Scarlet Robe Creations

Jesus sternly told the evil spirits not to tell anyone who He was.  Mark 3:12 Gustave Doré - Jesus Healing the Man Possessed with a Devil They were not to speak Your name, the evil that possesses men. They whispered in vile tongues when recognizing Your lineage. You ordered their silence when cast out from flesh and bone. Return to the bowels of a realm where sin festers without rest. The thing that screams when torn from the soul tastes Your name on its vile tongue. Filth of a demon cannot touch Your purity. Evil cannot pay heed to Your goodness. The order is stern and shadows submit, without choice, to the light. You hold governance over every entity created. For it is said, that once Satan, like Judas, was one of Yours. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

This is the cornerstone, the one tossed from the pile, considered rubble. This is the most valuable aspect, of all possible foundations faith should be built upon. This is the chosen piece of rock, rough at the edges and not perfectly square. The builder sees its lack of value, blindness hinders the sighted, innocence gives you vision. This is My rock, a voice filling the ages, a song known in deep recesses. This is the cornerstone, viewed by men as flawed, seen by God as perfect. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr  https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author  

Zurbaran - Lamb of God Lamb of God, offered in ransom for my soul, in place of my flesh, submitting Yourself to an agonizing death, nails, thorns, thirst, suffocation, so I might find Your father's forgiveness. You are not a burnt offering on the altars of heathens. You are flesh and blood on a cross of wood, a tree fashioned by unbelievers, erected on a hill outside the walls of Your holy city. Lamb of God, You take all hatred onto Your tortured body. A thorn for every vice, a spike for a thousand different sins. You absorb the gossip and slander of the world. You embrace the forsaken and the hopeless. You forgive every betrayal and denial, that we might draw toward You. Lamb offered in my place do not count the days of my desperate ploys to be Pilate, Judas, Caiaphas, rather remember the few moments when I have cried at Your feet, listened to Your sermons, or waved branches in the street. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr

Carl Bloch - "The Doubting Thomas" Doubt, filled with the essence  of my own demise. Others have spoken of their insights. Am I jealous that I was not in the room, or have I always been skeptical? Doubt, it can't be cured by a sermon, no matter if His word is built on your foundation. I have always questioned what I can't see or touch. Doubt, my fingers probe the wounds, the open sores where they pierced you. Not only are my eyes given proof, but my hands as well. Doubt, is there a deeper blessing to faith when we believe without seeing? Is there more intimacy in our innocent trust when we can't trace His wounds, but know they are there? copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr

Death, where is your victory? Where is your sting? 1 Corinthians 15:55   Death, you have me no longer in your withered grasp. The lamb has been slain and risen again in more glory than darkness will ever perceive.  You have no victory. He has defeated every effort made against Him. Your sting is but a mild irritant, because His tomb is empty. Death, you have no claim on me. Break me, fill me with vile disease, still I will rise to walk beside my Lord in the garden once forsaken.  copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr

O Lord , how many are my foes!  They rise up against me; Psalm 3:1    They challenge Your promise, saying You cannot protect me from their desire to cause me harm, but when their threats mount You shield me. You show me the path to victory. I lie in the fields at night, like a shepherd with his sheep. I rest soundly, knowing You stand beside me Lord, protecting me from my enemies assault. I am not afraid, although I am one and they are many. For You hear my prayer of submission, trusting, You will save Your beloved. Lord, bless the people You call Your own, bring them victory when defeat stalks them, bring them peace when their enemy brings war. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr

Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; And you who have no money come, buy grain and eat. Isaiah 55:1  Are you thirsty? Is your throat parched? Then come to the water, a living stream. You will not leave unsatisfied. If you are poor, without food and shelter, come and rest, eat and drink. Wine, milk and honey, abundant and free. Why do you spend what you have without satisfaction. You consume that which is not bread, drink tainted water. No wonder you starve and thirst for more. Eat your fill, of food rich. Drink until your dried throat is no more. His word comes to you like a fountain. You will eat at His banquet, invited by the master. Are you thirsty? Is your throat parched? Then let Him wrap His arms around you and make an eternal covenant through the gift of His love. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr 

Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? Psalm 2:1 Why do we wage war, laying out plans to take from one another. Kings, dictators and governors of state plot their revolts against their creator. They shout, let us be free, let us throw off the cloak of our ruler. They mock the Lord and maim His people with spears and arrows. Kings, dictators and governors of state, you are not as strong or wise as you believe. You are pawns in your own game. The one God laughs at your feeble efforts to dethrone His chosen. He warns them, like the children they are, still they step out with weapons of hate and wage their wars. Your nails will wound Him. Your thorns will scar His brow. But the cross of splintering wood will stand as a victory until He rules again. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr

Silence in the morning before the buds have awakened, gathering on branches of spring. Soldiers clad in another faith, who guard a tomb, carved from stone. Those who've beaten the flesh and nailed the limbs. Silence in the morning before the hearts of the chosen have been opened, gathering in empty rooms of fear. copyright 1995 - Donald P James Jr 

  Standing in a crowd of mourning and jeers. The mast is raised high, waving in the breeze, over his nation, I srael. How I wish I had the courage to console those who cry out in His name, but my fears and sins of righteousness dominate me. How dark the day becomes in the hearts of those who You've chosen to walk among. Those who You've chosen to send out among the gentiles. copyright 1996 - Donald P James Jr