Scarlet Robe Creations

What do you stand by? Do you stand by a feeling, one that fills you with elation and self worth? Do you stand by the sermon of a priest or minister, who preaches the words you desire to hear? Do you stand by government, paying homage to the power it has given itself? Do you stand by the news anchor  who supports the view of your political idols? Do you stand by the words of entertainers, who insist that your values be like theirs? Or, is it possible that you stand by a statement given over two thousand years ago? A statement spoken on a dark night, one man to another, a Pharisee and a teacher. A statement spoken by creator to created and written on parchment by the hand of the disciple He loved. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

View from Mount Eisenhower. The effort. The climb. The moment of wondering if. Knees are sore. Feet are tired of cresting rock. The trail is wet. A portion becomes a waterfall, here now, but gone when the rains cease. I follow a pace set by a six year old. He scrambles over each boulder with an ease I once knew. It is his first. He is filled with excitement. There are forty-seven more in New Hampshire that he plans to conquer. We reach the top, forty-seven hundred and sixty feet, as clouds open our view, creation is revealed. and Heaven seems almost reachable. Exhaustion has been overcome. He places a rock on the cairn. We take in the glorious view from the top, my daughter, my grandson and gramps. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

Now the earth was formless and empty,  darkness was over the surface of the deep,  and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.   Genesis 1:2 Spirit over the waters, without shape or form. The created yet to be made. Love, yet to be poured out.   Spirit over the waters, a breath of life, a touch of love and all emptiness is transformed to beauty.   Spirit over the water, deeper than any thought of my own, for You are my God and I am Your created.   Spirit over the waters, the hovering mist of morning cannot define divinity or the absolute beauty of Your face. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

Cover of the Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning “Maybe you should listen.   I believe God is calling you.” Father William said. “He has been for quite a while.” A priest, a friend, they sat on a wall outside the campus library, one a student with a copy of the ‘Ragamuffin Gospel’ written by Brennan Manning in hand, the other working campus ministry.   The season of spring was encroaching in the Northeast and the April afternoon was warmer than usual.   The sun reached out from the cloudless sky like gentle fingers wanting to caress. “I’ve questioned a lot in the last few years.” “But never your faith,” the priest added. “No I’ve never doubted why Jesus died.   I’ve never doubted who He was… or is.   It’s the law that makes us stumble… makes me stumble.   And some of those laws… I can’t find any basis for them.” “You see them as manmade.” “I see us as modern day Pharisees, honoring laws and dogmas more than we honor the word of God.   Someti...

In that time alone when my heart wishes for another voice, when I seek the desolate country-side, looking for my shepherd, will I be close,  or far. Sometimes I feel the touch, but I long for the embrace. Is it I who refuse to wrap my arms around my heart's deepest desire? In that time alone when my heart wishes to be carried, when I seek sand and find only stone, my struggling faith designing my house, to crumble. You are with me, rod and staff, even when I cling to the world. You are with me, leading to green pastures, when I have cast my soul upon the pavement. copyright 2023 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author

There is a trail. It's leads me where I long to travel. Somewhere beyond today and into tomorrow. I've walked this same trail thousands of times. I have stepped over boulders and trunks of trees fallen. I have heard the song of a bird, familiar and yet strange. I have watched the flight of wings as the song took to the sky. I have found a rock along that trail, one where I can rest, one where I can think of the places I have been, one where I can consider the places I will go. copyright 2023 - 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...

  Nicolas Poussin - Christ et la femme adultère I raise my fist into the air, grasping a chunk of stone tightly within my grip. Adulteress, this woman has been caught in the very act, with a man not her husband.   The teacher looks at her as she cowers helplessly at the wall. The law states that a woman such as this should be put to death. You do not place yourself above Moses.   He tells us that if we are without sin, we may cast a stone. I consider releasing the rock. I wave it above my head. My small sins do not compare to hers.   To my left a stone falls to the ground. Another of my companions gives up the trap. The teacher has called our bluff and one by one we leave to go about our piously sinful lives. copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author From the collection;  Pictures of the Messiah

The pavement glistens, from a torrent awaited. We run back into buildings that shelter and continue our day a little less dry. When it pours, do you consider the Arc, or is that just a fairy tale in your heart. It is easier to listen if we think the words are for children. We can even smile when a child asks where are the unicorns. Do you close your eyes, if someone says, "This is God's warning to the people of that day." If so, how will He warn us today, with a virus that causes leaders to panic, with dark skies and horrible storms, with wars which will have no victor. If so, how will He warn us today, with churches that pay homage to self and not others, denominations which support the rule of their laws and not His, leaders who say holiness is the work of evil and we should openly accept sin. It rains today, but He promised to never wipe us clean with torrents of water. This time He has wiped us clean with blood and still, we do not heed the warning. copyright 2023 - D...

Charles T, as everyone at the shelter called him, sat on the small patch of grass across the street from the First Congregational church.  Behind him loomed an attorney’s office, closed as it was on every Sunday.  From his pocket he removed a tiny book, a small green covered Gideons Bible containing the New Testament, Psalms and Proverbs.  The handout had been given by a local church at a soup kitchen where he spent the previous Easter.   A bell in the church tower rang out, telling the world that prayer was to begin.   Ten o’clock, Charles T thumbed through his favored possession and stopped at John’s gospel, chapter 1, verse 35.   Inside the church the congregation would be singing.   He wondered which hymn they would start with this morning.   He thought it interesting how different denominations might sing the same songs with slightly different lyrics.   He hummed ‘Amazing Grace’ to himself, since it was his favorite.   “...