Tag Archives: Prayer

If the Foundations Be Destroyed, What Can the Righteous Do? – A Lament for Our Age by Debbie Harris

02 Friday Jan 2026

Posted by in Bible Centered Poetry, Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational, Patriotic, Prayer

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

(Thank goodness for President Trump and his team!

In halls of power, the scales are tipped with gold,
Promises rot like fruit left on the vine.
The watchmen sleep, the shepherds sell the fold,
And justice bends beneath the weight of lies.

The pillars crack—once hewn from honest stone—
Now honeycombed by termites wearing crowns.
The innocent are crushed beneath the throne,
While thieves in silk parade through marble towns.

What shall the righteous do when all caves in?
When truth is branded treason, light called shade?
Shall we rage blindly at the gathering sin,
Or swing the hammer till the liars fade?

No. Fury feeds the fire that burns the just.
The righteous stand, though every beam gives way.
They speak the word no bribe can turn to dust,
And build with quiet hands what will not sway.

They plant small seeds in soil the flood has scarred,
They bind the broken, guard the flickering flame.
Their strength is not the sword, but patience hard—
To live the truth when truth itself is maimed.

For empires fall when foundations decay,
Yet something rises from the honest ruin:
A narrower path, a dawn delayed, but day—
The remnant walks it, and the world begins anew.

O Lord of justice, hear the righteous cry:
Not for revenge, but for the day restored
When fraud lies exposed, and no lie can buy
The mercy of the everlasting Lord.

Through Prayer, May We Bring All To Bethesda’s Hidden Depth by Debbie Harris

29 Saturday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

By Bethesda’s pool where waters softly gleam,
The sick and sorrowful in shadows make their plea,
Through prayer’s bright causeway flows heaven’s living stream,
A bridge of faith where broken spirits find their key.

Intercession rises like the morning’s flame,
Lifts every burden—flesh and soul and mind,
Through colonnades where angels whisper God’s great name,
To mercy’s tide where healing waits for all mankind.

Yet mystery dwells within the Sovereign’s heart,
Not every prayer meets human hope’s design,
Some answers come as grace when healing parts,
“No” proves wiser than our brightest sign.

Thus faith takes root where human wisdom ends,
Through prayer’s sure path, God’s perfect will transcends.

Jesus Christ, Our Healer: Prayer For Wounded Guardsmen And America by Debbie Harris

27 Thursday Nov 2025

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Prayer

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

,

Prayer for Wounded Guardsmen and America

A heartfelt prayer mourning fallen guardsmen, confessing national sin, and pleading for healing, justice, and revival through Jesus Christ alone.

2 Chronicles 7:14 (KJV)
If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.

Psalm 33:12 (ESV)
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people whom he has chosen as his heritage!

John 14:6 (NKJV)
Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.”

Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)
But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.

Amos 5:24 (ESV)
But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

2 Corinthians 5:20 (NLT)
So we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, “Come back to God!”

Psalm 34:18 (ESV)
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Ephesians 4:3 (ESV)
Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.

Habakkuk 3:2 (NIV)
Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy.

Proverbs 29:2 (ESV)
When the righteous thrive, the people rejoice; when the wicked rule, the people groan.

In the shadow of sorrow, where bullets have torn,
Two guardsmen have fallen, their sacrifice worn.
Their blood cries for justice, their lives for our peace,
O Lord, in Your mercy, let healing increase.

A nation divided, with wounds ever deep,
Hate festers in silence, its harvest we reap.
From cities to heartland, the cries rise as one,
“Heal us, O Father, through Your only Son.”

For only in Jesus can true peace be found,
His cross bore our hatred, His grace does abound.
He calmed raging tempests, He healed broken men,
He calls us to wholeness, again and again.

In the shadow of sorrow, where bullets have torn,
Two guardsmen have fallen, their sacrifice worn.
Their blood cries for justice, their lives for our peace,
O Lord, in Your mercy, let healing increase.

A nation divided, with wounds ever deep,
Hate festers in silence, its harvest we reap.
From cities to heartland, the cries rise as one,
“Heal us, O Father, through Your only Son.”

For only in Jesus can true peace be found,
His cross bore our hatred, His grace does abound.
He calmed raging tempests, He healed broken men,
He calls us to wholeness, again and again.

O Christ, Prince of Peace, we repent of our ways,
The pride and division that mark all our days.
Forgive our transgressions, our selfishness shown,
Restore what is broken, make righteousness known.

Send forth Your Spirit like dew on the ground,
Revive weary hearts where Your truth can be found.
Let churches awaken, let neighbors unite,
Let love overcome every shadow of night.

For the guardsmen who served, for their families who mourn,
We lift up our voices, Your comfort we seek.
Wrap them in peace that the world cannot give,
In Your resurrection, let new life begin.

Heal our dear nation, O Lord, we implore,
Through Jesus Christ’s power, forevermore.
Let justice flow downward like waters that pour,
And righteousness spring up from each heart to its core.

We stand on Your promise, Your Word never fails,
“If My people humble themselves and they pray…”
We seek Your face now, turn from wicked ways,
Heal our land, Lord, for all of our days.

In Jesus’ mighty and precious name, we pray,
Amen and amen, lead us in Your way.

The Prodigal Nation: A Cry for America to Kneel Again at Calvary by Debbie Harris

25 Tuesday Nov 2025

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Patriotic

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

This prophetic poem is a heartfelt lament and urgent plea for the soul of America. It begins by echoing the beloved line “God shed His grace on thee,” then paints a stark picture of a nation that has received unmatched blessing yet drifted far from its first love, trading truth for pride, liberty for license, and the light of Christ for the darkness of self.

Like the prodigal son, America is portrayed as a wayward child who has squandered its inheritance, yet the Father still calls, still waits, still stands ready with open arms. The poem moves from sorrow over the nation’s spiritual decline to a ringing call for repentance: to fall on its knees at the cross, drink again from Calvary’s fountain, and find forgiveness and eternal life in Jesus Christ alone.

The final stanzas burst with hope and holy urgency. Church bells, steeples, and awakened hearts herald the promise that if America turns back to Christ, revival’s fire is here, ready to fall, ready to burn away the darkness and restore the land to the glory and purpose for which it was graced.

In essence, it is both a mourning for what has been lost and a triumphant declaration that it is not too late: the Shepherd seeks His sheep, the King is near, and revival awaits the nation that humbles itself and comes home.

America, America,
God shed His grace on thee,
From shining sea to shining sea,
Yet shadows veil what once was free.

The crown of brotherhood lies bent,
Our purple mountains turn to dust,
The fruited plain forgets its scent,
And liberty lies stained with rust.

We chased the wind, we crowned the pride,
We called the darkness light by day,
We traded truth for what felt right,
And slowly turned our hearts away.

But hark—a voice still calls thy name,
The Shepherd seeks the wandering sheep,
His arms are wide, His love the same,
Though we have sown what now we reap.

America, America,
Fall on thy knees beneath the cross,
Where mercy flows for every loss,
Where grace redeems what sin has cost.

Repent, return, O weary land,
The altar waits, the Savior stands,
His blood still speaks a better word
Than all the cries of broken hands.

Let church bells ring from coast to coast,
Let steeples pierce the darkened sky,
Let prodigal hearts come home to boast
No more in self, but Christ on high.

America, America,
God shed His grace on thee—
And bids thee now, in humble faith,
Come drink the cup of Calvary.

There find forgiveness, full and free,
There find the life that never ends,
For every soul that turns to see
The Lamb of God who heals and mends.

America, awake, arise,
Lift up your eyes, the King is near.
The night is far spent, dawn is nigh—
Turn back to Christ; revival’s fire is here.

May Our Lives Be a Song of Praise and Thanksgiving to Thee, O Lord of Majestic, Hope-Filled Victory by Debbie Harris

24 Monday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

The poem is a single, sustained prayer that our entire lives might become a living act of worship: rising like sweet incense (Psalm 141:2) to the majestic God who has triumphed over sin, sorrow, and death through the cross and resurrection of Jesus.

It celebrates the transformative power of the gospel:

  • Darkness is outrun by mercy.
  • Brokenness and scars are turned into songs of glory.
  • Ordinary days, tears, work, and weakness are all redeemed and filled with resurrection light.
  • Every moment (from Monday labor to the return of spring) pulses with hallelujah because the war is already won.

The poem offers back to God the small, honest gifts of real human lives (the worker’s hands, the child’s trust, the widow’s mite, the prodigal’s return) and asks that He receive them as fragrant worship. It ends with a triumphant amen: because we serve the Slain and Risen Lamb, even our little lives are swept up into one endless, hope-filled song of praise and thanksgiving.

In short:
Because of who Christ is and what He has done, every breath we take can be worship, every day can be victory, and every heart can keep singing forever.

May our lives rise like incense, sweet and slow,
a steady hymn through night’s unyielding deep,
each breath a note, each heartbeat set aglow
by mercy that outruns the dark and keeps
its promise in the breaking of the bread,
its victory in the place where sorrow bled.

Oh Lord, majestic, clothed in living light,
Thy name a banner over every fear;
the grave is hollow now, the stone is bright
with morning no shadow can draw near.
We carry resurrection in our veins,
and every scar sings glory through its pains.

Let laughter spill like wine at harvest feast,
let weeping turn to dancing in Thy sight;
our fragile days, once borrowed from the beast
of death, now blaze with heaven’s borrowed might.
Because of who we serve—the Slain, the Risen—
our little lives become a wide horizon.

So take these trembling offerings, small and true:
the work-worn hand, the child’s unbroken trust,
the widow’s mite, the prodigal’s “I’m through
with running”—all laid bare before the Just
and Gentle One who calls the broken blest
and sets a table in the wilderness.

May every ordinary moment ring
with hallelujahs only grace can start;
may Monday’s labor and December’s spring
both thrum beneath Thy mercy like a heart
that knows its ransom paid, its war already won—
and sings, forever sings, because of Thee, the Son.

Amen. And amen again.
Our lives: one endless song of praise and thanksgiving.

Every Prayer A Sacred Poem To The Divine Ear by Debbie Harris

23 Sunday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

Every prayer is a sacred poem to God,
Though penned in haste on trembling air,
In fragments torn from flesh and blood,
Yet flawless in the sight of prayer.

The miser’s coin that clinks too late,
The harlot’s tear upon the floor,
The thief’s last breath beneath the weight
Of nail and spear and open door.

The scholar’s doubt that kneels at length,
The leper’s groan outside the gate,
The proud man’s silence, stripped of strength,
All enter heaven’s mercy-seat.

No line is lost, no sigh too small;
The stammered word, the wordless dread,
The broken meter of our fall
Becomes the psalm that angels read.

For He who spoke the worlds in rhyme
Delights in every ragged scroll;
He gathers every trembling line
And binds them in His heart made whole.

Therefore let fall the heart’s crude art,
Unpolished, bleeding, unafraid:
Whether the answer granted be “Yes” or a tender “No,”
Every prayer ascends as a sacred poem to the Throne of God,
For all is done in love, and the best is only given
To the child of God—no matter if the answer is yes or no.

Every Prayer Ascends as a Sacred Poem to the Throne of God by Debbie Harris

23 Sunday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

Every prayer is a sacred poem to God,
Though penned in haste on trembling air,
In fragments torn from flesh and blood,
Yet flawless in the sight of prayer.

The miser’s coin that clinks too late,
The harlot’s tear upon the floor,
The thief’s last breath beneath the weight
Of nail and spear and open door.

The scholar’s doubt that kneels at length,
The leper’s groan outside the gate,
The proud man’s silence, stripped of strength,
All enter heaven’s mercy-seat.

No line is lost, no sigh too small;
The stammered word, the wordless dread,
The broken meter of our fall
Becomes the psalm that angels read.

For He who spoke the worlds in rhyme
Delights in every ragged scroll;
He gathers every trembling line
And binds them in His heart made whole.

Therefore let fall the heart’s crude art—
Unpolished, bleeding, unafraid—
Every prayer is a sacred poem to God,
And every Christ- centered poem is a prayer.

A Thanksgiving Prayer To Our Triune God by Debbie Harris

10 Monday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

This poem is a lyrical prayer of gratitude addressed to the Triune God—Father, Son (Jesus), and Holy Spirit—celebrating God’s abundant provision and presence. Structured in five stanzas, it weaves agricultural imagery (harvest, wheat, grapes) with theological depth to express thanks for both physical and spiritual blessings.

  • Stanza 1 (Father): Thanks God the Father for creation’s bounty—dawn, rain, and the harvest—symbolizing His generous provision.
  • Stanza 2 (Son): Thanks Jesus as the Vine and broken bread, linking the Lord’s Supper to redemption and life from death.
  • Stanza 3 (Spirit): Thanks the Holy Spirit as wind and fire, for inner renewal and the warmth of faith.
  • Stanza 4 (Trinity): Praises the unified Three-in-One God as eternal Light, giver of breath, sight, and enduring love.
  • Stanza 5 (Response): Overwhelmed by gratitude (“so much to be thankful for”), the speaker offers imperfect words as worship to the King.

Core Theme: Profound thanksgiving for material and eternal gifts, rooted in the distinct yet united persons of the Trinity, culminating in joyful praise.

Father of mercies, whose open hand
spills dawn across the stubbled land,
we thank You for the furrow’s yield,
for wheat that bows, for rain that healed.

Jesus, the Vine, whose blood runs red
in every grape the harvesters tread,
we thank You for the table spread,
for broken bread that raises dead.

Spirit, wild Wind, who fans the flame
in every heart that speaks His name,
we thank You for the kindled coal
that warms the marrow of the soul.

Three Persons, one unshadowed Light,
You hold the day, You hold the night;
for breath, for sight, for love that stays,
we lift this triune hymn of praise.

So much to thank You for—too much
for any tongue, yet every crutch
of word we lean on bends and sings:
all glory to the King of kings.

Ascent of the Silver Prayer to the Triune Throne of Glory by Debbie Harris

09 Sunday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

A lone seeker kneels in earthly silence, sending a fragile prayer upward like a silver thread. It pierces the heavens, passes blazing galaxies, and enters the radiant throne room—a sea of glass bathed in living light. There the Triune God reigns: the Father enthroned in sapphire and storm-light, the Son with merciful, galaxy-wounds, and the Spirit as a dove of white-hot wind. Surrounded by elders, crowned in surrender, and four living creatures thundering “Holy,” every prayer is treasured—gathered as incense in golden vials, always welcome, never forgotten. The prayer, now a shaft of light, is caught, transformed, and returned as an unstoppable river of grace. It floods the seeker’s hidden room, shattering gloom with splendor and crowning the soul that God fully sees and redeems.

The seeker kneels in shadowed hush,
yet the prayer ascends alone—
a silver filament spun from earth,
threading the vault of indigo stone.

It breaches the firmament’s seam,
where galaxies burn like censers swung,
and enters the blaze of the throne room—
a sea of glass fused with living sun.

There, the Triune Flame abides:
the Father on sapphire, veiled in storm-light,
His countenance older than the first word,
yet kind as the hush before dawn.

The Son at His right, scarred palms open,
the Lamb once slain, now radiant King;
His wounds are galaxies, still bleeding mercy,
each drop a world redeemed by singing.

The Spirit, a dove of white-hot wind,
broods over the waters of endless praise;
seven torches blaze before the throne,
seven eyes that search the secret ways.

Elders in linen, crowns cast down,
form a ring of surrendered gold;
four living creatures—lion, ox, man, eagle—
roar “Holy” in thunder no silence can hold.

Each prayer is precious, always welcome—
a vial of incense the angels keep,
its fragrance rising, never forgotten,
before the throne where no plea shall sleep.

The prayer, now a shaft of pure light,
pierces the heart of the Triune glow;
it is caught, transfigured, returned—
a river of grace no barrier can hold.

It floods the seeker’s hidden room,
though miles and veils lie in between;
a tide of splendor breaks the doom,
and glory crowns the soul He redeems.

Crimson-Crowned and Called: The Privilege of Prayer with the Sovereign Lord by Debbie Harris

09 Sunday Nov 2025

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

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Redeemed by Christ’s blood and crowned with mercy, believers hold the royal privilege of constant, intimate prayer—whispering boldly at any moment to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Their breath becomes a bridge, their hearts an open door, to the Sovereign who calls them His own.

Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.
—Hebrews 4:16 (KJV)

For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father.
—Romans 8:15 (KJV)

What a privilege we bear,
crowned in crimson mercy,
to whisper in prayer at any hour
to the King of Kings,
the Lord of Lords—
our breath a bridge,
our hearts the door.