Abba Father;
In my dreams I walk,
On two healthy legs,
Two healthy feet,
And sometimes I run,
Or sail the ocean free,
Traveling on toward the Son.

Those dreams so real,
That when I wake,
I expect to walk,
I am ready to dance,
Until that moment,
I realize I have no chance.

And I come running here,
To our Cottage-by-the-Sea,
This place in my heart,
Where we come to meet,
Designed for my limits,
Our heart retreat.

Though sometimes I stay,
Totally in the real,
Pretend doesn’t change,
What is still is,
But like my dreams,
I need here, this.

A place to retreat,
Talk about the difficult,
The good and ugly,
Surrender in prayer,
Break down my pride,
Give myself to Your care.

What life denys me,
Here You’ve prepared,
A seamless safe place,
That helps fill me up,
When the world,
Drains my cup.

I’m not crazy,
I know this isn’t real,
Not real brick and stone,
But in my heart,
Our Cottage-by-the-Sea,
Has its part.
So let the storms roll,

Let the waves crash,
The seagulls call,
The ocean give back,
All it ever stole,
Our Cottage-by-the-Sea,
Has its role.

Let’s take up a bundle,
From the Hidden Room,
And thrash it out,
Set things right,
Guide my prayers,
Reveal Your Light.

Ride out the storm,
Admit my sins,
Face my fears,
Forgive again, again.
Refine my heart
You must win.
d.f.a.v. 7/7/15.
—Donna