I woke up too late to go for a run on the beach (my first since the car wreck) and decided that a 20 minute walk would do me some good.  As I keep telling my roommate Paula (from Finland), “Baby steps.”

17 minutes into my walk, as I am nearing my own house, my rambling thoughts and prayers return to a request that God would change something I don’t like about myself.

“No.”  His simple answer.

“What?  Why?”

“You don’t get to be perfect.”

The words settled quickly in my soul with a sense of peace I like to call relief.