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
A Living Hymn Of Praise : Quatrain by Debbie Harris
23 Sunday Feb 2025
Posted in Christian Poetry
23 Sunday Feb 2025
Posted in Christian Poetry
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
22 Saturday Feb 2025
Posted in Christian Poetry
Through valleys deep where shadows cling and stay,
A mountain looms, its peak a daunting sight,
Its granite heart defies the sun’s warm rays,
A testament to nature’s boundless might.
Yet faith, a whisper-soft, begins to stir,
A seed of trust within the soul takes root,
It speaks to stone, unyielding as it were,
And bids the crags dissolve beneath its suit.
No hammer falls, no chisel carves the way,
But belief alone unwinds the ancient hold,
The ridge retreats, the summit fades to gray,
A miracle in quiet strength retold.
So faith, with gentle force, remakes the land,
And moves the world with an unseen hand.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
When sin’s fierce sting convicts a heart to rend,
A captive bound by guilt’s unyielding chain,
A soul then seeks what grace alone can mend,
Nor dreams a soul can rise from death’s domain.
But Christ, with love that pierces mortal stain,
Does call a name and bid a spirit wake,
A miracle through blood and mercy’s reign,
To cast off self and new creation take.
No longer bound, but life within remakes,
A creature born anew, by faith arrayed,
Through cross and tomb, the old life love forsakes,
In this all guilt and shame forever fade.
So wondrous is this change by heaven sent,
A soul reborn, in love forever bent.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
A babe was born beneath a quiet sky,
So small, so frail, in swaddling gently laid,
A son of man, yet heaven’s own reply,
In whom the ancient promises were paid.
A redeemer sent, though kings knew not his face,
He came to break the chains of sin’s dark reign,
Foretold by seers through time’s unyielding space,
A light to heal the world’s unyielding pain.
The scrolls of old had whispered of this day,
When God would dwell with mortals here below,
A child to lead the lost and show the way,
Through sacrifice, redemption’s seed to sow.
Fulfilled, the word of prophets brightly rings,
A babe, a son—our hope, our King of kings.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
Posted in Christian Poetry
When heaven gazed upon the earth below,
A star awoke to light the midnight air,
A babe was born where silent winds did blow,
In Bethlehem, so humble, yet so fair.
The angels sang with joy beyond compare,
Their voices rang through realms of endless skies,
A Savior come, a child of grace so rare,
In manger laid, beneath celestial eyes.
The firmament, with wonder, did arise,
To see the Word made flesh in infant frame,
A king disguised in meekness, small in size,
Yet destined to redeem and bear our shame.
So heaven smiled, its glory softly spilled,
A babe, a Son, with love the world fulfilled.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
Tags
bible, Biblical Truth, Christ Centered Devotionals, Christian Poetry, faith, god, Inspirational, jesus, Royally Redeemed, salvation
1. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34)
A voice above the clamor softly pleads,
Forgiving those who nail Him to the tree,
Their blindness sown in dark and bitter deeds,
Yet mercy flows where wrath might claim its fee.
The soldiers cast their lots, the crowd derides,
Each jeer a thorn to pierce His tender frame,
But love, unyielding, in His heart abides,
And pardons all who mock His holy name.
What grace is this, that spares the guilty hand?
What strength to bless where curses might be hurled?
A king enthroned where mortals dare not stand,
He breaks the chains that bind a fallen world.
From splintered wood, a prayer ascends on high,
To save the lost, though they condemn Him die.
2. “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43)
Beside Him hangs a thief, with breath near spent,
Whose life in shadow reaped a bitter end,
Yet in his plea, a spark of hope is lent,
A whispered cry for Christ to call him friend.
The cross, a gallows meant for shame and doom,
Becomes a gate where mercy’s light breaks through,
For Jesus speaks amidst the gathering gloom,
And promises a dawn forever new.
No years of penance, no atoning rite,
Just faith that clings to Him in final breath,
And lo, the soul ascends to realms of light,
Outstripping sin and overturning death.
In one brief word, eternity is won,
A thief made heir beside the sinless Son.
3. “Woman, behold your son… Behold your mother” (John 19:26-27)
Amid the anguish of His waning hours,
He sees her stand, His mother, cloaked in woe,
Her heart a field torn by affliction’s powers,
Yet still she lingers where the blood-drops flow.
To John He turns, His friend of faithful years,
And binds them fast in love’s enduring care,
A son for her to stem the flood of tears,
A mother for the one who stood so near.
Though death encroaches, duty holds Him fast,
To weave a bond beyond the grave’s cold claim,
A family forged where earthly ties won’t last,
United still beneath His sacred name.
From cross to earth, His tenderness extends,
A legacy of love that never ends.
4. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46, Mark 15:34)
The sky grows black, the sun retreats in dread,
A cry escapes the lips of Him who bore
The weight of sin, where once He broke the bread,
Now broken, lost where none have gone before.
Eternal Son, yet severed from the light,
He drains the cup no mortal could endure,
The Father’s face withdrawn from anguished sight,
A rift to make the wandering soul secure.
What desolation echoes in that call?
What depths of grief could rend the heavens wide?
Yet in His fall, He lifts us from our fall,
The forsaken One for whom the forsaken cried.
The psalm He quotes becomes His victory’s plea,
A bridge from exile back to unity.
5. “I thirst” (John 19:28)
A parched and whispered word cuts through the air,
The lips that spoke the seas to life now dry,
A man in flesh, with mortal need to bear,
He thirsts beneath a dark and hollow sky.
They offer gall, a mockery of aid,
Yet He, who gave the springs their ceaseless flow,
Endures the sting, His purpose undismayed,
To drink the dregs that only He could know.
This thirst is more than body’s frail demand,
It longs to quench the world’s eternal flame,
To bear its drought within His wounded hand,
And carve through dust a river in His name.
From arid cross, a fountain soon will rise,
A stream of grace to flood the tear-stained eyes.
6. “It is finished” (John 19:30)
The labor ends, the task at last complete,
A single breath declares the triumph won,
No more to bleed, no further foe to meet,
The shadowed veil of sin forever spun.
The temple trembles, earth itself gives way,
As He, the Lamb, fulfills the ancient plan,
The price is paid, the debt no more to pay,
Redemption wrought by one unblemished Man.
No boast, no cry of conquest loudly rings,
Just quiet words that shake the gates of hell,
A victory born where suffering clings,
A tale of love no tongue can fully tell.
The cross, once death, now stands as life’s great sign,
“It is finished”—freedom’s chord divine.
7. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Luke 23:46)
The final sigh, a trust beyond the veil,
He yields His soul where mortal strength would quail,
No fear, no doubt, though flesh and spirit fail,
A child returns where love will never pale.
The hands that shaped the stars now hold Him near,
The Father’s arms, His refuge from the strife,
A whispered peace to silence every fear,
The bridge from death into eternal life.
This last surrender crowns His earthly road,
A king who reigns by giving all away,
The seed that dies to lighten every load,
The dusk that breaks into undying day.
From cross to glory, faith has paved the flight,
His spirit soars into the endless light.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
The persecuted bear a crown of flame,
Through jeers and stones, their spirits rise unbound,
A world of scorn heaps ashes on their name,
Yet in their wounds, a sacred light is found.
No spear can pierce the hope within their breast,
Though chains may bind and bitter winds may bite,
They walk through fire, by heaven’s promise blessed,
Their tears like stars ignite the endless night.
The mob may roar, the whip may carve its tale,
But grace anoints their suffering with gold,
Each scar a gate where mortal fears grow pale,
A kingdom gleams beyond the tempest bold.
For those who bleed beneath oppression’s rod,
Theirs is the realm, the kingdom of our God.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
Beneath the cross, where shadows bled and grew,
A lone disciple stood, his heart a stone,
While others fled, their courage torn in two,
He lingered there, in grief’s unyielding moan.
The sky turned black, a shroud of anguished cries,
The nails, the spear, the weight of sin bore down,
Yet John remained, with tear-streaked, burning eyes,
A witness bound by love to Christ’s torn crown.
No thunder shook his feet from that dark hill,
Though fear like thorns sank deep into his breast,
His soul, a flame, held fast by sacred will,
Amid the storm, he found a fragile rest.
One heart stood firm where others’ faith was lost,
Hold near the cross no matter what the cost.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
The kindness of our Lord, a crimson tide,
Sweeps through the soul like dawn’s unyielding flame,
It carves through stone where secret shadows hide,
And calls us forth from graves etched with our name.
No storm of fire rains down to sear the earth,
But silver dewdrops gleam on wilted vines,
A breeze of myrrh, a cradle’s tender birth,
Unfurls the heart where thorns of sin entwines.
His gaze, a sun that melts the frost of years,
Dissolves the chains in rivers wild and deep,
Through jagged scars, a fountain now appears,
Where once we bled, sweet lilies gently weep.
Thus kindness storms, a flood to heal our rent,
Through sore repentance, we’re salvation’s sent.
22 Saturday Feb 2025
When man forsakes the sacred writ of old,
The compass true that steers through storm and strife,
He wanders blind, in shadows dark and cold,
And yields his soul to falsehood’s subtle knife.
The enemy, with whispers soft and sly,
Doth twist the heart and cloud the seeking mind,
A web of lies where truth itself may die,
And virtue’s path grows ever hard to find.
Without the Word, the standard firm and clear,
Deception reigns, a king on borrowed throne,
Each step astray, a fall to doubt and fear,
Till man believes he treads the world alone.
Yet grace remains, a light through scripture shown,
To break the lie and claim us as His own.
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