Scarlet Robe Creations

  To open the door, the narrow door to His peace. I must fit the framework as if it were the mold my body was shaped in. For I’ve tried to be someone who wears a different face rather than being the person who each unique door is designed for. To open the door I must become His child. Seeing His love as the littlest ones among us see His love. I must maintain the innocence of a simple faith, an unquestionable faith, rather than trying to comprehend the mysteries of His existence that are far beyond the reaches of my understanding. To open the door I must become His soldier. A minister of His word and the truth brought before us by His word. I can’t keep the glory of His promise inside my heart, for if kept concealed, in the barren rooms of my selfishness, it will surely dwindle   and lose its spark. copyright 1996 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./a...

A tear falls from my cheek to the body, wounded, anointed in death. For the father of this man loved our sinful world so much that he sent his only child into it, as vulnerable flesh, to die. His tomb is sealed by old men struggling to leave behind rituals of their birth. Lord, help me to awaken to your kingdom, to be born again not of my mother's womb, but of your spirit. copyright 2002 - Donald P James Jr  https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

A poem dusted off from the ancient archives .   A reflective moment while driving a country road to work,  thinking of days past and days to come.   Light fog on the country fields. Gentle sunlight reaching through in a dance of glory. August morning softly filtered. If I am a child I run in the grass, damp with the morning’s dew, and paradise is mine. If I am old I stand in fields of my solitude, united with my creator, taking deep breaths, cherished. Between these two stages of life I fail at times to pause. I push past empty fields, burdening my haste. Though, if for just a moment I slow my pace, I reflect on the child past and feel a longing for the old man, waking. copyright 1997 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author