Sometimes, I still feel so small,

Looking up at distant height;

Sometimes, forward’s just a crawl,

When soul desires freedom’s flight.

But just as trees need lifetime’s span,

So my progress time requires;

Just as pine from seed began,

So my heart grows what’s desired.

Lord, remind your daughter small

That You delight in stages earned;

Walking comes when first I’ve crawled,

And flying after running’s turn.