Scarlet Robe Creations

How eager are they, gathered in fields yearning to hear His voice, soothing to their strife, peaceful in their hectic days. How blessed are they in the courtyard, standing in the crowd, engrossed in words made flesh with a heart that bleeds. How sacred are those, speaking sonnets of love on bended knees, walking roads glorified by grace, seeking mercy for others. How eager are they, planted in good soil, who first repeated His words to the peoples of covenant, those who never knew they were loved. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Ordaining of the Twelve Apostles - James Tissot That they might stand beside Him, dusty sandals and ragged clothes, coming to village and town, not as royalty, but as paupers. That they might walk the same road, when the day bakes the flesh the night chills, and when all is done, rest their weary bodies on stone. That they might sit at table breaking bread, in the company of each other, or gather in fields with thousands of His Father's children, sharing loaves and fish. That they might share what they've learned, wherever led, whether persecuted or embraced, among those who don't know. That they might heal broken spirits and bodies, what man cannot even touch with his eyes, his hands, or his heart. That they might be stronger than demons and not be corrupted by deceit, not led to acts of betrayal, or denial, not tempted by the sin of power, or the iniquity of pride. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.good...

Just a parable of sorts... "Where are we going?" the boy asked. His question was directed to the young man, walking a stride ahead of him, who led the way along the winding path. The meandering trail wound through green meadows, full of wildflowers of various colors.  The floral ornamentation decorated both sides of the divide.  There was no other details, no scars of mankind. "This way," the young man replied, pointing in the direction they were heading, toward the horizon. "Where did we come from?" It was a question the boy had been pondering.  Just another question, but this one was formed by his mouth and spoken out loud.  Perhaps asking a question about the clover or the buttercups might have been suitable.  But some questions just need to be spilt out. The young man stopped, patiently contemplating the words uttered by the boy.  The young man was thin, not very muscular.  To the boy he appeared to be a gymnast, or  perhaps a marionette, all ...

Condemnation, the verdict of a judge with authority, acknowledged only upon the soil of this earth, not in the promised kingdom. A judgement cast on He who judges eternity. Pawn of this world, the power of political favor rests in your words. You are propped up by the strength of tainted ideals, unaware of the wounds on your soul. Before you is the one. Even the pompous Pharisees know this truth. They ignore what you've never known. They take advantage of your ignorance, to lay blame on you and your kind at their day of judgement. Condemnation, His day will offer mercy. He will forgive the most wretched, embrace the most vile. If only they leave the pride of today behind and seek the meekness of eternity. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Come to the table, you whose hands are stained by sin, you whose heart is hardened by failure, you whose spirit is empty and void. Come, He beckons you to sit. Come to the table, you who are paupers you who have no pillow to rest their heads, you who have sold the flesh of your temple. Come, He beckons you to dine. Come to the table, all who label doubt their faith, all who are torn by denomination, all who would never ask for a morsel. Come, the table is set for you. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

My heart longs to walk in a field among the glories of the eternal. I wish to hear the words spoken that I've read and heard before. The words absorbed by the poor in spirit. The words embraced by the merciful. My soul longs to sit in the company of those invited to a feast of bread and fish. A sign for those who seek miracles. A stirring of the heart for those who ache for God. A joyful dance for those who have been promised life. My heart longs for He who is mercy to extend His holy hand that I might take what is offered, deserving nothing of my own accord, given salvation only by His will. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Father, I speak humbly. I speak without the colors of pride. I push aside all that leads to sin, and for moment, while the world is held at bay, I endeavor to hear you. Father, I am weak. I speak from my knees with a seeker's heart. I struggle to focus when my soul is troubled and my thoughts become jumbled amid my distress. Father, my words are few, somedays. I know not what I am to offer. I have nothing worthy of a temple's flame nor do I have purity of heart and mind. Father, today my knees ache and my mind is weary. My petitions are rarely changed. I cherish the gifts you have bestowed on me and ponder the days to come. Father, have mercy on my floundering soul. I am a wretched vagabond an exile of your creation. Look on me with kindness when like the prodigal son I return. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Jan Brueghel de Oude and Peter Paul Rubens - The Garden of Eden and the Fall of Man You will be like God, an equal in understanding. The fruit is good, pleasing in color and texture. You will be like God, knowing all that is, knowing all that will be. Why do you think you were made to be less. You will be like God, no more than a bite, and all the creatures will treat you as they do their creator. You will be like God, overflowing with pride, for you have done the forbidden, tasted it's pleasure and cast yourself from the garden. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Woman of sorrows, mother of purity, who has seen nails and wood meant to tear down life, attempt to crush God's covenant, an unknowing folly, the murder of her son.  Sorrowful woman, standing in tearful witness to the scars inflicted by the pompous serpents of this world, upon the one she bore in her womb, the child awaited, and nurtured in infancy. Mother Mary, a sacred heart broken. In fulfilment of prophecies, you are His mother, and He who dies for the world's sin on a Roman cross, is your son. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Do not walk alone, along the road, the road of heaviness, the road that drags you down, leaving deep scars. Do not walk alone, down crumbled byways where the sun bakes flesh, pieces of granite lie underfoot, and your cross cuts into your shoulder. Do not walk alone, a lost sheep afraid of wolves, the blemishes on your soul. Hear the call of mercy and follow the voice. Do not walk alone despite having strayed. There is a shepherd, one divine shepherd, who guides the way with His mercy. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Unforgiving Servant - Domenico Fetti A wicked servant, coming before the Lord on his knees, begging for a debt he can never pay to be wiped clean. A trespass the dearly beloved son has paid in full. A wicked servant, much like many of us, pleading for mercy from a wrath we deserve, fearing the justice of a penance we can never pay. A wicked servant, demanding the iniquity of his debtor be paid to the last ounce, when forgiveness has been bestowed upon him. The wickedness of mankind, even when his creator has been merciful. Forgive us, Lord, our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Come to me, His voice is but a whisper softly, mingling with the noise of life. Come to me, a spoken promise to heal the wounds inflicted on each soul by this life. Come to me, step from darkness to light, toward He who illuminates the way  with love. Jesus Walking on Water - James Tissot Come to me, Lord of my salvation, help me pick up my cross and not reject it. Help me to carry my iniquity into the river of purification. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

The Lord's Prayer - James Tissot Our Father… Speak to Him with intimacy. Speak to Him prayerfully, just as Jesus instructed his disciples. Our Father… Words that draw the soul toward its home, and the sinner to forgiveness. Our Father… An offering to make holy everything that is of Him, who our souls seek. Our Father, Our loving Father… …pray these words, and know you have been in communion with He who created you. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Christ Carrying the Cross - El Greco Is your cross heavy, does it strain your muscles to their limit? Does your cross come with a cane, or a chair with wheels? Is your cross an ailment of the body, or a crisis of the soul? Is your cross big, or are there many little ones? Is your cross an addiction, one which must be battled daily? Is your cross sadness or loss, or maybe depression? Is your cross an emptiness, a hollow void, seeking to be filled? Good shepherd, you have beckoned us to come to you, to step out of the shadows of life. Help us to carry the slivers of our struggles, knowing you are beside us always, carrying the world's salvation. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

James Tissot - The Caravan of Abraham A nomadic people,  wandering desert and plain, forbidden from the garden. The descendants of one man, kin of one who submitted and ate the fruit of knowledge. A nomadic people, knowing good from evil and pleasure from sadness. One man given a promise that the stars will be his, when generations have grown weary. A nomadic people, fathers of those to come, those who will wander as they do. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Right with God, are we, when it matters most? The penitent thief asked for mercy in his final hour, humbly without pride. Will the opportunity be offered to us? Right with God. We know when we're not. We know when we've turned away, choosing to hear the world's obtrusive noise. Let Jesus in, past all the barriers not wearing his name. Let His light shine through, prejudices of more than race, with His mercy, unfathomable. Right with God, in His merciful gaze, dancing like children, forgiven. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

What is there about his words? Is it simply the phrases spoken, or is it perhaps, the voice as well. He speaks as if these words are his, as if he is the one who wrote them on the scroll.                       ~ Do demons recognize holy words, when spoken by a sacred voice? The authority of the eternal one is present. Listen and you will hear. In his speaking everything has been fulfilled. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

She watched the snow coming down from the window before her.   The blanket over her lap kept her legs warm.   With both hands she gripped the wheels of her chair and spun away from the wintery scene on the lawn. With a skill gained in the past two years she quickly rolled across the room and into the hall.   She heard her mother’s voice in the dining room, talking with the new pastor at her church.   She listened, confined to her chair, for her mother to indulge the reverend with her daughter’s pitiful plight. She lifted the blanket and looked at her lap.   Her legs had lost much of their muscle tone.   Even through the heavy fabric of her jeans it was noticeable. “My daughter, Karen, skied competitively in college.” She heard her mother say.   Always centered on the glory years.   Now, two years later, she was a paraplegic. “She was amazing on the slopes.” Her mother continued bragging in the dining room. “Her coaches said she should cons...

Silent years, from Malachi's final word to Matthew's first. Centuries of voiceless prophets, abandoned by covenants. Silent years with God's breath barely moving leaves. Alone with shadows, untouched by light. Silent years, has the word of flesh lost its meaning? Has the promise in the garden been forsaked? Silent years, disbelief takes root, the righteous condemn. Have these years really been silent, or have we stopped listening? copyright 2025 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

Your dwelling place, where the soul yearns to be, where the soul longs to find its home. Your place of refuge, where silence embraces my prayer, where my praise is never put to rest. Your place of comfort, where the sparrow finds her home and the swallow makes her nest. Your dwelling place, the abode your children seek, the kingdom promised by your son. copyright 2026 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com