The God Who Smiled
He startled me at first, like when a baby's
Startled when she first hears Poppa laugh.
That sound was much too big, and I too small;
I wasn't sure I liked it more than half;
To start with, it just wasn't what I knew,
Or thought I knew about Him. It was strange
To see my stern-faced Jesus as He flew
Right out the window. Heavens, had He changed?
I had been told to take Him like a draught
Of nasty-tasting syrup. "Open wide!
It's good for you, so swallow!"-- I was taught.
But somewhere, somehow, someone must have lied
Or been gravely misinformed, at least.
This Jesus laughed, He twinkled, He was cool.
He wasn't like a preacher or a priest.
He didn't tell me that I was a fool
Although I am, of course, He understood.
He didn't seem to care, though, and that fact
Stuck in my head and messed me up for good.
I think I started seeing Who I lacked.
He got under my skin. I've been beguiled,
I think forever, by the God who smiled.