Tag Archives: Poetry

Will The Salt Stay Salty?Not By Clutching Yesterday’s Heat, But By Staying Near The Source That First Made It Sharp Which Is Jeus Chist, Our Lord by Debbie Harris

02 Saturday May 2026

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Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.

Matthew 5:13 (KJV)


You are the salt of the earth, the hidden grace
That seasons sorrow, checks the creeping rot,
Preserves the good where virtue finds no place,
And cuts through dullness with a living edge.
But if that salt grows flat, its fire grown cold,
No skill restores the savor it once gave;
It crumbles useless on the common mold,
Fit only to be scattered on the grave.
O faithful ones, once bright against the night,
What happens when your witness turns to show?
When love grows safe, and truth bends to delight,
And holy fire becomes a hearth’s dull glow?
The world will walk across what it revered
And trample underfoot what should have steered.
Yet even now, a single spark may rise—
A contrite heart, a prayer that will not cease—
To draw the salt from ashes to the skies
And wake the ancient flame of truth and peace.
Will you be remade, restored to burning worth,
Or trampled underfoot as worthless earth?

Revelation 4:11A Victorious Celestial Ode by Debbie Harris

02 Saturday May 2026

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

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Revelation 4:11 (KJV)

You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they were created
and have their being.

O radiant Lord, enthroned in blazing light,
Thou art worthy to claim eternal praise!
Glory and honor, majesty and might,
Crown Thee forever through unnumbered days.
Before Thy throne the fourfold creatures cry
“Holy!” in thunderous, triumphant strain;
The elders fall, their golden crowns they fly,
And cast them down in glad, adoring rain.
For by Thy sovereign will the heavens sprang,
Galaxies wheeled in fiery dance unfurled;
The oceans roared, the verdant mountains rang,
And life awoke across a waking world.
Each star that burns, each creature great and small,
The eagle’s soar, the lion’s royal roar,
All sing the anthem of their Maker’s call—
Thou hast created; Thou sustainest all.
Victorious King, whose word alone prevailed
When ancient darkness trembled at Thy voice,
No power of chaos has Thy throne assailed,
For all things serve Thee, and in Thee rejoice.
Hail, worthy One upon the sapphire throne!
Let every realm and every tongue confess:
All glory, honor, power are Thine alone,
Forever worthy, Lord of righteousness!
Amen. Amen.

The Alabaster Box Broken: Her Lavish Sacrifice That Moved and Pleased the Savior by Debbie Harris

26 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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In the hush of Simon’s house in Bethany where lamplight danced and swayed,
the evening air lay thick with roasted lamb and bread’s warm, yeasty breath.
Wine’s dark tang kissed every tongue; low laughter rose and played
while shadows stretched like fingers long across the earthen floor beneath.


She came unbidden, silent as a sigh through candle-glow,
an alabaster box clutched tight—its surface cool and smooth as bone.
Pale as moonlit marble, sealed with promise none could know,
it trembled in her calloused hands, a secret all her own.


Then came the sound—sharp, sudden, like a heart that breaks in two—
the alabaster cracked and split; the crash rang clear and cold.
Out poured the nard, pure spikenard oil from distant eastern lands,
very precious, worth a year’s wages—
in golden streams, thick, glistening, rich as dew—


and oh, the fragrance! Headstrong, rare, and fiercely bold.
It flooded every nostril, heavy spice that clung and curled,
a living perfume storm that drowned the meat-smoke, bread, and wine.
It wrapped the room in velvet heat, a sweetness wild and pearled,


that settled on the skin like oil of love made flesh divine.
She knelt. Her tears fell warm and salt upon His dusty feet;
her raven hair, soft as midnight silk, let loose in one swift flood.
She wiped the costly balm with strands that brushed and kissed and beat,


while oil ran slick between her fingers, warm and thick as blood.
The men recoiled. Their voices sliced the fragrant, trembling air—
“Three hundred pence!” they hissed, like knives dragged sharp across a stone.
“Given to the poor!”—their outrage bitter, raw, and bare,


while all around the perfume sang its sweet, insistent moan.
He turned. His gaze was steady flame that pierced the rising din.
The scent still rose in spirals slow, a prayer made visible.
“Leave her,” He said, voice low and deep as thunder held within,


“She hath done what she could. Let no one trouble her or kill
the beauty of this moment. She has poured her all on Me,
anointed beforehand for My burial, soon to lie within a borrowed tomb.
Wherever this good news is told across the earth and sea,


her deed will live—her broken box, her love that broke the gloom.”
The shards lay scattered, gleaming white against the oil-slick floor.
The fragrance lingered, clung to robes, to hair, to memory’s breath.
We tasted salt and spice and grace; we felt the holy pour


of one who gave her everything, who loved Him unto death.
She hath done what she could.
Her sacrifice—extravagant, selfless, drenched in love—
moved the Savior’s heart and filled it with delight.


He was well-pleased.
And still the fragrance rises.

In Crimson Dawn of Grace: New Hearts, New Minds, and the Triumphant Life of the Redeemed by Debbie Harris

25 Saturday Apr 2026

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

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To my King and High Priest, Jesus Christ — who has made us kings and queens in Your kingdom.

In crimson dawn of grace where shadows flee,
We stand as royally redeemed, set free—
Not slaves to dust, but heirs of heaven’s throne,
New creatures born; the old self buried, gone.
Our hearts, once stone, now pulse with holy fire,
Our souls refreshed by living streams that never tire,
Our minds renewed, illumined by the Word,
We cherish righteousness as heaven’s greatest treasure, long deferred.
O joy unbounded! In the sacred scroll we pore,
On statutes pure as gold, on wisdom’s endless store;
Each precept sings, a melody divine,
And in our spirits leaps the triumph of the Vine.
No weary yoke, but eagle’s wings of might,
We walk His ways through storm and starry night;
In victory’s stride, with banners high unfurled,
We live the law of love that conquers all the world.
For Christ has crowned us kings and queens to reign,
In robes of righteousness, unmarred by sin’s dark stain;
With gladness we obey, with laughter we ascend,
God’s kings and queens—forever crowned, forever blest.

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

19 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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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.

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

19 Sunday Apr 2026

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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!

A Solemn Call to Reprove the Unfruitful Works of Darkness: A Poetic Reflection on Ephesians 5:11 and the Danger of Cultural Compromise in the Church by Debbie Harris

18 Saturday Apr 2026

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In Scripture’s pages rings the clear command:
“Have no part with the fruitless deeds of night;
Instead, expose and firmly take your stand,
Reprove the darkness with the truth’s pure light.”
Once we were lost within that shadowed reign,
But grace has called us now as children bright,
To walk as those whom Christ has made again,
And shine His goodness in this present fight.

No partnership with works that bear no fruit,
No quiet truce with what the Lord condemns;
The creeping creed that wears a virtuous suit
Has slipped inside the church and twisted hymns.
It calls for union with what God rejects,
Affirms the sin that Scripture plainly names,
Redefines the marriage bond and sex,
And hides division underneath kind claims.

Awake, O sleeper, rise from death’s cold sleep,
Let Christ’s own radiance fall upon your eyes;
Expose the hidden shame that lies so deep,
That souls may turn, repent, and truly rise.
Reprove the errors of this passing age,
That place mere culture over timeless Word;
No pact with thoughts that war against the page
Where cross and blood alone are truly heard.

Stand firm, believers, in these evil days,
Discern what pleases Him who rules above;
Walk wisely, making time your friend always,
And let the fruit of light reveal His love.
For righteousness and truth will long endure,
While darkness fades before the coming Judge;
When every hidden work is brought to view,
The light will triumph and the false will budge.

O Church of Christ, be bold to speak and shine,
Reprove, expose, with love and truth aligned;
No compromise with darkness, false and fine—
Proclaim the gospel, rescue heart and mind.
Thus shall the sleeper wake, the dead arise,
And Christ will shine where once the shadows fell;
The fruitless works will wither in His skies,
And souls redeemed will sound His praise as well.

Upon the Finished Work of Jesus Christ: Wherein the Soul Finds Rest in the Father’s Unchanging Delight and Rejoices with Singing by Debbie Harris

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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O Thou who seest not as mortal eyes,
Nor weighs the soul by merit’s fragile scale,
But lookest through the veil where Jesus dies,
And finds in Him the worth that cannot fail—

What though my hands be stained, my steps unsure,
My heart a field half-tilled and overgrown?
Thou countest not the debts I still endure,
For on the Cross Thy reckoning was done.

“Beloved Son,” the heavens once proclaimed,
And now in Him I stand, by grace made one.
The aroma sweet of Christ, not mine, is named;
In that sweet savour Thou delightest, Son.

No thunderous voice of wrath pursues my shame,
But Zephaniah’s song breaks forth in glee:
The Lord in midst of me, exulting flame,
Rejoices with loud singing over me.

My sins, like scattered clouds, are blown away;
No ledger dark records what Christ has paid.
Thou art not wroth when I in weakness stray—
Thy love abounds, slow anger, quick to aid.

I am Thy child, not striving to become;
The Father’s love hath called me what I am.
No better self awaits a fuller sum—
I rest in what the finished work hath won.

Then let me cease from toil to earn Thy smile,
And walk as one already well approved.
The pressure falls; instead, a holy guile—
To live from favour, not for it be moved.

O God, who in Thy Son art pleased with me,
Though I see naught but failure in my glass,
Let this truth shine: Thy pride is full and free,
Rooted in Christ, and changeless as Thou art.

For nothing in my past or present frame
Can dim the glory of redeeming grace.
I am accepted in the Beloved’s name—
And in that name, I find my resting place.

Heaven’s Hallelujah Chorus: The Lord God Omnipotent Reigneth – A Poem of Rest in the King of Kings by Debbie Harris

11 Saturday Apr 2026

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

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In the midst of life’s fiercest tempests and deepest shadows, there is a peace that surpasses understanding — a calm that descends only when we remember that Christ reigneth. His sovereign rule does not merely command the winds and waves; it stills the restless storms within our own hearts. This pairing of Scripture and poetry is an invitation to lift our eyes to the throne above, where the King of kings sits in endless light, offering rest, victory, and the promise that every tear will one day be wiped away. May these words draw your soul into the hush of His presence and the joy of His eternal reign.

Revelation 19:1-10 (KJV)

And after these things I heard a great voice of much people in heaven, saying, Alleluia; Salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the Lord our God: For true and righteous are his judgments: for he hath judged the great whore, which did corrupt the earth with her fornication, and hath avenged the blood of his servants at her hand. And again they said, Alleluia. And her smoke rose up for ever and ever. And the four and twenty elders and the four beasts fell down and worshipped God that sat on the throne, saying, Amen; Alleluia. And a voice came out of the throne, saying, Praise our God, all ye his servants, and ye that fear him, both small and great. And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him: for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready. And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints. And he saith unto me, Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. And he saith unto me, These are the true sayings of God. And I fell at his feet to worship him. And he said unto me, See thou do it not: I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of Jesus: worship God: for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.

In realms where tempests rage and shadows creep,
A hush descends, as ancient promises keep.
The throne above, unyielding, firm, and bright,
Where sits the King of kings in endless light.

Our Lord and Savior reigns, His scepter strong,
No earthly crown can match His sovereign song.
Through valleys deep where fears like rivers flow,
His voice commands the winds: “Be still, and know.”

The storms that howl, the doubts that claw the soul,
Bow low before the One who makes them whole.
He calms the sea with but a whispered word,
And peace, like dawn, upon the weary stirred.

In Him, the battle’s won before the fight,
The darkness flees before His holy might.
No chain can bind, no grave can hold His power—
He rose triumphant at the appointed hour.

So rest, O heart, in this eternal reign,
Where grace abounds and sorrow turns to gain.
The Lord who conquered death now holds the key—
In His dominion, we are truly free.

At peace forever, ‘neath His watchful eye,
Our Savior reigns, and every tear shall dry.
Let heavens ring with hallelujahs grand,
For Christ is King, and in His hand we stand.

Revelation 22:20 (KJV)
He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

Until All Have Heard: A Warning Against the Warm, White-Sepulchre Christianity That Bears No Scars of the Cross by Debbie Harris

11 Saturday Apr 2026

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In shadowed halls where once the sacred flame
Burned bright with truth from Calvary’s scarred tree,
A hollow creed now whispers out a name—
“Christianity”—yet Christ it will not see.

The Word, once living sword and guiding star,
Lies dusty on the shelf of quaint old lore;
They trade the Cross for comfort’s gilded bar,
And nail anew what love could not restore.

No thorn-crowned King, no blood-bought pardon here,
But gentle fables soft as morning mist—
A therapy of self, a smile austere,
Where sin is but a wound the world has kissed.

They build their temples tall with marble lies,
Proclaim a gospel sweetened, safe, and tame;
Yet heaven weeps, and hell in silence cries:
“This is no Christ—only His empty name.”

O wandering flock, return to Jordan’s stream!
Cling to the Rock that breaks the rebel will.
Let not the age’s dream supplant the dream
Of Him who died—and bids the dead live still.

Until all have heard the ancient, thunderous call—
The narrow way, the gate, the risen Lord—
Stand fast, ye faithful: let no counterfeit enthrall,
For it is the Church that wields the living sharpness of His sword—
The living Word that cuts through every lie,
Not the compromised, warm, white sepulchre kind
Of Christianity, but the fierce and true
That answers only to the voice of Christ,
And calls the dead to rise and live anew.