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A Song of Redeemed Delight by Debbie Harris

21 Sunday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

From the Poet’s Heart

I write not from lofty towers, but from the quiet wonder of one who has herself been caught in the embrace of this heavenly song. In a world quick to condemn and slow to celebrate, I longed to lift up the truth that our Savior does not merely tolerate us—He delights in us.

This poem is my offering: a small echo of the magnificent anthem He sings over every weary, forgiven, royal child of grace. May these words quiet the noise of accusation, still the lies of unworthiness, and awaken fresh joy in your soul.

You are not forgotten.

You are not rejected.

You are sung over with holy, exuberant love.

Listen. Rest. Rejoice.

With affection and awe,

The Poet

Zephaniah 3:17 (KJV)

The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.

There is a song of redeemed delight,

Sung over you, O precious child of grace—

A melody woven with golden threads,

Diamond notes and pearls of holy embrace.

Not the world’s cold dirge of disdain,

Nor the enemy’s accusing refrain,

But heaven’s exuberant, triumphant strain,

Poured forth by the Redeemer’s own sweet voice.

He sings of love that never fades,

Of mercy that washes every stain,

Of forgiveness that sets the captive free,

And royal heirship—your true identity.

The Lord your God is in your midst,

A Mighty One who saves and lifts.

He rejoices over you with gladness bright,

Quiets you with love, exults with singing light.

No condemnation in this sacred song,

Only delight where the redeemed belong.

So listen, child—let your heart be still,

Rest, rejoice, and stand in awe of His will.

For your Savior delights in you, His own,

Royally redeemed, forever known.

The song of delight rings eternal and true—

Beloved, it is sung over you.

You are delighted in.

You are sung over.

You are amazingly loved.

Hallelujah! 🎶✨

Through Jesus Christ We Behold Eternal Sunshine: A Hymn of Grace Celebrating the Cross, the Empty Tomb, and the Glorious Light of the Lamb by Debbie Harris

21 Sunday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

From the poet’s heart:

In these lines I have sought to echo the thunderous joy of Charles Spurgeon, that prince of preachers who ever lifted high the Sun of Righteousness. May this humble verse stir your soul to fix its gaze upon Jesus Christ, in whom alone we find eternal sunshine—unclouded, unending, and freely given to every weary pilgrim who trusts in Him. Read it slowly, aloud if you can, and let the ancient truths shine afresh in your spirit.

Grace and peace be yours in abundance through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Malachi 4:2 (KJV)

But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall.

In realms where tempests rage and shadows creep,

Where sin’s dark clouds their heavy burdens heap,

A radiant beam from heaven’s throne descends—

Through Jesus Christ, eternal sunshine bends!

Behold the cross, a tree of wondrous grace,

Where blood-red rivers wash the sinner’s face;

Its arms outstretched like golden rays unfurled,

Illuminate the weary, broken world.

No more the night of guilt’s oppressive gloom,

No more the frost of death’s impending doom—

The Sun of Righteousness arises bright,

With healing wings that chase away the night.

See how the valleys bloom in verdant green,

Where once the thorns of sorrow pierced unseen;

The desert hearts, once parched and cracked with pain,

Now drink the living streams of heaven’s rain.

Mountains of doubt dissolve in morning light,

As crystal dews of mercy kiss the height;

The lily pure, the rose of Sharon fair,

Proclaim His glory in the fragrant air.

O soul adrift on oceans wild and vast,

Where waves of trial crash and thunder blast—

Lift up thine eyes! The Pilot stands serene,

His voice commands the storm to calm, serene.

Through Jesus Christ, the skies forever blue,

Eternal sunshine bathes the ransomed few;

No eclipse dims the Lamb upon the throne,

Whose glory lights the city as His own.

The pilgrim’s path, though rugged, gleams with gold,

Each step a jewel in the crown foretold;

The ancient gates of pearl swing open wide,

Revealing pastures where the saints abide.

No winter’s chill, no autumn’s fading leaf,

But spring eternal, free from pain and grief—

In robes of white, beneath the endless day,

We bask forever in His shining ray.

Come, burdened one, beneath the yoke of care,

Lay down thy load; the Saviour’s yoke is fair.

His gentle hand will lead through fields of peace,

Where sorrows end and joys forever increase.

The chains of fear that bound the captive soul

Now melt like frost before His bright control;

In liberty divine, the spirit sings,

And soars on wings of love beneath His wings.

See heaven’s throne, where crystal rivers flow,

And trees of life in endless summer grow;

No need of sun or moon to give their light,

The Lamb Himself dispels all shades of night.

The ransomed throng in white arrayed proclaim,

“Worthy the Lamb that once for sinners slain!”

Their voices blend in everlasting praise,

Through endless ages, in undimmed blaze.

O death, where is thy sting? Thy victory lost!

The grave no more can claim its chilling frost.

For He who rose triumphant from the tomb

Has turned our midnight into endless noon.

The former things have passed, forgotten, gone;

Behold, all things are new in morning’s dawn.

Through Jesus Christ, the Victor over all,

Eternal sunshine crowns both great and small.

Awake, my soul, and sing this joyful strain,

Let every tongue repeat the glad refrain:

Through Jesus Christ, the Light that knows no end,

The King whose throne the heavens vast defend.

Come, weary one, and taste this joy divine—

Eternal sunshine, yours and ever mine!

No cloud shall dim, no storm shall ever rise,

In Christ alone our sun forever shines.

If Deliverance Delays for the People of Esther and Mordecai: The Iranian Serpent Reigns — Defined by Darkness by Debbie Harris

18 Thursday Jun 2026

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

These words were written with trembling hands and a heavy heart. In the spirit of Esther and Mordecai, this poem gives voice to a people once more standing beneath gallows raised by those who seek their total destruction. The demonic Muslim-led regime in Iran is a present terror, boasting annihilation while the world often turns away.

Yet I write with unshaken hope: the same Jesus who cast out demons, who broke the power of hell, and who rose victorious over every dark throne still reigns. His authority is greater than any serpent, any regime, any blood-red crescent. Even if deliverance tarries, the Lion of Judah — Jesus the Messiah — will have the final word. The night may devour for a season, but it cannot overcome the One who has already conquered sin, death, and every demonic force.

Pray with the remnant. Fast and cry out. Jesus holds the scroll of history and the keys of hell itself.

With solemn hope anchored in Christ,

The Poet

In shadowed chambers where the gallows loom,

The seed of Esther and Mordecai arise.

Beneath a tyrant’s blood-red crescent moon,

They lift their prayers against demonic skies.

Haman’s heirs in tunnels dark and deep,

With rocket’s shriek and suicide’s embrace,

Have sworn the ancient covenant to break

And blot out Jacob’s name from every place.

Yet sackcloth hearts in hidden rooms still fast,

Mothers, children, elders on their knees;

Their whispered pleas through tear and smoke ascend—

For if deliverance delays, what tragedy?

If freedom tarries, demonic horror reigns:

The serpent’s spawn will feast on blood and bone,

Cities turned to ash, the innocent slain,

A Holocaust renewed beneath their throne.

Mordecai still paces sleepless walls,

Esther dons her royal robes of faith;

“No accident this terror’s bitter hour—

For such a time as this,” the Spirit saith.

The serpent regime coils with poison breath,

Boasting death from Gaza’s pits to Tehran’s throne;

Yet Heaven’s ledger may still turn—or not—

The God of Purim sits upon His own.

O remnant of the Star and Shield, hold fast!

The dice of Haman roll across the land,

We do not know if freedom comes at last,

Or if the night devours us—yet defines us where we stand.

Sing, O Israel, though the night is long,

The scroll of Esther burns within your veins;

Each tefillah a hammer on the strong,

Each Shabbat candle breaks what darkness gains.

The Lion of Judah stirs—yet may stay still,

His roar withheld behind the veil of flame;

What man devised for evil, God alone will will—

Reversal dawns… or else the darkness claims.

From crimson banners torn and gallows built,

The wicked laugh upon the swords they drew;

Devoured or delivered, this trial defines us through and through—

We do not know if freedom comes… yet still we cry, O God, turn the plot… or we die.

**O Jesus, turn the plot—our hope is in Your might!**

The Silent Tragedy: When the Word Sin Is Eradicated from a Culture by Debbie Harris

06 Saturday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

From the poet:

In an age that has quietly erased the word sin from its vocabulary, I offer this poem not as condemnation, but as a solemn reminder and an urgent invitation. Once we lose the honest naming of our rebellion against God and His good order, we also lose the path to true forgiveness and restoration.

May these lines stir the conscience, awaken the heart, and turn every soul toward the only One who can save us from our sins—Jesus Christ our Lord.

Will you and I be among those who still dare to call sin sin, and thereby point a broken world to the Savior?

In elder days when thunder voiced the Law

And prophets walked the flinty roads of old,

The word sin rang as iron on the soul—

A blade that clove the heart, a bell of gold

That tolled repentance ere the grave grew cold.

Now from the common tongue the word is fled,

Like some archaic curse no longer named.

The pulpits soften, courts declare it dead,

And schools instruct the young: “No soul is blamed.”

All acts are neutral flowers, self-blessed, untamed.

O tragic void! Where once the pilgrim knelt

Beneath the weight of wrong and cried for grace,

Now mirrors only flatter, conscience melts

Into a mist of “feelings,” “choice,” and “space.”

No fall remains; thus no redemption waits.

The ancient bards knew better. Homer sang

Of wrath that spoiled the host and felled the brave;

Virgil beheld the guilty shades who clang

Their chains in Tartarus, unshriven, save

By memory of trespass and the grave.

Dante, fierce Florentine, with measured tread

Descended hell’s nine circles, naming each

By sin’s true name—fraud, lust, pride, the dread

Of treason’s frozen lake. No gentle speech

Could blunt the horror; truth alone could teach.

Milton, blind but seeing, raised his song

To justify the ways of God to men,

And showed how one transgression, vast and strong,

Brought death and all our woe. Yet even then

The greater arc of mercy rose again.

But strip away the word and what remains?

A culture sleek with self, where every vice

Is rechristened “lifestyle,” “identity,” or “gains.”

No prodigal returns; no broken cries

Ascend. The temple stands, but God’s house lies

In ruins of the tongue. The heart grows coarse,

Untroubled by the stain it will not see.

Ambition swells to empire without remorse,

And cruelty wears the mask of liberty.

The final darkness falls—yet no one flees.

Restore the word, sharp as a surgeon’s knife,

That cuts the canker out before it kills.

Let sin once more awaken mortal strife

Between the soul and its rebellious will,

Till humbled knees recall the ancient skill

Of seeking pardon. Only then may rise

The triumph of the Cross that ends all pain:

Forgiveness purchased at Redemption’s price,

Where sin confessed is washed in crimson rain,

And man, once fallen, stands upright again.

Will you and I be those who call sin sin,

Thereby pointing all to the Savior strong—

Who saves lost souls from every stain within

Through Jesus Christ our Lord, the endless song

Of grace that makes the broken whole, restored.

From Dust and Frailty to the Gem-Studded Garments of Salvation: A Hymn of Divine Clothing and Holy Awe by Debbie Harris

04 Thursday Jun 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Thanksgiving, Triumphant

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Note to the Reader from the Poet

Dear Reader,

In the quiet tension between creaturely frailty and divine generosity, this hymn was conceived. We stand perpetually before the paradox Scripture never lets us escape: we are dust — fragile, fleeting, marked by the fractures of original and ongoing sin — and yet the same Creator who fashioned us from the ground now stoops to array that very dust in garments of celestial splendor.

The poem does not merely celebrate a theological idea; it traces a transformative arc that mirrors the gospel itself. From the scattering wind of Psalm 103:14 and the weakness confessed in 2 Corinthians 12:9, through the empowering mercy of Isaiah 40 and the jeweled bridal splendor of Isaiah 61:10, it presses toward the astonishing promise of 2 Peter 1:4 — that we might become partakers of the divine nature. Each stanza is an act of remembrance and aspiration: remembering our low estate so that we might more fully adore the height of His condescension.

The gem-studded robe is no ornamental fancy. It is the righteousness of Christ, woven on heaven’s loom, encrusted with the blood-red ruby of atonement, the sapphire depths of unfailing grace, the emerald hope of resurrection life, and the diamond fire of covenant fidelity. To wear it is to walk in holy servanthood — yoked yet free, bowed yet exalted, weak yet wielding uncreated light.

May these lines not merely be read, but prayed. Speak them slowly in your secret place. Let the weight of your own dust press you deeper into the mercy that clothes you. Let the imagery carry you past sentiment into awe — speechless, trembling, joyful awe — before the throne where the Lamb slain stands worthy.

For the God who remembers we are dust has never forgotten us. He has clothed us instead, and called us His own.

With bowed heart and lifted eyes,

The Poet

Scriptural Foundation

Psalm 103:14 – We are dust

KJV: “For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.”

NIV: “For he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.”

AMP: “For He knows our [mortal] frame; He remembers that we are [merely] dust.”

2 Corinthians 12:9 – Strength in weakness

KJV: “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

NIV: “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”

AMP: “But He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you [My lovingkindness and My mercy are more than enough—always available—regardless of the situation]; for [My] power is being perfected [and is completed and shows itself most effectively] in [your] weakness.’”

Isaiah 40:29 – Power to the faint

KJV: “He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.”

NIV: “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.”

AMP: “He gives strength to the weary, And to him who has no might He increases power.”

Isaiah 61:10 – Garments of salvation and robe of righteousness

KJV: “I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels.”

NIV: “I delight greatly in the LORD; my soul rejoices in my God. For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness, as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.”

AMP: “I will rejoice greatly in the LORD, My soul will exult in my God; For He has clothed me with garments of salvation, He has covered me with a robe of righteousness, As a bridegroom puts on a turban, And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.”

2 Peter 1:4 – Partakers of the divine nature

KJV: “Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature…”

NIV: “Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature…”

AMP: “For by these He has bestowed on us His precious and magnificent promises [of inexpressible value], so that by them you may… become sharers of the divine nature.”

O Lord, we are but dust the wind may strew,

Frail clay unformed, by sin’s dark tempest torn,

Yet from Thy throne where living mercies dew,

Thy hand descends — and we, once lost, are born.

Thy strength, a flame that leaps through shadowed veins,

Arrays our tatters in celestial white;

The yoke of holy service gently reigns,

And lifts the bowed to wield unyielding light.

No more the slave beneath the fleshly rod,

We stand enrobed in righteousness divine —

A garment vast, by heaven’s own shuttle shod,

With jewels blazing where Thy glories shine.

See rubies red as covenantal blood,

Sapphires deep as oceans of Thy grace;

Emeralds green with hope’s eternal flood,

And pearls like tears that washed the sinner’s face.

Amethysts of awe crown every seam,

Diamonds of pardon flash with sovereign fire;

Upon the hem where healing virtues stream,

The living waters spark in ceaseless choir.

Before Thy throne we bow, in dust made bold,

Adoring hearts too vast for tongue to tell;

In speechless awe Thy righteousness behold,

And join the ransomed in their triumph swell.

Though dust we be, and frailty our first name,

Thy servant-power makes kings of earthen clods;

Clad in salvation’s jewel-woven flame,

We rise, redeemed — partakers of our God.

Glory to the Lamb who clothes the lost!

Delight in the Royally Redeemed: A Poetic Meditation on Psalm 16 and the Royal Priesthood of Believers by Debbie Harris

04 Thursday Jun 2026

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Psalm 16:3-4 (KJV)

As for the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all my delight.

Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after another god: their drink offerings of blood will I not offer, nor take up their names into my lips.

Psalm 16:3-4 (NIV)

I say of the holy people who are in the land,

“They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.”

Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more.

I will not pour out libations of blood to such gods

or take up their names on my lips.

Psalm 16:3-4 (AMP)

As for the saints (godly people) who are in the land,

They are the majestic and the noble and the excellent ones in whom is all my delight.

The sorrows [pain and suffering] of those who have chosen another god will be multiplied [because of their idolatry];

I will not pour out their drink offerings of blood,

Nor will I take their names upon my lips.

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.

1 Peter 2:9 (NIV)

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

1 Peter 2:9 (AMP)

But you are A CHOSEN RACE, A royal PRIESTHOOD, A CONSECRATED NATION, A [special] PEOPLE FOR God’s OWN POSSESSION, so that you may proclaim the excellencies [the wonderful deeds and virtues and perfections] of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.

Dear Reader,

In the quiet tension between ancient covenant and present exile, this poem was born—not as mere ornament, but as an act of re-seeing. Psalm 16 unveils a profound paradox: the psalmist’s delight is not first in abstract divinity, but in the concrete, embodied community of the saints—those majestic, noble, and excellent ones who bear the scars and splendor of redemption. When Peter later declares us a royal priesthood, he does not invent a new identity; he unfolds what David glimpsed. The “royally redeemed” are no romantic ideal. They are flesh-and-blood bearers of divine kingship, purchased at infinite cost, set apart amid a world that still bows to bloodless yet deadly idols: power, spectacle, self, certainty, distraction.

To delight in them is an act of spiritual resistance and profound joy. It is to choose the excellent over the easy, the rooted cedar over the fleeting vine, the star-cluster of holy kinship over the isolated glow of false gods. The poem lingers in this tension because our age multiplies sorrows precisely where David warned—through frantic pursuit of lesser loves that promise everything and deliver chains. Yet in the company of the royally redeemed, sorrow is transfigured; majesty emerges not despite the storm but through it.

May these lines invite you not only to admire beauty, but to inhabit it—to recognize your own royal bearing, to cleave to the noble ones around you, and to refuse, with quiet defiance, every name that would steal your tongue and heart. In their light, we taste already the Kingdom that is coming, where delight is no longer contested but complete.

With reverence for the Word and wonder at the saints,

The Poet

In realms where covenantal glory gleams,

The royally redeemed arise in splendor bright,

As ancient cedars robed in heaven’s light,

Majestic pillars carved by sovereign hands.

Noble in bearing, excellent in grace,

They stand as jewels upon the sacred crown,

A royal priesthood, ransomed from the night,

In whom the psalmist’s deepest joys abound.

Their footsteps trace the paths of covenant love,

Like rivers carving valleys rich with life;

Redeemed by blood far purer than the stain

Of idol altars drenched in crimson rite.

He sees their worth as stars in clustered throng,

A holy nation bathed in royal hue,

Excellent souls whose light dispels the gloom,

And draws his heart in glad, unwavering tune.

Yet swift the shadows claim the errant soul

Who hastens after gods of dust and gold;

Their sorrows swell as tempests rend the plain,

Like thorns that choke the once-fertile field.

He turns from crimson cups that bleed for naught,

Nor lifts their shadowed names upon his tongue,

Lest chains of darkness bind the spirit’s flight

And mar the royal song of true delight.

O royally redeemed, majestic band,

You shine as beacons on the pilgrim’s way—

Noble in trial, excellent in faith,

A fellowship where living waters play.

Through tempests fierce and valleys veiled in shade,

Your rooted strength upholds the chosen few;

The psalmist cleaves to you with steadfast gaze,

Where truth endures and grace forever reigns.

Thus blooms the ancient verse in timeless fire,

A hymn to loyalty’s unyielding flame:

The heart that rests in holy kin refined

Rejects the hollow lure of fleeting fame.

In you, O royally redeemed and bright,

Majestic, noble, excellent and true,

The singer finds his purest, holiest light—

A foretaste of the Kingdom ever new.

What the Lord Truly Requires: Loving Mercy That Embraces Truth, Rejects Deception, and Calls All to Eternal Redemption by Debbie Harris

04 Thursday Jun 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed, salvation, Spiritual Warfare, Triumphant

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Micah 6:8 (KJV)

He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?

Micah 6:8 (AMP)

He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you Except to be just, and to love [and to diligently practice] kindness (compassion), And to walk humbly with your God [setting aside any overconfident trust in your own power]?

Ephesians 4:15 (KJV)

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

Ephesians 4:15 (AMP)

But speaking the truth in love [in all things—both our speech and our lives expressing His truth], let us grow up in all things into Him [following His example], who is the Head—Christ.

2 Peter 3:9 (KJV)

The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

2 Peter 3:9 (AMP)

The Lord does not delay [as though He were unable to act] and is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is [extraordinarily] patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.

Ezekiel 33:11 (KJV)

Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?

John 8:32 (KJV)

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

John 14:6 (KJV)

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

1 Timothy 2:3-4 (KJV)

For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour; Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth.

Beloved reader, true mercy is no shallow sentiment or convenient silence that shields the soul from holy confrontation. It is the profound fusion of unflinching truth and unwavering love, the very heartbeat of the Divine requirement laid bare in Micah 6:8. To love mercy is not to soften justice or dilute conviction, but to wield truth as a surgeon’s blade—cutting away deception so that real healing and restoration may emerge. It echoes the apostle’s call to speak the truth in love, maturing us into Christ Himself, while reflecting the Father’s longsuffering heart that desires none to perish but all to embrace repentance and life.

In this sacred tension, mercy refuses the lie of false tolerance that leaves sinners slumbering toward destruction; instead, it shines the unyielding light of Christ—the Way, the Truth, and the Life—inviting every heart to freedom, transformation, and eternal communion with God. It yearns for God’s highest good for all: not mere happiness, but salvation, holiness, and humble fellowship with the Creator. May these verses and the lines that follow stir within you a deeper hunger to embody this costly, redemptive mercy: courageous enough to confront, compassionate enough to restore, and Christ-centered enough to point always toward the cross where justice and mercy kissed.

What doth the Lord require, O mortal man?

To do justly, love mercy’s truthful hand,

And walk humbly where His footsteps ran—

For mercy speaks the truth, yet takes its stand.

Not soft deceit that lets the sinner sleep,

But light that wounds to heal, and calls to rise;

True mercy longs for all God’s best to keep—

Salvation’s gift, where grace and justice rise.

He wills not one should perish in the night,

But turns to life through truth that sets us free;

Compassion clothes the soul in heaven’s light,

And bids the lost: “Come home and live in Me.”

Thus mercy, truth, and humble faith entwine—

The path of life, the will of the Divine

The Tragic Threshold Where Mercy Withholds Its Pearls: Reflections on the Reprobate Soul by Debbie Harris

01 Monday Jun 2026

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Dear Reader,

These lines were born in the quiet hour when the soul weighs the weight of Scripture against the hardness of our age. The command of our Lord in Matthew 7:6 — “Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine” — is not a counsel of despair, but of divine wisdom and mercy. There comes a tragic threshold where continued striving with the reprobate mind no longer serves the cause of grace; it only deepens judgment and wounds the giver.

I have written not to condemn, but to sober the heart of the faithful. May you discern the soil before you sow. May you guard the sacred treasure when the mire threatens to swallow it. And may you never cease praying for those still within reach of repentance, even as you learn, with holy restraint, when to withhold the pearl.

In solemn hope and trembling reverence,

The Poet

In shadowed vales where reprobate minds roam,

Defiant hearts reject the light of Truth,

They spurn the Word that calls the sinner home,

And trample sacred lore beneath their hoof.

The Gospel’s pearls, like dew on morning’s rose,

Are offered pure to souls that thirst for grace;

Yet when the ear grows deaf and conscience closed,

The hand of Heaven stays its giving place.

“Forbear,” the Master whispers from on high,

“Cast not these gems where swine in mire wallow;

They turn again and rend the giver’s thigh,

Then rend the holy seed in fury shallow.”

O tragic point where mercy’s door swings shut,

Where love itself must sheath its shining blade!

The reprobate, in chains of self-made rut,

Chooses the dark, and darkness is repaid.

So tread with wisdom on this mortal sod,

Discern the soil ere scattering the seed;

For some will bloom beneath the grace of God,

While others mock—and God Himself will heed.

Hold fast the pearls; reserve them for the meek,

Who hunger after righteousness alone.

The swine may rage, the blinded never seek—

But Heaven’s treasury is not overthrown.

Do You Know Jesus Christ As Your Personal Lord And Saviour? by Debbie Harris

01 Monday Jun 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational

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Dear Reader,

I wrote this poem as a simple, heartfelt invitation — not as judgment, but as a loving question that has changed my own life. In a noisy world full of distractions, I believe this is one of the most important things we can ever ask another soul.

My deepest desire as the poet is to take as many people to Heaven as possible. That journey begins with repenting of our sins and accepting Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour — the only way to receive His forgiveness, new life, and the promise of eternity with Him.

May these words stir something deep inside you.

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

— Mark 8:36-37 (KJV)

Do you know Jesus?

He is full of life, light, truth, and grace.

Do you know Jesus?

This is the question we should ask

every soul we meet—

rich or poor, strong or weak.

Do you know Jesus?

The One who calms the storm inside,

who breaks the chains we try to hide.

Do you know Jesus?

Come and see, come and taste

the living hope, the endless feast.

Do you know Jesus?

Abhor That Which Is Evil and Cleave to That Which Is Good by Debbie Harris

31 Sunday May 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational

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A Brief Introduction

In an age that often prizes tolerance above truth and relevance above righteousness, Romans 12:9 calls believers to a higher standard: sincere, undissembled love that fiercely abhors evil and tenaciously cleaves to good. This poem echoes that ancient charge, reminding us that holy hatred of sin—paired with Christlike grace—guards the church, strengthens communities, and preserves godly culture.

Romans 12:9 (KJV) “Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good.”

Romans 12:21 (KJV) “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Ephesians 5:11 (KJV) “And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.”

Proverbs 8:13 (KJV) “The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth, do I hate.”

Psalm 97:10 (KJV) “Ye that love the Lord, hate evil: he preserveth the souls of his saints…”

Let love be undissembled, pure and bright,

As dawn’s first ray that brooks no shade of night;

No honeyed tongue that hides a viper’s tooth,

But heart with heart in covenant of truth.

Abhor the evil — loathe it as the grave

Loathes life, as darkness hates the light it craves.

Not mild distaste, nor tolerance’s truce,

Nor relevance that bends the holy use

To fit the fleeting fashions of the age

And make the narrow way seem broad and sage.

With holy hatred scorch the creeping lie,

The lust that turns the temple into sty,

The envy’s gall, the pride that topples thrones,

The greed that gnaws the marrow from men’s bones,

The sloth that chokes the good seed ere it rise,

The wrath that blinds both justice and mercy’s eyes.

Cast out as dross what God has named unclean,

For we are called to abhor, not to convene

With darkness in the name of love or peace —

No compromise where holy wrath must cease.

Thus altars stand, thus cultures are preserved,

When evil is detested and not served.

O cleave to good! As shipwrecked sailor clings

To rock amid the tempest’s furious wings;

As ivy grips the ancient oak in hold,

As magnet leaps to steel with joy untold.

Cleave to the truth that sets the captive free,

To justice robed in pure integrity,

To mercy that forgives yet calls sin sin,

To courage that will die ere it give in.

Thus churches rise, unshaken on the stone,

Not seeker-pleasing, not to trends conformed,

But faithful pillars where the Word is throned,

Unbent by winds however fierce or warm.

Thus communities, like ramparts old and high,

Defy the flood when evil men decry;

Thus cultures flourish, rooted deep in grace,

And nations walk where heaven shows its face.

Awake, O watchers! Lift the trumpet’s blast,

Call out the canker ere the harvest’s past.

With love’s fierce fire and Christ-like tears of grace,

Expose the darkness, occupy the space

Where good must grow. Hate sin, yet love the soul;

Reprove, restore, and make the wounded whole.

For in this balance — love without disguise,

Abhorring evil, scorning compromise,

Rejecting tolerance of what defiles

And relevance that only breeds more wiles —

The image of our Maker shines once more,

And heaven’s pattern treads the earthly floor.

So guard the hearth, the altar, and the line,

Till Christ returns in glory all-divine.