Jesus lives in my tree house

There's a tree house in my back garden
and Jesus lives there,
I leave him milk and cookies every night
on a picnic blanket;
but I wish he would come down
and give me some guidance,
because there's somewhere I've got to be
but I am clueless,
my mind is mixed up
and I don't know which voice to follow,
I just don't seem to be able to get to my destination,
I need the man in the tree house;
for direction,
so that I will know which road to follow,
which way is home,
Jesus lives in my tree house, 
he just never comes down.