
By grace through faith, not works that man has wrought;
For faith arises when the Word breaks through—
By hearing, hearing comes the truth Christ taught.

“I am not ashamed!”—let this thy motto ring,
Through crowded streets and quiet corners too;
The power of God for salvation it doth bring
To Jew and Gentile, old and young anew.

With holy boldness speak with authority:
“The Bible says!”—thus declare the sacred line;
Not soft tolerance that blinds the eye to see,
But truth that reproves all evil, stern and fine.

Call sin by name, and warn of hell’s dark gate,
Lest souls in slumber drift to endless night;
Yet offer hope—Christ saves from sin and wrath,
Turning the lost to everlasting light.

Boldly carry thy Bible—His living voice,
His sacred instructions, lamp unto thy feet;
In it He speaks, and bids thy heart rejoice,
Guiding thy steps till heaven’s joy complete.

O Church, awake! Proclaim the Savior’s name,
Transforming lives with news of grace divine;
In every tongue, in every land the same,
The Gospel triumphs—Satan’s kingdom declines!

Live victoriously, with banners high unfurled,
For Christ hath conquered, and in Him we stand;
Share boldly, love deeply, shine as lights in the world—
The darkness flees before the risen Lamb! Hallelujah!

The victory is won,
Through thee, dear believer, God’s kingdom comes.
Press on with joy till every battle’s done—
The King has come to offer salvation to all!

This is the glorious, transformative, victorious, triumphant good news:
Jesus saves!

Complete In Jesus Christ, Our Lord by Debbie Harris

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Colossians 2:9–10 (KJV)
For in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.
And ye are complete in him, which is the head of all principality and power.

In Christ the fullness of the Godhead dwells,
The whole of deity in flesh enshrined.
No part withheld, no glory left to sell—

In Jesus lives the fullness, unconfined.
And you have been filled—yes, filled in Him alone,
Not someday soon, nor earned by sweat or prayer.
The work is finished; grace has claimed its throne.

You lack no good; His fullness meets you there.

The anxious heart that whispers, “I am less,”
The striving soul that toils to earn His face,
The burdened one weighed down by shame’s distress—

All find their verdict changed in this one place.
You are not becoming. You have become.
Not climbing up—you’re seated now on high.
The Father’s voice has spoken: “It is done.”

In Christ you live, and never more shall die.

No pressure weighs to prove what Christ has sealed,
No fear of falling from what blood secured.
The fullness dwells in Him—and you are healed,
Complete, made whole, eternally assured.

Let every lie of lack now melt away,
Let shame and fear surrender to the King.
You stand complete where mercy holds its sway—

In Him, and He in you, forever sing.

So rest, dear soul, let every effort cease;
The battle’s won, the victory is won.
You are not striving for His perfect peace—

You are filled in Christ. And it is done.

Behold the Master’s Signature:All Creation Declares His Flawless Art by Debbie Harris

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In dawn’s first blush where golden rivers run,
The Master’s hand unfurls the rising sun—
A canvas vast, with clouds of silken fire,
Each ray a thread of heaven’s pure desire.

The mountains rise like ancient guardians tall,
Their peaks etched sharp against the sapphire wall;
With forests cloaked in emerald velvet deep,
Where whispers weave through boughs in slumber sweet.

The ocean sings in waves of turquoise grace,
A symphony of foam and vast embrace;
Beneath its breast, the coral gardens bloom,
Like jeweled cities from a monarch’s loom.

The fragile rose, in petals soft as prayer,
Unfolds her heart with fragrance rich and rare;
A butterfly, with wings of stained-glass light,
Dances on winds that bless the morning bright.

The stars at dusk, a diamond-studded veil,
Scatter their secrets where the nightingales
Pour forth their souls in melodies divine,
As moonlight bathes the world in silver shine.

From tiniest seed that cracks the earthen floor,
To eagle soaring where the tempests roar—
Each atom hums with purpose, pure and true,
A living poem etched by hands anew.

No flaw escapes the eye of perfect Love;
All things reflect the glory from above.
In every breath, in every leaf and stone,
We see the Artist’s signature—His own.

For what our Creator weaves in timeless art
Is masterpiece eternal, pure and whole—
A rhyme of wonder, beauty without end,
Where earth and sky in sacred chorus blend.

The Counter-Cultural Pilgrim: A Declaration of Unyielding Commitment to the Word of God Alone, Where One Soul Bows to Nothing — Only Scripture’s Throne by Debbie Harris

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The Counter-Cultural Pilgrim: A Declaration of Unyielding Commitment to the Word of God Alone, Where One Soul Bows to Nothing — Only Scripture’s Throne

In ages marked by every shifting breeze,
Where voices loud proclaim what feels most right,
One soul rejects the crowd and bends no knee—
They stand upon the ancient Word of light. 

No fleeting trend shall sway their heart or hand,
No cultural wave shall sweep their soul aside;
They plant their feet upon the Rock, unyielding stand,
Where truth eternal shall forever bide. 

They chase the golden calf of modern thought,
And bow before the idols shaped by pride;
Yet this one clings to what the Scriptures taught,
Though all the world may mock and turn aside. 

Let fashions fade and empires rise and fall,
Let doctrines soft replace the sword and fire;
Their life shall answer only Heaven’s call—
Sola Scriptura is their one desire. 

When culture cries “Conform!” with urgent plea,
And pressures mount to compromise the way,
They lift their eyes to Christ who set them free,
And walk the counter-cultural path each day. 

No compromise, no middle ground they’ll take,
No watered truth to soothe the itching ear;
For in the Book alone their rest they make,
And find the strength to persevere. 

O Lord, keep pure this heart that seeks Your face,
Refine their steps by every line You wrote;
Make them a light in this rebellious place—
A soul that bows to nothing — only Scripture’s throne.

An Exhortation to the Wayward Church: Repent and Turn to Christ the Living Word, That Streams of Living Water May Cause the Desert to Bloom and the House of God to Stand by Debbie Harris

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In halls once hallowed by the sacred page,
Where prophets’ fire and apostles’ zeal held sway,
Now echoes ring with fashions of the age,
And timid tongues let ancient truths decay. 

The Word of God, a lamp to guide the feet,
A sword to pierce the heart of sin and pride,
Lies dusty on the shelf, its edge grown sweet
With honeyed words that soothe where wounds abide. 

They chase the wind of justice newly wrought,
Of feelings high and doctrines bent to please;
Yet spurn the Rock on which the Church was bought,
And trade the eternal for the passing breeze. 

O shepherds blind, who lead the flock astray,
Repent! Turn back to Christ the living Word.
For when the ancient Truth is cast away,
The house of God becomes a hollow cry. 

Awake, ye saints! Repent and turn to Christ the Word—
That makes the desert bloom with living streams.