For a friend of was afraid of becoming close to God because she felt sure that she would eventually disappoint both him and herself.

 Wanting, yet would I refrain

 from reaching that I might obtain

 a higher life, above the rain:

 the fear that I will fall again.

 I long to wish to want for me

 the passion I in others see,

 the love I know that sets them free,

 but some dark ghost is haunting me:

 "come quiet now, come sit with us;

 don't think it wise to make a fuss

 about the things of Christ and thus.

 No, stay with us and lie here, plus:

 you'll never make it if you try

 to rise and live above the sky

 you'll soon return and with us die.

 No, nothing comes of dreams to fly."

 Ah! Sinner, let me help you see

 that failing is the way to be,

 for trusting is what sets you free

 but trying makes a Pharisee.

 The path behind our saviour's feet

 is neither tidy, nice, nor neat,

 but bloody was the mercy seat

 and failure is the place we meet.

 See, only wings that aren't your own

 can lift you to the highest throne.

 The arms of Christ and his alone

 (but only when you are his own)

 were spread out wide and pierc-ed through

 that failures such as me and you

 need not to fear that what we do

 might cleave us from the love that's true.

 So fail and fail and fail again

 and fail some more and fail but then

 don't think that failures (one or ten)

 are that which makes us mice or men.

 No, honesty before the Lord

 's the song of angels and their chord,

 the place where secret wings are stored

 to fly again where once you soared.

 And wondrous things God gives to we

 who come to him transparently,

 though trembling yet determinedly,

 to give our secrets all to He.

 And now I give my guarantee:

 he will not fail like you and me.

 If Jesus yoke is over thee

 your failures are his victory!

 And if God’s all for honesty,

 then this I say (don't you agree?):

 that since he gives you all you need,

 he does not need a 'devotee',

 but someone who will simply say

 "I want to want you more today,

 though more than this I cannot say”

 And that you will, I hope and pray.

 I hope that in these words that rhyme

 you'll feel from God a touch, a sign;

 for he who said, "I am the vine"

 is speaking to you now, this time

 and tells you, "Cut the safety line

 that keeps you bound, enslaved." In time

 I hope you'll say, "The Lord is mine.

 From fear of flying I resign."