RUSTIC COTTAGE.

I had a rustic cottage dream,
It looked old and forlorn,
Over a hundred years of age,
Built before I was born.

As I walked up to it,
I treaded with great care,
I knew that it was special,
So went there with a prayer.

" Lord, why me, why now?"
"This building is unique,
It has so many answers,
That many people seek."

Outside lay an earthen pot,
That housed an ailing bush,
Dead leaves fall out everywhere,
As I gave it a little push.

Then I found a tiny shoot,
That showed some signs of life,
It just needed watering,
And pruning with a knife.

As I went inside the house,
I gazed on it with awe,
It had been carefully crafted,
Amazed at what I saw!

Everything was hand made,
Each item built with care,
The pieces fitted together,
Though a little worse for wear.

Someone loved this building,
Which now was quite run down,
Yet it had stood the test of time,
And still was very sound.

The house looked quite old fashioned,
Yet still was very sound,
A treasure to be cherished,
Built on solid ground.

This is like the church of God,
It needs to be restored,
It's waiting for some craftsmen,
Chosen by the Lord.

Each one with their calling,
To fit each piece in place,
To hammer, paint and polish,
With God's amazing grace.