Scarlet Robe Creations

Some days I struggle. Do you? I wish for tomorrow to push today aside. I want the voice beckoning me to stillness, to give way to silence. I am an overeager bundle of thoughts I cannot put to music or paper. I want another moment, forging its way into the present. I don't seek solace in today. The Psalm I read this morning, while my coffee was hot, has lost its meaning by mid-day. In the routine of the day my office fills with shallow voices of faithless ideals. Prayer is for a church, or by your bedside, but not where others may be of witness. Some days I struggle. Do You? I tried to read John, chapter 1 and found myself staring at words of type and not the thoughts of our Father. Today the sun shines tomorrow it might rain. I want neither weather pattern to affect me. I want to sit in a field with one book, written by one author, hearing the voice of my creator and listening to no other. copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr

The leaf takes on the hue of autumn and the Father of all gives his consent. Just as the sparrow sings a final song before leaving this life. The LORD hears its song and is aware of its death. The leaf, changing color and falling to the earth, the LORD has counted each one and witnessed their dances of glory, their dances of praise, their dances of worship. The sparrows, He has bestowed upon them every song ever escaping their throats. He is the author of every note and the beauty of their songs glorify His being. Little ones He has counted every breath to ever fill your lungs. He has made note of each tear, each smile to ever decorate your face. Little ones change your colors gracefully, as He wills it. Dance in praise of Him whenever you sing, be it the first song from your lips or the last. copyright 2005 - Donald P James Jr  

This world is a fortress for unbelievers. Those at the podium curse God and slander His word. They mock His decree, saying faith is outdated and intolerant. But the world has build its castles on sand. It has rejected the cornerstone which would have held firm throughout every storm. It has removed prayer from its vocabulary and peace from its heart. In fits of anger they curse the children of God, with words vile, while considering themselves to be righteous. But the justice of the Lord will prevail. His compassion will tear down the walls of sin, softening hearts of stone. Like a bride, or a virgin with lamp well lit, those who come out from beyond the fortress of the world will not be disappointed. copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr

Carl Heinrich Bloch - Woman at the Well He asks me for a drink of water.   The man, a Jew, who sees me for what I am, but still, does not condemn my flesh. I have known many like him, those who claim a special union with the God of my ancestors. Do I know of Messiah? Do I believe he will come to rescue the house of Israel?   Is Samaria included in the liberation? Stories, told by my angry father.   Stories told by a couple of my husbands, amid laughter and cheap wine, I do not share this thought with the Jew at the well. He looks to be neither a warrior nor a charlatan. Why would he ask me for a drink?   My ancestors worshiped on this mountain.   We do not journey to the temple in Jerusalem and offer doves and unblemished lambs to God.   He should not consider us clean. He speaks of life giving water, living water.   I will never thirst again if I drink the water he offers.   How can that be, the dust of this l...

There are those who will see who until this moment have been blind. Those who have walked in darkness, the shadows of emptiness, who will turn toward the light. Some who have never heard will understand with more clarity  than scholars. And those who have never felt peace shall be wrapped in its embrace. The kings of this world are broken. Their iron fists of rule have turned to dust, their armies are bones scattered in the desert sand. Listen to the distant melodies. Pay attention to the glory in the clouds. The servant returns prepared for a battle you cannot comprehend. copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr