Scarlet Robe Creations

Even now, with all your turning away, with your denials and betrayals. Even now, with the hatred we immerse ourselves in, with the scars we inflict on each other. Even now, with wars fought and villages plundered, with children murdered and our streets flowing with blood. Even now, He looks down upon the chaos of our lives, and says, "Return to me". Fast, weep and mourn, tear your garments if you need a sign, but know that you can return, even now. copyright 2024 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

“Did you see that dude down the street, shouting about the end?” It was a question asked by one of my classmates as we met in front of the movie theater.   I had come from a different direction, so I hadn’t seen or heard. “Must think he’s a prophet or somethin’,” another in our group added. “Did you see him, Jacob?” A third in our group asked me directly. “I didn’t come from Main,” I answered. “Oh, then you missed it.   The guy’s a real loon.   He’s got a long beard and unruly hair,” the first speaker said.   His name was Nathan.   Much in life was a joke to Him. “And his clothing is like some sort of burlap sack,” one of the others said. Nathan would speak, and the others would chime in.   I usually remained silent, which wasn’t much of a virtue on my part.   Normally, I find, silence translates to agreement. “You think at least he’d be askin’ for money,” Nathan continued. “Makes the whole effort of standin’ out there in the sun, looki...

Arms wide open, a face welcoming a child. The wanderer who returns from the briar patch, wounded but healed, by the embrace of the waiting arms. Arms wide open, a love without condition. The journey home is nearly complete. Filth is cleansed from soul and flesh by the embrace of the waiting arms. Arms wide open, a white robe of forgiveness. The scarlet blood of iniquities is washed away. The sinner is welcomed into the embrace of the waiting arms. Arms wide open, despite pride and venomous tongues. The sheep cornered by shadows of life, clinging to the last ember of hope, crawling from the depths into the embrace of waiting arms. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author