Scarlet Robe Creations

  One moment, He is the one longed for, by those whose lives are lived in need of blessing. He is the one who the learned dispise, the one who has come to change what they've manipulated. One moment, He is the one the crowds anoint. He is the one they clamor to, the one who has defended them against authority's stain, the one who told the harlot she was of value in the kingdom. One moment, He is the one challenged for telling a cripple to dance and giving vision to he who could not see, while pointing out the blindness of those who claim to have sight. One moment, He is received as a king, exulted as the one long promised, the one who will crush the serpent's head and cause the high priest to rend his garment. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

The Procession in the Streets of Jerusalem - James Tissot We celebrated him, one moment, palms rising above our heads, a song of David on our lips. We are the simple, those who mourned for Lazarus, and witnessed the miracle. We celebrated him, the rider on a donkey, the one sent to save, the one the priests would refute. For now we dance, irritating the pious and the unjust. But this moment of pauper victory will be short in time. There is a final stand to be made, by those who answer prophecy unwittingly, those who seek comfort in political ties, those who have fashioned a cross and forged the nails of salvation. We celebrated him, and for a brief moment there was sheer joy. Hosanna, my king and my anointed. Hosanna, my savior and my God. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Christ's Entry Into Jerusalem - Jean-Hippolyte Flandrin "Who is he?" Sara cried as she followed her father through the crowd. Since she was barely seven years old, her father held tightly to her hand.  Her older brother Caleb had moved ahead.  Her question went unanswered. "Is this to do with Passover?" she asked, confused by the apparent celebration. She felt her responsibilities were back home, with her mother.  The festival was near.  There would be many pilgrims coming to the city and flocking to the temple. She knew all the stories about her people being led out of Egypt.  She knew about the manna, the quail, the bitter water, and the golden calf.  Her mother would recite, from memory, words she had heard read from the scrolls.  She knew the blood of a lamb was important for the festival at hand, so was the wooden frame around their door.  Her father slowed.  The crowd ahead was shouting, chanting words about kings and the anointed....

"Prosperity knits a man to the world" -  C S Lewis - Screwtape Letters Wealth, success, and worldliness, even the priest on the altar blurs the reflection. It is difficult for one to slip through the needle's eye when endowed by the world's blessing. The kingdom will be full of paupers, simpletons, and rouges. For it is easier for those without to sever the ties of a world, broken, and normalizing its indulgences. Fix yourself to God's word. Hold fast to His truth when the world's ideology is flawed. Listen to those who speak from pulpits with a single agenda. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com “Paupers, simpletons and rogues” from the song “Surely God Is With Us” by Rich Mullins

Jesus Wept - James Tissot I had come to comfort the sisters.  Their brother had succumbed to a brief illness and they were very distraught.  I had not seen any of the siblings in a number of years.  We grew up together.  At one time, their brother, Lazarus, and I were good friends.  But growing up into adulthood put distance between us.  I must confess, I didn't make any effort to take the two day journey, from my home to theirs, while Lazarus was still alive.  In my guilt, I took care of pressing business and set off for Bethany after Lazarus had passed. I arrived on the morning of the fourth day and went directly to the tomb.  I was fairly certain both sisters had been there before my arrival, along with some other close family members and friends.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to face them just yet.  I knew most of those friends had probably paid a visit to Lazarus during his sickness.  I felt another wave of remorse for not having ...

Oh my people, I will open your graves Ezekiel 37:12 Restoration of a people trampled by the sword, a chosen nation, gathered by a covenant. I will bring you back for y ou are mine. Renewal of faith, bind your soul with your creator, and stand in his presence. I will  walk before you without fail. Resurrection of life, once dead bones, dried in the valley's heat, embraced by a promise. I will open your graves  and you will know me. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Mount Moriah, carrying wood and bindings, Isaac, the long awaited of Abraham, submissive to the Father, protected from the blade. Mount Moriah, Solomon picks the first stone, laid out as designed, a temple for sacrifice, the LORD's provision, a lamb without blemish. Mount Moriah, where Roman spikes impale flesh to a beam, the final lamb, the perfect son, brings the gentiles to God. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Healing the blind man - Carl Bloch There is work that must be done, now, while there is still light. Darkness will come soon. It will bear the might of an empire and wear the cloak of rejection, on those chosen to bring forth the light. He is the world's light. He will walk through the dark valley and rise on the third day. The serpent will strike His heel, His wrists, His side. But the Father's light is eternal. Rise up, those of you who shield yourselves from the gaze of hate. Salvation has come, a bright star on a hill. He calls out, forgiving sinners and promising eternity to those who simply ask. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

“Elder!” Three young men called out after dragging their small wooden craft onto the shore.  The old man, the one known to them only as elder, sat at the front of a cave.  He was feeding twigs to a small fire.  As the three men approached, he looked up and smiled. “We are friends of Lydia,” one of the three said. “She sends her greetings.” “Lydia, sweet Lydia,” the old man said with a sing-song rhythm. “She said you would give us audience.” The old man’s attention returned to the fire.  He laid a couple dried twigs over the glowing embers. “I had considered allowing the coals to cool.  But now I see that I have company.  Join me.  I have some bread.” The three men gathered around the meager smoldering pile of ash.  The elder presented a Barley loaf.  He tore chunks off it and handed a piece to each of his visitors. “We did not come to eat your food,” the man who spoke of Lydia said.  He wore a beard, and had a shawl pulle...