Scarlet Robe Creations

   The Exhortation to the Apostles - James Tissot He says, "Who am I?" And do we respond, "You are the one I betray, The one I deny. You are the one who watches my lust for the world, gently trying to turn me back. You are the one who speaks on ancient pages I refuse to read or so much as open the book to the first page. You are the one who listens as I say, 'Tomorrow I will follow, but today my time is filled'." You are the one who bore a whip and hundreds of stripes. You are the one who was crowned with a helmet of thorns. You are the one who fell beneath the weight of my sins and the transgressions of the world. You are the one who was nailed to a Roman cross and cried out a psalm, telling us one more time who you are. You are the one who was pierced and poued out mercy on the world. You are the one who rose from the tomb and offered us peace. He says, "Who am I?" You are my Lord and my God, the one who stretched out his arms for me. You are the...

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...

Happy are those whose sins are forgiven,      whose wrongs are pardoned. Psalm 32:1    Happiness, for sins forgiven, a pardon from my Lord. I shout with praise. He does not accuse me of that which I have confessed. When I lived in my shame I was separate from my soul. Drained of my tears and strength my joy was nothing more than embers fading in the shadows. Then I knelt before God. I confessed the darkness He refused to see. For it is my soul laboring in sin not the sight of the Lord. Happiness, for my sins are forgiven. I will follow Him where paths are straight, fields are plowed and the harvest is rich. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author