Of Gods and Fathers

Of Gods and Fathers

I’ve heard folks say
their God is a mighty force, prepared
to punish His sinful children
with quakes and floods,
a God who forces devotion
through fear of hell
or the coldness of separation.

I often wondered
what these folks thought
of their own fathers.
Was "I love you" a foreign language?
Was the ruler used to punish, not to teach?
When they were hurt,
did they run to their fathers
or away from them?
Did they have one at all?

I always thought of my God
as a quiet presence, waiting patiently
until I called out His name. 
And when I did, He would be there
like the distance between us
instantly vanished.

We would share our observations
of how Project Earth was faring.
We would point to constellations in the sky
and he would tell me stories about their namesakes.
He would eagerly show me His newest invention,
and I would savor every second He spent with me.

When it was time to part, we would hug each other. 
He would say “I love you, Punkin." I would kiss his cheek.
Then he would be gone until the next time I called Him. 
When I did, I knew He would be there. 
Not a bad track record for a God,
although I once thought of my own father
as uninvolved and absent in my life.

Thinking of God this way makes me realize
how fortunate it was to have a father
who wasn’t afraid of the words, “I love you”, 
who was eager to share His love of the Earth and stars,
a father who would stand beside me
if only I’d remember to call out his name.




SWPoet




We can't choose our fathers but we can choose how our children view theirs, their God, their father,
and we can choose who we allow into their lives. May it be love we preach, and may we stay close
so we can hear the call of a child.  Perhaps then, we can present to them the ultimate gift, a God of love.







Older version:

Fathers

It has been said that one views God
as they view their own father. 
Are they harsh or loving,
vengeful or patient?
I wonder if this could be true.

If it is, my God would remain silent,
waiting patiently until I called out His name. 
And when I did, we would pick up where we left off
on our last conversation, as if
the distance between us instantly vanished.

We would share our observations
of how Project Earth was faring.
He would eagerly show me His
newest invention, and I would savor
the time He spent with me.

We would hug each other.  He would say
“I love you”, and I would say the same. 
Then we would part until the
next time I called Him. 
And again, He would be there.

Now that I think about it, a God like this
wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
And when I put it that way,
maybe our views of God
influence how we see our fathers. 

I once thought my father was a little distant
and uninvolved in my life. I wanted
a father who would be there
all the time, not just when I called. 
I yearned for him to just know when I needed him.

Thinking of God this way makes me realize
I was pretty lucky to have a father who wasn’t afraid
to say “I love you”, was eager to take the time to share
what he loved most with me, and who would be by my side
if only I’d remember to call out his name.

SWPoet