Scarlet Robe Creations

“You know I’m broken,” she says.   He nods, understanding her need to continue her story without interruption.   “I’ve never been loved.   Not a real love.   I’ve been used.   People have said they loved me, but they always wanted something in return.   That’s the way it is with love… right?   It’s never free.”   “You think there’s a monetary price?” He asks.   She pauses for a moment, but responds before he can fill the void. “No not monetary.   Sometimes I wish that’s all that was involved, money.   Sometimes the price is pain, emotional, physical.   Sometimes there is humiliation.   I’ve been stripped, I bear my soul… and then I’m tossed out like the trash.”   “That isn’t love.”   “They call it love.”   “Just saying,” he adds.   “My mother called it love.”   “But do you think it was love?” He asks.   “I wanted her to love me.   She told me once she considered abortion.   I feel so...

“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” Matthew 20:16    Jealousy, we have walked in the way of holiness our entire lives and our reward is the same as he who sought You in his final hours. Jealousy, we have fought the battle and crawled along the difficult road, while they slandered, celebrated, drank fine wine and lusted. Jealousy, we have accepted You before our peers, stood by Your word in print and heart, yet they share equally the reward of Your kingdom. The last shall be first. Am I a worker on a street corner, hired at first sunrise, or am I he who stood waiting for a job in the hot day's sun. Help me to not see Your kingdom as I would wish it to be, where only those I understand as righteous stand before Your throne. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

I was traveling a road some of my associates had warned me about.  But I had business to attend and felt the risk was not too great.  They told me the road was filled with thieves, that vagabonds ambushed the unwary travelers daily, especially those who traveled alone.  I did not consider myself careless as I set out over the rocky roads toward Jericho. They approached me from behind, three of them, muscular and unruly.  The hungry and destitute of the land.  Some commit crimes to survive, others because of their hatred for fellow men.  I offered the little gold I had, a handful of coins with Caesar's image.  They struck me anyway, wanting my money, the cloth I wore and my blood.  When they left me by the roadside I thought death was near.  I faded into a world of darkness.  I asked God to be compassionate toward me, to keep the animals from gnawing on my bones.  Through a mouth tasting my own blood I prayed for deliverance. I h...