Scarlet Robe Creations

The N ativity of Christ - Francesco Francia Come all, willing to travel, willing to step out from your comfort. Come, and walk beside those who will find, those who will stand at a cave's opening, and know a woman has given birth. Come shepherds, in from the fields, carrying your sheep on you shoulders. Come, following the guidance of an angel, the one who sang of glory, and spoke of peace to all. Come wise men, from eastern lands, bringing gifts for a king. Come, following a light in the dark sky, a star beckoning seekers, and announcing royal birth. Come all, those who have waited, and those who've just realized. Come, the child is sent for you, for all those who wish to step from darkness, and into the light of His love. copyright 2025 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author https://www.goodreads.com

They had been sitting in the fields for most of the night.  Their sheep were gathered into the sheepfold, protected from harm.  Isaac sat at the gate watching the stars overhead.  He understood little about the movement of heavenly bodies.  He knew only that in darkness the moon rose, and day was blessed by the light of the sun.  Still, he noted the twinkling of lights, and the recent arrival of a brighter light, he'd only recently begun to see. "Day dreamin', Isaac?" Caleb asked.  He was older than Isaac, both in age, and in years as a shepherd.  The life Isaac had found himself in had gripped Caleb by fate.  His father, and his father's father had performed the same task. "Just watchin' the sky," Isaac responded. "Star gazin'.  That's what it's called." Not insulted in anyway by Caleb's harsh reply, Isaac said, "Do you ever take note of the changes in the heavens.  When it is warm there are certain lights in the sky. ...

Adoration of the Christ Child - Gerard Honthorst A promised beacon willing to guide me home. Flesh coming into the world to absorb every stain of my sin.   The Word of the Father spoken through the sonnets of prophets. Songs of Kings and angels weaving the fabric of a covenant.   Come into our world, for we are no longer shepherds. We are bound to luxury and not the land. We do not see the signs of Your time.   Come as a child, when our hearts are coldest. My soul longs and my heart aches. Come as my savior pour out upon me Your cleansing blood. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

"It's beautiful," the young woman with curly brown said, walking a complete circle around the rustic creation. The old man, a carpenter by trade, wearing denim overalls that had seen paints of various colors, looked at the product of wood and nails.  He chewed on a bit of tobacco while resting his thick hands on his workbench. "It's a feeding trough," he responded. "Nothing special about a feeding trough." "Don't you see?  The wood is perfect." "That's the wood your father wanted me to use.  Said he got those pieces of timber from some old barn next town over.  Some of the boards were beyond use, rotted.  Did what I could." "It's perfect," she exclaimed a second time. "For feeding animals, yes.  There is no beauty in rough lumber that will do nothing more than hold feed for sheep and donkeys." The young woman walked over to the trough and placed her hand on the wood.  It was rough, just as the car...