The God of my childhood dealt impartial justice
from a glorious throne in the heavenly realm,
to which, if I was good, I could aspire.
My childhood God had three parts;
the Father who was both Creator and Judge,
yet cared, paternally for every hair upon my head;
His Son, who had paid for my sins by being crucified
and become an intermediary with his Father for me,
and, thirdly, the Holy Ghost, which was scary
and I didn't understand.
The God of my childhood was set apart, holy,
but the doctrine was hardly credible,
and so effectively discarded.
the frailties of basic evangelical doctrine,
without deeper understanding or analysis.
to the unrealistic fantasies of formalised faith
wrapped in liturgy and sacrament.
Yet, when personal experience forced a rethink,
I could only revert to childhood's story,
knowing no other concept of divinity.
Honesty then demanded further research
seeking truth amongst the potholes
of the broken path to divinity;
seeking something that
of that search.