Scarlet Robe Creations

  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....

"Prosperity knits a man to the world" -  C S Lewis - Screwtape Letters Wealth, success, and worldliness, even the priest on the altar blurs the reflection. It is difficult for one to slip through the needle's eye when endowed by the world's blessing. The kingdom will be full of paupers, simpletons, and rouges. For it is easier for those without to sever the ties of a world, broken, and normalizing its indulgences. Fix yourself to God's word. Hold fast to His truth when the world's ideology is flawed. Listen to those who speak from pulpits with a single agenda. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com “Paupers, simpletons and rogues” from the song “Surely God Is With Us” by Rich Mullins

Jesus Wept - James Tissot I had come to comfort the sisters.  Their brother had succumbed to a brief illness and they were very distraught.  I had not seen any of the siblings in a number of years.  We grew up together.  At one time, their brother, Lazarus, and I were good friends.  But growing up into adulthood put distance between us.  I must confess, I didn't make any effort to take the two day journey, from my home to theirs, while Lazarus was still alive.  In my guilt, I took care of pressing business and set off for Bethany after Lazarus had passed. I arrived on the morning of the fourth day and went directly to the tomb.  I was fairly certain both sisters had been there before my arrival, along with some other close family members and friends.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to face them just yet.  I knew most of those friends had probably paid a visit to Lazarus during his sickness.  I felt another wave of remorse for not having ...

Oh my people, I will open your graves Ezekiel 37:12 Restoration of a people trampled by the sword, a chosen nation, gathered by a covenant. I will bring you back for y ou are mine. Renewal of faith, bind your soul with your creator, and stand in his presence. I will  walk before you without fail. Resurrection of life, once dead bones, dried in the valley's heat, embraced by a promise. I will open your graves  and you will know me. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Mount Moriah, carrying wood and bindings, Isaac, the long awaited of Abraham, submissive to the Father, protected from the blade. Mount Moriah, Solomon picks the first stone, laid out as designed, a temple for sacrifice, the LORD's provision, a lamb without blemish. Mount Moriah, where Roman spikes impale flesh to a beam, the final lamb, the perfect son, brings the gentiles to God. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Healing the blind man - Carl Bloch There is work that must be done, now, while there is still light. Darkness will come soon. It will bear the might of an empire and wear the cloak of rejection, on those chosen to bring forth the light. He is the world's light. He will walk through the dark valley and rise on the third day. The serpent will strike His heel, His wrists, His side. But the Father's light is eternal. Rise up, those of you who shield yourselves from the gaze of hate. Salvation has come, a bright star on a hill. He calls out, forgiving sinners and promising eternity to those who simply ask. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

“Elder!” Three young men called out after dragging their small wooden craft onto the shore.  The old man, the one known to them only as elder, sat at the front of a cave.  He was feeding twigs to a small fire.  As the three men approached, he looked up and smiled. “We are friends of Lydia,” one of the three said. “She sends her greetings.” “Lydia, sweet Lydia,” the old man said with a sing-song rhythm. “She said you would give us audience.” The old man’s attention returned to the fire.  He laid a couple dried twigs over the glowing embers. “I had considered allowing the coals to cool.  But now I see that I have company.  Join me.  I have some bread.” The three men gathered around the meager smoldering pile of ash.  The elder presented a Barley loaf.  He tore chunks off it and handed a piece to each of his visitors. “We did not come to eat your food,” the man who spoke of Lydia said.  He wore a beard, and had a shawl pulle...

Hypocrites, standing in the presence of many. Praying among the crowds that they might be noticed and thought of, with esteem. Their reward is received, the envy of foolish men. Their pride blossoms. They are, as they wish, a pious example to the empty. You, who seek the new covenant, should close your door, and pray where you cannot be admired for your reverence before the Father. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

For the saying is true, 'One sows, another reaps John 4:37 Seeds planted in sporadic rows. Unevenly gathered along the soil. Does the planter whistle a tune as he throws seed into the air and prays for the harvest? Seedling to sprout, the gentle rains and the warm sun are the givers of nourishment. Life, as the creator bestows upon the earth and in the heavens, rising up in glory in answer to a psalm. Fruits of harvest, the reaper labors. He takes to the fields in the sun's warmth whistling a tune, not unlike the planter's song. An unspoken lyric giving glory to the giver of good things. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

James Tissot - He Sent Them Out Two by Two The fire crackles, a lyric of dry wood.  I pick up the fish, a remnant of the day's catch, while studying my calloused fingers.  Silas sits across from me.  His eyes reflect the flames against the dark sky.  Our acquaintanceship has been short, but we've been paired up.  One group of two, to be sent out. "Why do you think we were placed together?" I ask, licking a stray piece of white meat from my fingers. "Haven't thought about it," Silas replies. Tomorrow we will begin.  Tonight we eat.  Tomorrow we will take nothing.  We will travel hungry and thirsty.  We will eat only what is offered by those who are not wealthy.  We will lay hands on the sick, and speak to them about a kingdom that is to come, a kingdom we know little about. "We barely know each other," I decide to add. "You seek too many answers.  Why does there need to be any rhyme or reason to what the master says.  Think of w...

In the quiet, where the Lord whispers, where the words of prophets are made clear. In the quiet, when thoughts are pure when humility is encompassing, an embrace of peace. In the quiet, where we sit or kneel, where we focus on Him and forsake us. In the quiet, when the world leaves us and Jesus demands that every storm cease into silence. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

For it is not with things of this world that come and go, leaving desire for the touch of such. It is neither with gold or silver, nor jewels of a pompous king. You have not been ransomed by the wealth of worldliness, but by the blood of He who bore your sins on the wooden beam. He who stood before Pilate, and withstood judgement. He who committed no wrong. He who is righteous. He who says, "I am." copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

We had scaled to the highest point.  An outcropping looked out over a valley below and a small village. "I have lived there most of my life," my friend said, pointing a crooked finger toward the small settlement.  He had at least three decades on me.  He never shared his actual age, but his gray hair, wrinkles and wisdom gave him away. "It is where many come to raise their children.  There is little to be concerned of down there." "That's why we moved here," I replied. He took a deep breath of the mountain air and stated, "It is, however, difficult to not become complacent." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, 'complacent'.  I didn't give a response, so he continued. "The good life.  The peaceful life," he said. "It causes us to think we are on the brink of paradise.  We are not.  We are farther than most.  We bear little weight.  The scaffold on your back is but a piece of kindling.  You barely feel its burden...

Father, forgive them, they know not what they do. Hammer, spikes, a tree lifted up, a helmet of thorns piercing His flesh. Gentiles given authority by their creator. Political pawns who may one day see what they have done. Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise. A thief, one thrust upward, beside the son. A lost sheep, rescued from his wandering. A promise of eternal life, for asking. Woman behold your son.  Here is your mother. Compassion,  even in the hour. A trusted companion, a son of thunder. The one who leaned close, deeply troubled, and asked about betrayal. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Jesus quotes a psalm from of old. A song of prophecy a poem describing every wound He has chosen to bear. I thirst Mouth dried, tongue thick, He has eaten the dust of creation. Just one swallow of water, but sour wine is offered, to quench. It is finished. A ministry too short, the serpent strikes the heel. Death ends suffering for the afflicted, for the o...