Scarlet Robe Creations

He had a coffee in front of him.  He took a sip.  Cream no sugar.  The waitress smiled.  She knew his preference like a well-read book. "I saw you at church, again, last Sunday," he said, before adding, "And I'll have the usual." "Instead of three eggs over easy, I could have the cook make you a western with the leftover meatloaf.  It's only a buck more, and I know you like the meatloaf." "Sounds good" he replied. "With home fries and a couple biscuits." She gave him a broad smile before turning toward the kitchen and calling the order in to the rounded bald guy at the grill.  Sizzling bacon and the aroma of coffee filled the senses.  The bacon was for a customer back in one of the booths, to accompany a trio of fried eggs. The waitress turned back with a fresh pot of coffee and topped off his mug. "Does four weeks in a row make me some sort of a holy roller?" she asked. "You could have come and sat with me.  You ...

Forty-three years, so much has changed. Yet all that is important stays the same. There are promises and tears, children, and a generation to follow. There are times to ponder from where we have come and moments to consider what lies ahead. Forty-three years, a grain of sand on a beach. We have walked hand-in-hand, heart-to-heart, soul-to-soul in the gaze of the one who brought us here. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Be it now a time that you turn. Another day, another hour, be it not one wasted. Be it now that you take what is offered, a sliver of wood, a single thorn, mercy for your failures. Be it now, before the gates are closed. He calls you and me by name, come now while there is time. opyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

How often do we praise Him for the rain? As a farmer, perhaps, we would have a deep understanding of soil and seeds. How often do we praise Him for gray skies? A day of solemn thought, reflection, intimate prayers and a deeper focus on God. How often do we praise Him for puddles? A small child would, dancing in rubber boots while singing a favorite song. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

I see the dawn, sunrise approaching. Radiant tones shift overhead, colors of day from the beginning. I see clouds, bringing changes of warmth and cooling. Storms ride by their sails, submissive to a single voice. I see the smiling countenance of the designer of all. A voice that spoke into the void and made the garden of life. I witness the sun slip over the trees. A new day is fulfilled. My soul sings a psalm as the heavens declare the glory of God. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

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...

Have mercy, a sinner, a thief unable to withstand the nails of his crime. Have mercy, I betray, I deny, I kneel in your sight knowing I have eaten the fruit. Have mercy, no other way for the wretched to come before you and touch the wound in your side. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

My name is Flavius.   I am a subordinate assigned to the procurator overseeing this forsaken piece of dry earth.   It is difficult to see it any other way.   I should not complain.   I am fortunate to have this position.   Our military strength here is solid.   They have suppressed every uprising, making an example of those who seek to defy the empire.   Still, there are better places to serve. I woke just before the sun began to creep over the horizon.   I open the shutters and gazed out into the courtyard as the sun began to push the night back toward Hades.   The Jews speak of the world of darkness, calling it Gehenna.   I wonder if there is such a place, and if so, are we destined to embrace it, their view along with our own. What have we done?   I have pondered this thought during my waking hours, and in the dark void of night I found very little sleep.   These Jews and their monotheistic god are a strange lot.   ...

A stone is pushed away. A tomb carved in ancient rock is empty except for the linen cloth of burial. An open cavern. A borrowed cave where salvation was laid, torn flesh and broken bread. A stone is pushed away. A void of yesterday, conquered, when the empty world of death gave way to life. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Jesus in Herod's Court - Duccio di Buoninsegna Perform a miracle for me. Herod in his gaiety, pleased to be in the audience of one submissive, one who does not defend himself. What foolish questions can a puppet king ask? Are you what the uneducated claim? Are you the cousin of the one whose head was severed at Salome's request? Perform a miracle for me. Perhaps the display could prove their claim. But silence is clung to in exchange. Maybe you don't understand the power standing before you, asking questions quite simple. Are you the fantasy the scrolls speak of? Perform a miracle for me. A pauper, not a king. Touch my eyes with spittle and mud that I might see. Place your finger in my ear that I might hear. Call me out from the tomb that I might live. Perform a miracle for me, Lord, when the time is right, not for the glory of a dancing fool, but for the glory of my God. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www...

Jesus Bearing the Cross - James Tissot Lord, you did this for me, a cross, a crown of thorns, whipped in a courtyard. Lord, you did this for those I love, my family, friends, those who fill my prayers. Lord, you did this for my neighbor, the one who says good morning, if we pass on the street. Lord, you did this for my enemies, the one who strikes me, the one who slanders, the one who condemns me for believing in you. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Thorns and thistles, a curse upon the soil, laboring for sustenance. Thorns and thistles, the consequence of a relationship, broken, between the creator and the created. Thorns and thistles, futility of rejection, a hinderance to the life promised. Thorns and thistles, He takes the curse upon His flesh. We are ransomed. Thorns and thistles, a sign of mercy, a helmet of mockery, love bleeds on a cross for our sins. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

  One moment, He is the one longed for, by those whose lives are lived in need of blessing. He is the one who the learned dispise, the one who has come to change what they've manipulated. One moment, He is the one the crowds anoint. He is the one they clamor to, the one who has defended them against authority's stain, the one who told the harlot she was of value in the kingdom. One moment, He is the one challenged for telling a cripple to dance and giving vision to he who could not see, while pointing out the blindness of those who claim to have sight. One moment, He is received as a king, exulted as the one long promised, the one who will crush the serpent's head and cause the high priest to rend his garment. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

The Procession in the Streets of Jerusalem - James Tissot We celebrated him, one moment, palms rising above our heads, a song of David on our lips. We are the simple, those who mourned for Lazarus, and witnessed the miracle. We celebrated him, the rider on a donkey, the one sent to save, the one the priests would refute. For now we dance, irritating the pious and the unjust. But this moment of pauper victory will be short in time. There is a final stand to be made, by those who answer prophecy unwittingly, those who seek comfort in political ties, those who have fashioned a cross and forged the nails of salvation. We celebrated him, and for a brief moment there was sheer joy. Hosanna, my king and my anointed. Hosanna, my savior and my God. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Christ's Entry Into Jerusalem - Jean-Hippolyte Flandrin "Who is he?" Sara cried as she followed her father through the crowd. Since she was barely seven years old, her father held tightly to her hand.  Her older brother Caleb had moved ahead.  Her question went unanswered. "Is this to do with Passover?" she asked, confused by the apparent celebration. She felt her responsibilities were back home, with her mother.  The festival was near.  There would be many pilgrims coming to the city and flocking to the temple. She knew all the stories about her people being led out of Egypt.  She knew about the manna, the quail, the bitter water, and the golden calf.  Her mother would recite, from memory, words she had heard read from the scrolls.  She knew the blood of a lamb was important for the festival at hand, so was the wooden frame around their door.  Her father slowed.  The crowd ahead was shouting, chanting words about kings and the anointed....