Tag Archives: holiness

The Precious Word of God: An Epic in Heroic Couplets on the Divine Allegories of Scripture by Debbie Harris

20 Friday Mar 2026

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O Holy Spirit, breathe upon my soul,
Inspire these lines to make Thy glories whole!
Open our eyes to see, our hearts to burn,
As once Thou didst when ancient prophets learned.

In countless forms Thy living Word appears,
More rich than treasures, brighter than the spheres.
First, living Bread from heaven’s table sent,
When man by earthly food alone is spent.
“Man shall not live by bread alone,” He cried,
But by each word from God’s own mouth supplied.
Thus souls are nourished where all else would fail,
And life eternal springs where death prevailed.

More precious Gold than Ophir’s hidden store,
Refined seven times, its purity evermore.
Like Silver tested in the furnace flame,
Its truth endures, untainted, without blame.
A hidden Treasure buried in the field,
For which the finder sells all else to yield;
With joy he purchases that matchless gain,
And heaven’s riches flood his heart again.

As Fire it burns with purifying blaze,
Consuming dross, yet kindling holy praise.
A Hammer mighty, breaking stubborn stone,
Shattering hearts where pride has claimed its throne.
Both fire and hammer from one source proceed—
The Word that wounds, yet heals the soul in need:
It crushes sin, then lights the inward flame—
O wondrous work of mercy and of claim!

Sweet Honey flows from out the Rock divine,
Sweeter than any comb where bees entwine.
No earthly sweetness matches such delight;
It cheers the weary, turns the dark to light.
A Lamp it shines to guide the pilgrim’s way,
A steady gleam through night’s most perilous fray;
“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet,” we sing,
A Light unto my path—O Light of kings!

Strong Meat it offers those mature in grace,
Who press beyond the cradle to the race.
Yet Milk it gives the newborn child of God,
Pure, gentle, growing faith where once we trod.
A Mirror true, no flattering lie it shows,
Revealing heart and conscience as it glows;
The one who looks and forgets his true face
Remains unchanged; the doer finds God’s grace.

As Medicine it heals the broken frame,
Life to the seeker, health to all who claim;
Its balm restores where sickness held its reign,
And makes the wounded spirit whole again.

As Seed it falls on every kind of ground—
By wayside, rocks, or thorns where weeds abound—
Yet in the good soil, fertile, deep, and true,
It springs to life, a hundred-fold anew.
Like Rain and Snow from heaven’s heights it falls,
Descending soft to answer heaven’s calls;
It waters earth, makes deserts bloom and sing,
Accomplishes God’s will in everything—
No empty return, but harvest rich and vast,
The Word that crowns the future and the past!

A Sword of the Spirit, two-edged, keen, and bright,
It pierces soul and spirit, wrong from right;
In warfare fierce against the powers of night,
The saint wields it—and claims the victor’s right!

And living Water, crystal, pure, and free,
It washes clean where guilt once stained the knee.
The Word as water sanctifies the bride,
No spot, no wrinkle left when once applied.

Thus every form Thy precious Word assumes:
Bread, gold, and silver; treasure, fire, and blooms
Of honey; lamp and light, and hammer’s claim;
Meat, milk, and mirror, medicine’s healing name;
Seed, rain, and snow, sword, water—rich and vast.
All meet in Thee—the soul redeemed at last.

O seeking soul, forsake the world’s poor gain!
Embrace this Word and never thirst again.
Let every image—feed, refine, reveal,
Heal, plant, and cleanse—Thy heart and mind anneal,
Till Christ alone is formed in thee complete,
And endless glory crowns the Word we meet!

When Dagon Fell Twice: A Narrative of Divine Triumph Over Philistine Idolatry by Debbie Harris

12 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Royally Redeemed

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In Ashdod’s walls, where Philistine pride did swell,
The ark of Israel’s God they bore as captive prize,
Triumph’s trophy from Ebenezer’s field of blood,
Where once the Hebrews fled and thousands died.
Into the house of Dagon, fish-tailed deity,
Lord of grain and sea, they placed the sacred chest,
Beside his graven form of stone and gilded pride,
As if Jehovah bowed to Dagon’s manifest.

Yet when the dawn with rosy fingers touched the east,
And priests of Ashdod rose to greet their god anew,
Behold! Dagon lay prostrate, fallen face to earth,
Before the ark of Him whose name is ever true.
No storm had raged, no mortal hand had struck the blow—
Silent the night, yet dread the judgment wrought unseen.
They lifted up the broken idol, set him straight,
And trembled not, but thought the fall a chance obscene.

The second morn returned, more terrible than first:
Again the threshold showed the god in ruin low,
Fallen full upon his face before the ark divine,
His head cut off, his hands of power severed so,
Lying upon the very step where men must tread—
Only the headless, handless trunk of Dagon stood,
A mutilated stump, a mockery of might,
While Israel’s God in silence reigned as understood.

Thus was the idol-god obliterated twice:
First bowed in homage, then in pieces dashed apart;
His sovereignty decapitated, hands of strength removed,
His power broken by an invisible, almighty dart.
No craftsman’s tool, no warrior’s blade had wrought this doom—
The hand of the Lord alone had dealt the stroke unseen,
Proving that wood and stone, though carved with pomp and gold,
Before the living God are but as dust and dream.

Therefore the priests of Dagon, and all who cross that hall,
To this day shun the threshold where his fragments fell,
Lest they should tread upon the relics of his shame,
And feel the weight of judgment none can quell.
For there the Lord declared, in emblem stark and plain,
That false gods crumble when His presence draws near;
Dagon lies shattered, headless, handless, overthrown—
The Lord of Hosts alone shall reign, no rival near.

Ho, Every Thirsty SoulFive Poetic Explorations of Divine Abundance, Repentance, and Creation’s Jubilant Response in Isaiah 55 by Debbie Harris

07 Saturday Mar 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Praise, Royally Redeemed, salvation

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Ho, Every Thirsty Soul: Five Poetic Explorations of Isaiah 55

In a world full of empty promises and fleeting satisfactions, Isaiah 55 stands as one of the Bible’s most radiant invitations: “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters… buy wine and milk without money and without price.” This chapter pulses with grace—free pardon, an everlasting covenant, thoughts higher than our own, and the unshakable promise that God’s word “shall not return to Me void” but will accomplish every purpose He sends it to fulfill.

To honor its prophetic beauty and depth, I’ve crafted five distinct poetic renditions of Isaiah 55, each in a different form:

  • A classic hymn in Common Meter (ABAB quatrains)
  • Modern rhyming couplets with a powerful refrain on verse 11
  • Sonnet-inspired sections with dramatic turns
  • Dignified blank verse in unrhymed iambic pentameter
  • A hypnotic pantoum of interlocking repetitions

Together they trace the chapter’s arc—from desperate thirst to cosmic jubilation—while placing special emphasis on the triumphant certainty of God’s effective word (v. 11), where rain and snow become metaphors for unstoppable divine purpose.

Whether for personal devotion, group study, worship inspiration, or quiet reflection, these poems seek to make the ancient oracle sing anew. Read, listen, and let the invitation draw you near.

1. Common Meter Hymn – ABAB Quatrains (8.6.8.6)

Title: Come, Every Soul That’s Parched and Poor
Form Summary: Traditional hymn structure in alternating rhyme (ABAB) and Common Meter (8-6-8-6 syllables), evoking classic congregational singing like Isaac Watts or Charles Wesley—balanced, singable, and familiar for worship or recitation.

Come, every soul that’s parched and poor,
Draw near the waters flowing free;
No silver needed at the door—
Buy wine and milk abundantly.

Why spend your wages on mere bread
That fails to fill, that fades away?
Come feast instead where souls are fed,
Delight in what will never stray.

Incline your ear, draw close to Me,
And live the life that death defies;
My covenant with David see—
Steadfast mercies that never die.

Seek while I’m near, call while I’m found,
Forsake the wicked path you trod;
Return to Me—grace will abound,
Pardon from our forgiving God.

My thoughts not yours, My ways so vast,
As heavens rise above the sod;
My plans endure when yours are past,
Beyond the reach of mortal nod.

As rain and snow from heaven fall
And do not hurry back on high,
They water earth and bless it all,
Bring seed to sprout beneath the sky—
So My word from My mouth proceeds,
It shall not to Me void return;
It will accomplish all My needs,
Succeed in every aim I yearn.
No force can stop its fruitful course,
It prospers what I send it for—
Unfailing power, without remorse,
Brings life forever, evermore.

Then joy shall lead you forth in peace,
The hills break song, the mountains ring;
Trees clap their hands in wild release,
Where thorns once grew, new life shall spring.

This everlasting sign shall stand,
My name proclaimed through every age—
The grace that calls across the land,
Turns wilderness to verdant stage.

2. AABB Couplets with Refrain

Title: My Word Goes Out and Will Not Fail
Form Summary: Modern rhyming couplets (AABB) throughout, with a dedicated repeating refrain centered on verse 11—creates a song-like, memorable drive with built-in emphasis on the unstoppable power of God’s word, ideal for contemporary worship or spoken-word delivery.

Come, thirsty ones, come hungry, come near,
Waters are waiting, crystal and clear.
No money required, no price to pay,
Wine, milk, and bread—freely today.

Why chase after nothing, why labor in vain,
For food that crumbles, for fleeting gain?
Listen and eat what truly satisfies,
Let your soul feast where richness lies.

Draw close and hear, incline your ear,
Live the true life, cast out all fear.
My promise to David, faithful and sure,
Covenant everlasting, forever secure.

Nations will hasten, drawn by My light,
Glory upon you, shining so bright.

Seek Me while near, call while you can,
Turn from your sin, embrace My plan.
Mercy abundant, pardon so wide—
Come back to your God, let grace abide.

My thoughts are higher, My ways divine,
Beyond your small dreams, beyond your design.

Refrain
My word goes out and will not fail,
It won’t return empty, weak, or pale.
It does what I purpose, prospers My will,
Accomplishes all—unstoppable still.
Rain and snow nourish, then they return,
So My word succeeds, let the truth burn.

Joy will escort you, peace lead the way,
Mountains will sing, hills shout hooray.
Trees clap in triumph, thorns turn to trees,
Myrtle and cypress sway in the breeze.

An everlasting sign, My name endures,
Grace calls the thirsty, forever assures.

3. Sonnet-Inspired Sections with Volta Turns

Title: The Waters Call You Near
Form Summary: Three quatrains followed by couplet “turns” (volta moments) in a loose Shakespearean-inspired structure—builds dramatic progression with shifts at transcendence, the word’s power, and final joy; literary and contemplative.

The thirsty, the empty, the broken, draw near—
Waters abundant, no coin to exchange;
Wine gladdens hearts, milk mends what is drear,
Bread for the soul—no need to arrange.

Why pour out labor on husks that decay,
Chasing mirages that mock and evade?
Hearken instead, feast richly today,
Delight in the fatness no market has made.

I offer a covenant, David’s own kind—
Mercies unchanging, a witness to all;
Nations will run, by My glory entwined,
Seek while I’m near, before shadows befall.

Let wicked forsake crooked roads and dark thought,
Return to your God—pardon flows like a flood.

My thoughts tower high, My ways far above,
As heavens o’er earth in vast wonder extend;
Rain falls, snow drifts, fulfilling their love—
So My word departs and returns not unbent.

It accomplishes all that My heart has designed,
Prosperous, certain, no purpose declined.

Then joy overflows, peace guards every stride,
Hills burst in song, trees clap side by side;
Thorns yield to cypress, briers to myrtle’s pride—
An eternal sign that grace has arrived.

4. Blank Verse (Unrhymed Iambic Pentameter)

Title: So Shall My Word Go Forth
Form Summary: Unrhymed iambic pentameter in continuous flow—dignified, epic, and meditative like Milton or Shakespeare; allows pure prophetic gravity without rhyme’s musical distraction, emphasizing the solemn weight of the text.

Come, every soul athirst in barren lands,
Draw near the waters that forever flow,
Unpurchased wine to cheer the heavy heart,
And milk to strengthen what despair has worn.
Why spend your substance for that which is not bread,
Your labor’s fruit on what cannot satisfy?
Incline your ear and come to Me and eat;
Let your soul feast upon the good I give.

Hear now and live—the life beyond mere breath—
I make with you My covenant of grace,
The steadfast mercies promised unto David.
Behold, I set him witness to the world,
A prince and leader nations will obey.

Seek the Lord while He may yet be found,
Call upon Him while He is drawing near.
Let the wicked forsake his evil way,
The unrighteous his thoughts—return to God,
And He will have compassion, pardon free.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways exalted over yours,
My thoughts beyond the grasp of mortal mind.

As rain and snow descend from heaven’s height
And do not rise again until they drench
The waiting soil, awaken seed to life,
Give bread to eat and grain for sowing time—
So shall My word go forth from out My mouth:
It shall not to Me void or empty come,
But it shall do the thing that I intend,
Accomplish every purpose I dispatch.
Irresistible, it carves through stone and doubt,
Brings forth its harvest, certain and complete.

Then you shall go in joy that knows no bound,
Led forth in peace that watches every step.
The mountains sing, the hills break into praise;
The trees of field clap hands in wild acclaim.
Where thorn and brier once wounded pilgrim feet,
The cypress rises tall, the myrtle spreads—
An everlasting sign, My name endures,
Proof of the grace that calls the thirsty home.

5. Pantoum (Interlocking Repetition)

Title: The Waters Call You Near (Echoes of Grace)
Form Summary: Pantoum with repeating lines that interlock across stanzas—creates hypnotic, circular emphasis, especially suiting the certainty and return motif of verse 11; experimental and meditative, like a chant that builds assurance.

Come, all who thirst, the waters call you near,
No price to pay, no empty purse required.
Buy wine and milk, let satisfaction cheer,
Why chase the husks that leave the soul expired?

No price to pay, no empty purse required,
My thoughts are not your thoughts, My ways divine.
Why chase the husks that leave the soul expired?
As rain descends, so does My word align.

My thoughts are not your thoughts, My ways divine,
My word goes forth and shall not return void.
As rain descends, so does My word align,
It prospers all the purpose I employed.

My word goes forth and shall not return void,
It accomplishes exactly what I please.
It prospers all the purpose I employed,
Unfailing harvest, joy that never cease.

It accomplishes exactly what I please,
Buy wine and milk, let satisfaction cheer.
Unfailing harvest, joy that never cease—
Come, all who thirst, the waters call you near.

Come to the Waters(Isaiah 55 – Contemporary Couplets) by Debbie Harris

07 Saturday Mar 2026

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

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Come, all you thirsty, worn and dry,
Step up to waters flowing by.
No cash in hand? It doesn’t matter—
Buy wine and milk, free from the platter.
Why waste your money, waste your days
On food that vanishes, on empty praise?
Listen instead, come close and feed
Your soul on goodness guaranteed.

Lean in to hear what I will say,
And live the life that won’t decay.
I’ll make with you a bond that lasts,
The faithful love from David’s past.
I’ll raise you up, a light to show,
Nations will run where they don’t know—
Because My glory clothes your frame,
The Holy One has called your name.

Seek Me now while I am found,
Call on Me while I’m around.
Let wicked ways be left behind,
Abandon thoughts that twist the mind.
Turn back to Me—I’ll pour out grace,
Forgive you in My vast embrace.

My thoughts aren’t yours, My ways so high,
They tower far beyond the sky.
Like heaven’s vault above the ground,
My plans stretch wide, profound, unbound.

Just watch the rain and snow descend,
They don’t rush back—they serve their end:
They soak the earth, they make it wake,
Bring seed to sprout for harvest’s sake.
So My word goes out from My lips,
It never falters, never slips.
It won’t come back to Me in vain,
Empty, defeated, or restrained.
It does exactly what I please,
Succeeds in every aim I seize—
Unstoppable, alive, complete,
It carves the path, it claims defeat,
Brings life to deserts, hope to stone,
And turns the lost ones safely home.

Then joy will lead you out in song,
Peace will guard where you belong.
The hills will shout, the mountains ring,
Trees clap their hands and wildly sing.
Thorns and briers fade away,
Cypress and myrtle take their place.
This sign will stand through every age—
My name endures, My grace the stage

The Great Invitation: A Canticle of Grace(An exalted poetic meditation on Isaiah 55) by Debbie Harris

07 Saturday Mar 2026

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

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Ho! Every thirsting spirit, every hollow heart in the dust—
Come! The waters rise unbidden, crystalline, inexhaustible,
From hidden fountains deeper than exile’s night, purer than forgotten dawn.
Come, though your coins are spent, your sacks hang empty,
Come buy—yes, buy!—without silver, without barter, without shame.
Wine that kindles joy in veins grown cold,
Milk that knits the broken frame and floods the famished soul,
Bread that satisfies where shadows once feasted.
Why squander sweat on chaff that scatters?
Why trade your labor for husks that mock the tongue,
For bread that turns to ash between the teeth,
For fleeting mirage that leaves the palate parched?
Hearken—O hearken with the inward ear that never sleeps—
And eat what is good; let your soul delight in fatness unmeasured,
In richness no market can weigh, no vault can hoard.

Bend low your ear, draw near, draw nearer still to Me;
Listen, and live—live the life that death cannot touch.
I seal with you My covenant eternal,
The loyal kindnesses sworn to David My servant—
Mercies steadfast as the polar star, sure as the turning seasons.
Behold: I have appointed him witness to the multitudes,
Prince and commander to peoples yet unnamed.
Nations you have never summoned will run to you,
Drawn by the splendor that clothes you,
Because the Holy One of Israel has exalted you,
Has set His glory upon you like a crown of living light.

Seek the Lord while breath still finds Him near,
While the door of seeking stands ajar.
Call upon Him while He may yet be called.
Let the wicked forsake his crooked path,
The man of iniquity abandon his venomous designs;
Let him return—return wholly—to the Lord,
And compassion will cascade upon him like thunder-rains after drought.
To our God let him turn, for He pardons with prodigal abundance—
Pardon wider than the sea’s embrace, deeper than the graves of memory.

For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor your ways My ways, says the Eternal Flame.
As the vaulted heavens tower immeasurable above this trembling dust,
So My ways rise exalted, My thoughts stretch vast—
Beyond the narrow compass of mortal fear,
Beyond the frantic calculus of earthbound minds.

See how the rain falls, how the snow descends from the high chambers of heaven:
They do not climb back until they have drenched the parched ground,
Until they have quickened seed to sprout, swelled bud to blossom,
Given seed to the sower, bread to the hungry mouth.
So My word proceeds from My mouth—
It shall not return to Me barren, void, or thwarted.
It shall accomplish the delight of My will,
Prosper in the purpose for which I dispatched it—
Irresistible as rivers that sculpt canyons through centuries,
Unfailing as the first light that shatters the longest dark.

Then you shall march forth in joy that cannot be contained,
Led forth in peace that stands sentinel at every step.
The mountains and hills shall erupt in song before you,
Bursting into melody fierce and jubilant;
All the trees of the field shall clap their hands in thunderous acclaim,
Limbs lifted like banners in the wind of triumph.
Where once the thorn drew blood and the brier tore the pilgrim’s flesh,
The stately cypress shall rise, fragrant and evergreen;
Where nettle choked the way and desolation reigned,
The myrtle shall spread verdant, resilient, and fair.
This transformation shall endure as an everlasting sign,
A name unfading for the Lord of Hosts,
A monument hewn not by hands, unshakable by time—
Eternal witness to the grace that summoned the thirsty home,
And turned the wilderness into a garden of unending praise.

Swallowed and TransfiguredThe Contemplative Act Whereby Ezekiel Partook of the Scroll of Woeand Discovered the Hidden Sweetness of Union with the Divine Will by Debbie Harris

15 Sunday Feb 2026

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Ezekiel 2:9–10
Then I looked, and behold, a hand was extended to me; and behold, a scroll of a book was in it. When He spread it out before me, it was written on the front and back, and written on it were lamentations, mourning, and woe.

Ezekiel 3:1–3
And He said to me, “Son of man, eat what you find; eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and He fed me this scroll. He said to me, “Son of man, feed your stomach and fill your body with this scroll which I am giving you.” Then I ate it, and it was sweet as honey in my mouth.

Ezekiel 3:14
So the Spirit lifted me up and took me away; and I went embittered in the rage of my spirit, and the hand of the Lord was strong on me.

No gentle volume offered to the hand,
No silken page to turn with measured care:
A scroll unfurled in flame, on either hand
Lamentation, mourning, woe laid bare.

“Son of man,” the voice resounds through bone,
“Eat what lies before thee—fill thy frame.
Devour the writing, leave no line unshown,
Make judgment’s ink the substance of thy name.”

I parted lips as one who meets his fate,
And took the roll entire upon my tongue;
The taste of honey flooded palate, throat,
While gall of sorrow pressed where breath is sung.

Yet sweeter grew the sweetness as I chewed—
Not honey stolen from the summer comb,
But honey born of perfect will subdued,
Of love that wounds to heal the heart’s deep home.

O mystery of eating strange and deep!
The Word descends not to the outward ear,
But deeper, past the tongue’s dividing keep,
Into the belly’s cavern dark and sheer.

There in the crypt of self the scroll dissolves,
Its bitter script transmuted into light;
What once was woe the inner furnace solves,
And turns to sweetness burning through the night.

No longer separate, the man and message blend—
The prophet is the lament he must bear;
His sinews bear the weight that God would send,
His breath the very sigh of heaven’s prayer.

Thus swallowed whole, the soul is lifted high,
Transfigured in the act of full consent;
The hidden sweetness blooms where tears once lie,
And union with the Will is sacrament.

Let others skim the surface of the page,
Debate its edges, quote its phrases bright:
The true disciple enters that fierce stage
Where eating is the only way to sight.

For God requires not admirers mild,
Nor connoisseurs of sacred text and lore—
He seeks the one whose inmost self is styled
By every syllable the scroll once bore.

So eat, O pilgrim, let the honey stay,
Though sorrow churn the stomach in its course;
The Word, once taken in, will never stray—
It is the life, the way, the very source.

Not Hearers Who Forget, But Doers Who Persevere: Freedom Flowing from Finished Grace by Debbie Harris

15 Sunday Feb 2026

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Do not be hearers only, swift to forget,
But doers of the word implanted deep within;
For in the gospel’s glass your true face is set—
A new creation, cleansed from every sin.

The old law bound with chains of condemnation,
Exposed the flaw but offered no release;
Yet Christ has fulfilled it—perfect liberation—
The law of liberty, granting perfect peace.

Look long into this mirror, see who you are:
Righteous in Him, beloved, fully known;
Not striving now to earn the Father’s star,
But resting in the grace that He has shown.

If you forget and walk as slaves once more,
Deceived by shadows of the former night,
But persevering, acting from His store,
You find the blessing—freedom’s pure delight.

No threat of failure haunts the child of God,
No pressure weighs upon the ransomed soul;
The doing flows from what the cross has bought—
Alive in Christ, made perfect, free, and whole.

So gaze and remember, let the truth abide,
Live from the glory already given thee;
In every step, His Spirit is your guide—
Blessed in the doing, for you’re His eternally.

From Lukewarm Bath to Roaring Fire: Refusing the Slow Death of Cultural Compromise by Debbie Harris

10 Wednesday Dec 2025

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Spiritual Warfare

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The poem is a prophetic lament and rallying cry against the slow, deadly compromise that has overtaken much of the church in the face of secular culture.

It opens with the classic “frog in the kettle” image: Christians have grown so accustomed to gradual moral and theological erosion (soft language, fear of offense, accommodation to abortion, sexual revolution, and gender ideology) that they no longer notice they are being spiritually cooked to death. Instead of wielding the sharp sword of God’s Word, the church has muffled it with cushions, whispers, and qualifiers, rendering itself powerless and silent while evil advances.

Yet the tone sharply turns. The Lion of Judah is not tame or polite; He still roars, and His Word remains a hammer, not a sentimental relic. The blood of the martyrs calls not for retreat but for fresh courage.

The poem then becomes a direct summons:
Rise from the lukewarm bath, shake off the stupor, and reclaim biblical boldness. True love and true truth are inseparable; one without the other is either cowardice or cruelty. The church must again speak with fire about sin, righteousness, judgment, and the cross, refusing to lower the sails of conviction no matter how fiercely the cultural winds howl.

It closes with an unapologetic confession of Christ’s absolute lordship over every sphere of life (womb, marriage bed, gender, throne, chromosome, and heartbeat), and a defiant affirmation that though the world may curse and cancel, the Word of God stands forever.

In short: the poem mourns the church’s church’s slow suicide by compromise, remembers the untamed power of the gospel, and calls every believer to leap from the kettle into the roaring fire of faithful, costly, joyful obedience.

The frog in the kettle never felt the flame,
slow heat, soft words, the gentle hiss of shame.
“Tone it down,” they smiled, “don’t rock the narrowing boat,”
so the church learned to whisper what once shook Jericho’s throat.

We traded the sword of the Spirit for a cushion and sigh,
wrapped truth in wet blankets till the fire dared not fly.
Abortion was “complex,” marriage “evolving,” grace grew cheap,
while babies went silent and children were taught to leap
into rainbow-colored graves dug by judges in black,
and we nodded politely—God, forgive us our lack.

But the Lion of Judah is not house-trained or tame;
He roars through the ages and still calls sin by name.
The blood of the martyrs is seed, not museum dust;
the Word is a hammer, not a sentimental crust.

So rise, you watchmen, from the lukewarm bath,
shake off the stupor of culture’s slow wrath.
Let the sharp two-edged blade flash white in the sun;
love without truth is no love—truth without love is no gun.

We will speak of the holy with fire, not frost,
of the wrath and the mercy that met at the cross.
We will call every prodigal home through the dark,
and refuse to strike sail when the culture cries “Hark!”

For the gates of hell will not prevail, though they howl and they rave;
Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will bury the grave.
So plant both feet on the rock that the builders disowned,
and thunder again what the Spirit once moaned:

Jesus is Lord—
over womb, bed, and throne,
over chromosome, heartbeat, and marrow and bone.
And the world may curse, cancel, or cancel again,
but the Word stands forever.
Amen and amen.

God’s Perfect Breath: The Eternal Scripture That Saves from Sin and Hell by Debbie Harris

18 Saturday Oct 2025

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christ Centered Devotionals, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Praise, Royally Redeemed

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Summary of the Poem: “God’s Perfect Breath: The Eternal Scripture That Saves from Sin and Hell”

The poem, inspired by Romans 15:4, Hebrews 4:12, and Psalm 119:89, 105, 130, 160 (KJV), celebrates the divine power, inerrancy, and perfection of Scripture as God’s living Word. It opens with Romans 15:4’s emphasis on Scripture’s role in providing learning, comfort, and hope, portraying it as a beacon that sustains faith. Psalm 119’s imagery—God’s Word as an eternal, settled truth, a lamp, and a light of understanding—underscores its flawless, guiding nature. Described as God’s very breath, the Scriptures are inerrant, radiant, and eternal, offering a perfect map to salvation. Hebrews 4:12’s depiction of the Word as a two-edged sword highlights its ability to pierce sin, expose Satan’s deceit, and shatter the chains of guilt, protecting souls from hell. The poem traces the biblical narrative from Eden to Calvary, where Christ’s sacrifice offers the ultimate gift of salvation, universally available (“for all to claim”). Through vivid imagery, it presents Scripture as a living, transformative force—a shield against evil, a fire to warm hearts, and a star guiding humanity to eternal life. The poem, spanning 56 lines across eight stanzas, concludes with a call to embrace this flawless Word, which redeems all from sin and Satan’s lies, lifting them to divine hope and light.

Romans 15:4 (KJV):

For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.


Hebrews 4:12 (KJV): For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.

Psalm 119:89 KJV: For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven.


Psalm 119:105 KJV: Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.


Psalm 119:130 KJV: The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the simple.


Psalm 119:160 KJV: Thy word is true from the beginning: and every one of thy righteous judgments endureth for ever.

Romans 15:4 KJV: “For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.”
Hebrews 4:12 KJV: “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”
Psalm 119:89 KJV: “For ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven.”
Psalm 119:105 KJV: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”
Psalm 119:130 KJV: “The entrance of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the simple.”
Psalm 119:160 KJV: “Thy word is true from the beginning: and every one of thy righteous judgments endureth for ever.”

In Romans’ light, where hope takes flight,
Fifteen and four, a beacon bright.
The Scriptures, writ for learning’s gain,
Bestow through grace a hope sustained.
Through ancient words, the Spirit sings,
Of comfort born on sacred wings,
A Word divine, so pure, so sure,
Its truth eternal shall endure.

This Word, as Psalms proclaim with awe,
God’s settled truth, His holy law.
Forever fixed in Heaven’s frame,
Its inerrant voice shall never wane.
A lamp to guide through darkest night,
It shines as truth, as Heaven’s light,
From simple hearts to sages wise,
It opens truth to seeking eyes.

God’s breath it is, alive, divine,
Its perfect will through ages shine.
Inerrant, flawless, without stain,
Its every truth shall e’er remain.
No error dims its radiant glow,
No fault can shake the grace it shows.
From Heaven’s throne, it came to earth,
God’s holy Word, of boundless worth.

O living Word, so sharp, so keen,
As Hebrews sings in truth serene.
A two-edged sword, it cuts through lies,
Divides the soul, exposes guise.
It pierces deep where sin takes hold,
Reveals the heart, both young and old.
No secret hides from its pure light,
It shatters gloom with Heaven’s might.

Satan’s deceit, that cunning snare,
Dissolves beneath its holy glare.
The serpent’s lies, so sly, so fell,
Cannot withstand this truth that swells.
From Eden’s fall to hell’s dark gate,
The Word unmasks the devil’s hate.
It guards the soul from sin’s cruel chain,
And breaks the bonds of guilt and pain.

O glorious beauty, rich, profound,
In every verse, God’s voice is found.
Its pages gleam with mercy’s art,
A perfect map to heal the heart.
From Sinai’s stone to Calvary’s cross,
It counts all gain as worldly loss.
The story of a Savior’s blood,
That cleanses sin in love’s great flood.

This Word, unerring, stands supreme,
God’s perfect truth, salvation’s theme.
It speaks of Christ, the Lamb who died,
Who bore our shame, was crucified.
Through Him, the gift of grace is given,
To save from hell, to open Heaven.
No greater love could e’er be known,
Than Christ, who claims us as His own.

In every line, God’s breath resounds,
A living stream on holy grounds.
It quenches thirst, it calms the storm,
Restores the soul, makes whole, transforms.
No power of hell can stand its might,
No darkness dims its radiant light.
It calls the lost, it sets them free,
And writes their names for eternity.

From Genesis to Heaven’s shore,
The Word endures forevermore.
Its perfect truth, a guiding star,
Proclaims God’s love both near and far.
Through trials fierce, it stands unmoved,
Its inerrant voice by God approved.
A shield against the tempter’s art,
A fire to warm the coldest heart.

O saints, arise, this Word embrace,
Its flawless truth redeems the race.
From sin’s dark grip, from Satan’s lie,
It lifts them to the throne on high.
In Romans’ hope, in Hebrews’ might,
They find their strength, their peace, their light.
God’s perfect Word, His breath divine,
Salvation’s gift—for all to claim.

Verses Comparing the Lilac’s Earthly Grace to the Heavenly Glory of Christ’s Gem-Studded Robes in Royal Purple by Debbie Harris

04 Sunday May 2025

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christ Centered Devotionals, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Praise, Royally Redeemed

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The sonnet contrasts the humble beauty of the lilac with the divine majesty of Jesus Christ’s gemstone-studded robes, adorned with gold and amethyst. In the first quatrain, the lilac is depicted as a delicate, purple flower with a sweet fragrance, symbolizing earthly grace and simplicity. The second quatrain shifts to Christ’s radiant robes, described as celestial garments sparkling with gold and amethyst, embodying heavenly glory and eternal royalty. The third quatrain acknowledges the lilac’s purple hue as a faint echo of the robes’ regal shade, emphasizing the vast difference between temporal and divine splendor. The final couplet unites both images through their shared purple color, proclaiming that earth and Heaven rise in worship, celebrating Christ’s triumphant, kingly reign in eternal splendor. Written in Shakespearean form, the sonnet exalts the contrast between nature’s fleeting beauty and Christ’s victorious, majestic sovereignty.

In humble fields, the lilac lifts its bloom,
A whispered purple, soft as dawn’s first light,
Its fragrance weaves through air, a sweet perfume,
A fleeting gift of earth’s unspoiled delight.
Yet far beyond, in realms where angels sing,
Christ’s robes cascade, with gold and amethyst,
Each gem a star, where heavenly glories cling,
Their radiance pure, no mortal eye resist.

The lilac’s hue, though kin to royal shade,
Is but a shadow of that sacred vest,
Where woven light and timeless wealth are laid,
In folds of grace, eternally expressed.
In purple clad, both earth and Heaven rise,
His kingly reign in splendor reigns on high!