Scarlet Robe Creations

It is torn now, from top to bottom. Once woven of blue, purple and scarlet. The veil that separated, divided, barred  God's immediate presence from those who offered sacrifice. The fabric that recounts Eden, Adam, Eve, and choices made, reminding man of his sin. It is torn now, from top to bottom. They have led the lamb, thorns and stripes, to slaughter. He has forgiven those who struck Him, embraced His piercings. His blood has cleansed those who stand outside the veil, God's presence  has walked among His people. He is no longer to be separated, divided, barred, because He has come to you as a man, He has come to you in love, and He bore your sin. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Is love like the seal set against your heart, the glory of the morning and the peacefulness of night? Is love like the sweetest fruit, one not forbidden if the Lord does bless each breath of desire? Is love like an embrace of adoration, two hearts cherishing comfort beneath the gaze of their creator? Is love like the clay in the palm of His hand, molded in the image of one who loves? copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Does this grief, you wonder, this deep gut wrenching grief, serve as a penance for your iniquities?  Does that word ‘Iniquities’ even come close to describing the vile act you have performed?  Innocence, you have given innocent blood to the brood of thirsty vipers. You are a puppet with broken strings.   Dangling without a marionette to control your movements.   You have done the bidding of those who never saw you as anything more than a fool. You lean back against a half dead tree and look out over the field.   Your hands are clasped together as if in prayer, but who would listen to any plea of yours, even if you asked for mercy, after what you’ve done.   You tip your head back and look up at that one solid branch, a single limb extending from the trunk.   You brought the rope.   It’s lying on the dead grass beside you. What have you done! He called you out, before you had made your move.   Told you to do what you must.   How co...

Woe Unto You - James Tissot Tell us plainly if you are who you say. We grow tired of parables, stories you manipulate the morals to. If you are, then let us know. Perhaps in hearing that you truly are, we might come to believe. A few miracles and talk of a kingdom, we just want to hear if you are who the crowd proclaims. Tell us plainly, we need simply a 'yes' or a 'no'. The paupers, harlots,  and those who faked their diseases, they seem to think you are something more than a vagabond drifter with soothing words. Tell us plainly that we might find a reason to accuse you of being who they desperately need. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Is it only now that we see, once the beams have been stained by His blood? Is it only now that we gaze upward, wondering about a kingdom? He spoke of the realm of peace, saying it was upon us despite the world's violence, but did we see it before, catching so much as a glimpse, when he walked among the crowds? Is it only now that we see, the scars left by thorns and scourging? Is it only now that we realize the emptiness, of that which we have ignored? copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

James Tissot - The Curse Are we lost, without hope? We knowingly seek our desires, abhorrent to God, without concern for the eternal. Paul said, he did what he hated, He caressed sin. He struggled to avoid the sweet fruits he detested. Are we lost, without hope, having sought the knowledge of evil and bitten to the core? Is there a chance for redemption? Jesus said, he is the only way, the only truth, the only life. He is the shepherd who seeks the lost, the farmer who sows good seed, The one who waits on home’s front porch. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Somewhere, away from the noise and clutter of this superficial life, there is home, a place longed for, a place sought with earnest. Somewhere, back down a road I considered, in the mirror behind, not out of sight, a time when I could listen to the voice that gives me breath. Somewhere, just around the nearest corner, a path few chose, a trail of joy the answer to every saints quest, the embrace every sinner seeks. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Thomas Cole - The Garden of Eden I planted gardens each with rows uneven. I scattered seed by hand, hoping for rain and sun while thorns and thistles bloom. He plants gardens, Eden, by the rivers, and one with a borrowed tomb. Life flourishes by His touch. He cast out seeds of life, love and His word. He waters the crops with grace. He plants gardens to fill the void. He brings the rains and the light of the sun. He nourishes faith. I planted a garden and hoped weeds would not multiply. He plants a garden and gives man all that he needs. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

  They bypassed her.   The hood of her twenty-year-old Dodge was raised in the air, advertising her unfortunate situation.   Maybe the steam wasn’t noticeable.   The four ways were flashing, competing with the bright sun of the new morning.   A car approached from the direction she had come.   The passenger glanced, a woman, blond, maybe in her early forties, or late thirties.   It appeared as if she looked right through the broken-down vehicle at the side of the road, not taking notice of the elderly woman wearing a light blue dress and a white sweater.   They were on their way to church.   They were late. She watched the shiny dark blue sedan turn into the parking lot of Saint Stephen’s a short distance up the road.   It wasn’t a cold morning for early September, still she wrapped her frail arms around her body to keep warm.   The state road was rather quiet, not containing any of the dangers of a high-speed highway.   Mild...