Tag Archives: Prayer

A Classical Prayer to Christ: Entrusting Mothers and Families Separated by Duty and Distance to His Faithful Keeping from Afar by Debbie Harris

13 Thursday Aug 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Inspirational, Love Of Family, Prayer

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

What a profound blessing it has been to serve my mother in these years of her elderly decline. Yet how brutal and agonizing it is for me to have to leave her—pulled away by responsibilities and the hard necessities of provision.

Even though she is improving and receives phenomenal care, the separation remains agonizingly difficult. This prayer was born from that tension: the love that wants to stay, the duty that must go, and the quiet cry of a heart that entrusts what it cannot hold into the hands of Christ.

May these lines, offered in classical form and centered wholly on Him, meet you in whatever distance you carry.

— The Poet

Isaiah 46:4 – And even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.

Psalm 71:9, 18 – Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth. Now also when I am old and greyheaded, O God, forsake me not.

Psalm 121:5–8 – The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

Isaiah 49:15 – Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.

Hebrews 13:5 – for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

Lord Jesus, keep our families near

When roads and skies stretch far between.

Though we may long to hold them here,

Send angels forth, by You unseen,

To sit beside the empty chair,

To light the lamp at evening’s call,

To quiet every rising care

And answer when the soft tears fall.

Watch over children in their play,

And elders in their quieter years.

Be present through the ordinary day,

And closer still when night brings fears.

How hard it is to stand apart

While hearts still stretch across the night.

We cannot hold them, though we start—

So fold them in Your wings of light.

By Your own blood and finished cross,

By every promise You have made,

Turn absence into holy loss

That draws them nearer to Your shade.

Let every mile become a place

Where Your dear presence gently stays,

Until we meet face to face

And share again the same bright days.

Until that hour, O Christ our Lord,

Keep every soul we so adore

Beneath the shelter of Your Word,

Safe in Your keeping evermore!

Ending Prayer

O Lord Jesus Christ, eternal Son of the living God, who art the same yesterday, today, and forever, and whose compassionate eye rests upon every generation:

I come before Thee this day on behalf of my elderly mother, whom duty and distance have for a season placed far from those who love her. Thou who didst honour Thy own mother Mary, and who in the hour of Thy passion entrusted her to the care of the beloved disciple, look now with tender mercy upon this Thy handmaid in her advancing years.

Guard her body with health according to Thy will, strengthen her steps, and preserve her from every danger, loneliness, and fear. Where the miles lie between us, let Thy presence be nearer to her than any earthly companion. Comfort her heart when it grows heavy, quiet her nights with Thy peace, and fill her days with the quiet assurance that she is never forsaken.

Uphold her in the frailty of age; grant her daily bread, clear mind, and the gentle consolations of Thy Spirit. Knit her still to her children and family across every distance, and let our love and prayers reach her through Thee. If it be Thy good pleasure, hasten the day of safe reunion; until then, keep her securely in the hollow of Thy hand.

Be Thou her strength when she is weary, her light in any darkness, her unfailing Companion both near and afar, and the faithful Shepherd who will never leave her nor forsake her.

All this I ask in Thy most holy Name, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit livest and reignest, one God, world without end.

Amen.

A Humble Prayer for a Wise and Understanding Heart, That We May Be Truly Rich in the Sight of the Lord by Debbie Harris

25 Saturday Jul 2026

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

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A Note from the Poet

Dear Reader, these humble lines were born of a simple prayer once uttered in quiet longing: that the Lord might grant us not the fleeting treasures of this world, but a wise and understanding heart—the only riches that endure. May they stir in thee the same desire that moved Solomon of old, and may the God of all wisdom answer them in thee as He did in him.

Give therefore thy servant an understanding heart… that I may discern between good and bad.

— 1 Kings 3:9 (KJV)

Lord, give us now a wise and understanding heart,

That we may know the good, and from the evil part.

For wisdom’s gentle light shall guide our every way,

And in that sacred gift true riches shall we stay.

Not gold that rusts, nor fame that fades with fleeting breath,

But discernment pure, that conquers fear and death.

A heart that seeks Thy truth, and finds in Thee its rest—

Then are we truly rich, by Heaven’s measure blest.

The Unconquerable Throne: Adoring the Pierced and Reigning King While the World Groans Under Missile Rain and Shadowed Swarms by Debbie Harris

19 Thursday Mar 2026

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

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Throne of Uncreated Flame

Beyond the curtain of our night,
Where galaxies in silence spin,
A throne ascends through realms of light,
Where dawn and vesper melt within.

Its frame is jasper, veined with fire,
A carnelian heart that glows;
Around it arcs a rainbow spire,
Emerald-hued, where mercy flows.

No mortal eye could bear the blaze
That pours from Him who sits enthroned;
Yet seraphim, with wings ablaze,
Hide trembling faces, overawed.

Their sixfold pinions beat as one,
A storm of feathers tipped in gold;
Their voices rise like molten sun—
“Holy, holy, holy,” told.

The cry ignites the crystal sea,
A glassy mirror vast and still,
Reflecting lightning’s jagged spree
And thunder’s deep, unbroken will.

Seven torches dance before the throne,
Seven spirits, living flame;
Their sparks ascend like seeds unsown,
To kindle stars and call His name.

Twenty-four elders, robed in snow,
Their crowns of purest gold they fling;
They fall as waves of worship flow,
Before the Ancient of all Being.

And then the scroll, sealed sevenfold,
Lies weeping in the hand of night—
No one in heaven, earth, or hold
Could break its chains of shadowed might.

Until the Lion steps from Judah’s line,
The Root of David, fierce and bright;
Yet lo, a slaughtered Lamb divine
Stands bleeding still in deathless light.

His wounds are rubies, open, deep,
Each scar a river red and wide;
The elders fall, the creatures weep,
As heaven’s chorus swells with pride:

“Worthy the Lamb who tasted death,
To take the scroll and loose its seal!
Worthy the One who gave His breath,
That broken hearts might rise and heal!”

Ten thousand times ten thousand sing,
A sea of voices, white as foam;
Myriads upon myriads ring
The throne where love has made its home.

King of kings—no diadem of man
Can crown the brow that bore the thorn;
Lord of lords—the scepter in His hand
Is mercy’s rod, by justice born.

Amid the Tempest’s Roar

Amid the clamor of the age,
Where banners bleed and nations seethe,
Where drones in shadowed swarms engage
And rockets carve their paths of grief—

Smoke coils thick from shattered fields,
The earth recoils beneath the weight;
Shaheds and Sejjils streak like yields
Of hellish harvest, sealing fate.

In Ukraine’s frost, the swarms descend,
Iranian waves crash on Israel’s shore;
Hezbollah’s barrages never end,
While Gulf skies burn with missile lore.

Tehran reels as bunker-busters fall,
Beirut ignites in rocket rain;
From Kharkiv’s ruins to southern wall,
The air itself cries out in pain.

Yet turn thine eyes, O weary soul,
Beyond the smoke, the drone’s cold hum;
Above the thunder’s blackest roll
Shines forth the Throne where mercies come.

There Jesus sits in robes of flame,
His wounds like rubies, ever bright;
His scepter stills the wildest claim,
His gaze dissolves the endless night.

No drone can breach that crystal sea,
No rocket pierce those emerald walls;
The Lamb who triumphed over death’s decree
Reigns high where every tumult falls.

Fix here thy heart, let not alarm
Steal peace from those He calls His own;
For He who calms the fiercest storm
Has promised: “Fear not—I sit enthroned.”

In this dark hour, let worship rise
Like incense through the battle’s drone;
The King returns with pierced hands and eyes—
Our hope, our peace, forever known.

O Jesus Christ, our eyes would rise
To drink the splendor of Thy face;
Till faith gives way to open skies
And we behold Thee, full of grace.

Let lightning flash, let thunder roll,
Let every creature, far and near,
Proclaim with one unbroken soul:
“The Lamb is worthy—ever, here!”

May this frail song ascend as myrrh,
A trembling vapor to Thy throne;
Until the veil of time shall stir
And we shall know as we are known. Amen.

The Devil Does Not Fear a Mighty Cathedral Filled with Multitudes; He Trembles Before a Humble Church on Its Knees in Prayer, Where Two or Three Are Gathered in the Name of Jesus Christ by Debbie Harris

15 Sunday Mar 2026

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

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No towers grand nor throngs that fill the nave
Strike terror in the dark prince’s breast;
He mocks the pomp of marble, gold, and stave,
Where multitudes in idle worship rest.

The bells may ring, the organs thunder loud,
The crowds may surge like rivers to the door;
Yet Satan smiles amid the pious crowd,
For empty hearts leave heaven’s gate ajar.

But lo! when humble souls in secret meet,
Two or three gathered in the Savior’s name,
Their whispered prayers ascend on wingèd feet,
And Jesus comes—His presence kindles flame.

Then trembles hell; the ancient serpent flees,
His kingdom quakes before such quiet might.
No sword of man, no host in panoplies,
Can match the power of contrite souls in light.

A single candle lit by faith sincere
Outshines the blaze of ten thousand torches bright;
In lowly prayer the victory draws near,
And darkness yields unto the Lord’s true light.

O devil, fear the closet, fear the knee,
Fear hearts united, bowed in Jesus’ name;
For where His Spirit dwells in unity,
Thy reign is broken—evermore the same.

Empty Hands Raised in Victory’s Tide: Longing to Do More for My Precious Savior by Debbie Harris

01 Sunday Mar 2026

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

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I wish I could do more, my Lord, my King,
For You who gave everything—
Your hands pierced, Your side torn wide,
To raise me up in victory’s tide.

Yet here I stand with empty hands,
A heart that burns, yet scarce began
To match the grace that set me free,
The boundless love You poured on me.

Still, in the quiet, small and true,
I offer what my soul can do:
A whispered praise at break of day,
A step of faith along Your way.

A cup of water given kind,
A listening ear, a soul aligned—
These humble threads, though frail they seem,
You weave into a greater dream.

So take my “more,” though small it be,
And multiply it, Lord, through me.
Until that day I see Your face,
And all my striving finds its place.

In Your mercy, let it be enough—
My all for You, my precious love.

Thoughts Worth Dwelling On: The Blessed Hope of the Rapture and the Glorious Government of Our Lord Jesus Christ by Debbie Harris

18 Sunday Jan 2026

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

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6 Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
7 And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
9 Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you.

Phillipians 4:6-9 KJV

O set your heart on things above,
Where Christ shall soon descend in love;
The trumpet sound, the archangel’s cry—
True promise lifts our gaze on high.

What is more true than His sure word?
The dead in Christ shall rise first, assured;
Caught up together in clouds we soar,
To meet the Lord forevermore.

What is more honorable, more just,
Than the King returning in power and trust?
No longer meek upon a lowly ass,
But crowned in glory, the First and Last.

What is more pure than spotless grace,
That calls His bride to yonder place?
Washed white as snow, without a stain,
In robes of righteousness we reign.

How lovely is that day of light,
When shadows flee before His sight!
The earth restored, the curse undone,
Peace flowing like a river’s run.

What good report shall echo wide?
The government on His shoulder abides—
Justice and mercy in perfect blend,
A thousand years of joy without end.

No tyrant sways, no wicked thrives,
For righteousness forever lives;
The wolf with lamb in harmony lies,
The knowledge of the Lord fills earth and skies.

If there be any virtue, any praise,
Then fix your thoughts these coming days:
The rapture’s hope, the throne of gold,
Where Christ is King, and love untold.

Let not the storms of earth prevail,
Nor fleeting fears your peace assail;
But dwell upon this glorious theme—
Our soon-coming Savior, our reigning King supreme.

Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus, come!
In this sweet meditation, find your home.

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

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(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

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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

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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

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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.