Scarlet Robe Creations

“You know I’m broken,” she says.   He nods, understanding her need to continue her story without interruption.   “I’ve never been loved.   Not a real love.   I’ve been used.   People have said they loved me, but they always wanted something in return.   That’s the way it is with love… right?   It’s never free.”   “You think there’s a monetary price?” He asks.   She pauses for a moment, but responds before he can fill the void. “No not monetary.   Sometimes I wish that’s all that was involved, money.   Sometimes the price is pain, emotional, physical.   Sometimes there is humiliation.   I’ve been stripped, I bear my soul… and then I’m tossed out like the trash.”   “That isn’t love.”   “They call it love.”   “Just saying,” he adds.   “My mother called it love.”   “But do you think it was love?” He asks.   “I wanted her to love me.   She told me once she considered abortion.   I feel so...

  I hide from my guilt, thinking I can hide from You. But You see my iniquities even though, I have covered my flesh.   You call out to me, in the evening of that day, when I have listened to those who speak out against You.   They say I am no less than You and I except their unbelief. They slander Your name and I do not defend the light in my darkness.   Where are you, the voice beckoning through my guilt. I am here, less innocent, less a child. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

I pulled up in front of the mobile home, in my dark blue Mustang, on a warm spring morning.   Martha Hoyle had contacted my office through our web page.   She was temporarily homebound and willing to help our ministry in any way possible.   I had to admit, some of the work available to home workers was monotonous.   We were years beyond stuffing envelopes, but the data entry work offered held very little excitement for those I interviewed.  Martha opened the door before I had a chance to knock.   She was in her middle sixties, a bit rounded in the middle and the victim of a recent heart attack.   Her doctors wanted her to refrain from driving for a while.   Thus, her reason to contact my group and offer her services. She asked me to enter without any reservation, which always surprised me.   I’m in my early twenties, having left college to go into ministry on a grant.   I’m a casual person, jeans, sport shirt and hiking boots.  ...

Christ the Saviour - Byzantine Icon Make your face shine upon your servant, and teach me your statutes.   Psalm 119:135   Look upon me, for in Your sight I am refreshed. In You darkness has no stronghold. You are light and Your gaze is lovely.   I stand enthralled in the glory of Your majesty. I am but a single pebble in the sand, yet You know me and have shaped me.   Your words, Your decrees, I long to learn, that only Your light, divine, will shine upon my face, casting out every shadow.   Lord, teach me to stand upright, when my enemies wage war and You are my hope, first and last, forever in victory. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

I've seen these three words. I've read them. I've written about them. I know that before they are spoken there are storm clouds and the sea is in turmoil. How firm will your trust be if those three words are spoken into the wind, into the choppy waves? Will you watch the lightning that precedes? Will you shelter yourself from the torrent? Will you hide your face from the dark clouds? Or will you hear those three words, Quiet, be still, and still be afraid? copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

Ordination' by Nicolas Poussin, 1630s They came from various walks of life. They followed. There were eight, nine, ten, and then there were twelve. "Did you hear him?" Asked one bystander. "Did you listen?" Asked another. "He speaks of wheat and weeds," said a third. They move from town to town, the eight, nine, ten, and twelve. They draw others to them always to follow, as they follow. "I ate fish," said one who dined. "There was plenty," said another. "It might have been a miracle," said a third. Some rebuke, those with power to lose. They criticize the one who stands as a shepherd before the eight, nine, ten, and twelve. The one says He is good. He says His flesh is bread. He says He will spill out His wine. He carries a beam of wood without followers. Yesterday there were twelve, ten, nine, eight. Now there is one, and His mother. "I heard he raised up a dead friend," said one with a sword. "He made clai...

When I was a young man I dreamt of being a musician. For a long time notes became a hobby. I dreamt of being a writer. At present, that is a hobby. I became a husband, a father, a grandfather. That is a life. In this life we need to follow the path the Lord has set out for us, not the one we would choose to set out for ourselves. copyright 2023 0 Donald P James Jr

Heinrich Hofmann, "Christ and the Rich Young Ruler", 1889 "Define for me, love," he said to the teacher. "You tell me," the teacher replied as he scratched his thick white beard. "If I love, do I not accept you as you are?" he asked. "Do you?  Do you affirm everything that I am?" "I guess so." The teacher sat on the surface of a flat stone.  He crossed his legs and studied his student. "What is the greatest piece of literature?" "I guess with all its translations, I would have to say the Bible." "And what does the Bible say about love?" the teacher asked. "That we should love God and our neighbor..." The teacher held up a hand, stopping his student. "You are describing and action of love, but not love.  Wouldn't you say that the act of a man giving his life for another, is an act of love?" "But... that is an action as well," the student responded. "Ahh, so lo...