Scarlet Robe Creations

And he said,  “Hagar,  slave of Sarai, where have you come from, and where are you going?” Genesis 16:8 Bernardo Strozzi - Hagar and the Angel 1603 You are the God who sees me. In my affliction, You stood Beside me on the road to Shur. You reveal yourself when I have run to nowhere. I stand in the desert, a homeless slave. Yahweh, You come and promise descendants, You make a covenant with a slave. God hears, and the child of both nations will be born, amidst blood and hostility. My future is not in the hands of my master, but the arms of my God. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr

She was a bit young for ministry.  She wondered if that was how the congregation thought.  But she was here because of circumstances beyond her control.  The church was small.  She'd grown up in it and had now returned.  She sat back and listened to the small choir sing out, 'The Church is One Foundation', and considered her place within these walls. There'd been a thought running around in her head the last few days.  She managed to get a grasp on it last night during prayer.  She jotted down a few notes and brushed them up while eating a piece of toast before service.  She was nervous and knew it showed in her voice, when she gave a morning blessing to those in attendance. The Gospel reading had been from the Book of John, Chapter 2, verses 13 to 22.  She read God's word as put on parchment by the apostle.  After reading the passages last night she pondered arguments of religious men as to who wrote the Gospel.  She believed the writer was the apostle.  Debates ab

By the Waters of Babylon , painting by  Arthur Hacker , c.  1888 Loss and hope, we sit here and weep, remembering what we had. The good days have faded, those we took for granted. The world says be joyful for what we have accomplished, I am sad for what we've lost. I hang my harp in the willow. I will not sing for your cause, nor will I dance. How can I say, this life, the one the world adores, Is better than any other. Loss and hope, the waters of Babylon flow by. This world seems foreign. The songs sung here are in languages I cannot understand. For on one day they burnt the holy city. On the next they crucified love. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr

Inspired by a line in Mike Pinder's song 'Have You Heard' Recorded by the Moody Blues, on the album 'Threshold of a Dream' Scatter good seed in the fields. The line of a song stays in my mind for days. Have you heard? The song writer asks the question. I have listened to the melody. I have sung the words in beat with the spinning disc of vinyl. But have I scattered seed, and is any of it good. It's odd, how the focus of my mind holds on to those worlds. The rest of the song, though beautiful and prophetic, doesn't strike me today, as those words do. Scatter good seed in the field. Sometimes I need to remind myself that these words are seed. They can bring out good, or evil. It is a matter of how they are scattered and where they land. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr

The two old friends met most mornings at the park entrance.   They would slowly wander the path which led along the east side of the pond until they came to a wooden bench they considered their own.   They had each reached the age of seventy-nine in the past six months.   Elmer Benson was a widower, having lost his wife three years ago.   Paul Hagerty’s wife had been placed in a convalescent home a year ago with late stage Alzheimer’s. They both took a seat on the bench and watched a pair of ducks swim along the pond’s edge.   A young boy and a middle-aged man stopped to view the waterfowl. “I stopped by the home yesterday afternoon,” Paul said. “Don’t you most days?” Elmer asked, knowing his friend suffered the pain of visiting his wife daily. “She hasn’t known who I am now for nearly three months.   For a while she would seem to come and go.   My heart aches for her to come back one more time.” “Your Alice is a good soul,” Elmer offered. “So why does she need to go on lik

Miles Conrad coughed deeply as his son sat at the conference table and opened a file. "Maybe you should be home, like the doctor's said," Daryl said. Miles was proud of his eldest.  He had graduated near the top of his class at Harvard Law School.  Miles intended to make him a partner at Conrad, Jennings and Horwitz.  Daryl had expressed an interest in setting up a practice of his own, somewhere other than his hometown.  Still, he promised to hold down his father's end of the business until the elder man's health improved. "We could have done this at home," Daryl added once his father had stopped clearing his lungs. Miles Conrad had smoked in his youth.  He gave it up fifteen years ago.  Too late, the tar and nicotine had done their damage. "Not staying in bed like some invalid.  There are things worse than radiation and chemo." "Not many," Daryl said under his breath. "So, have the changes been made that Nicolas requested?"

  Share, Share, Share.... Please https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CG84MWZ8 Afternoons with Mister D is now available on Amazon and is available in both print and eBook formats.