What an interesting family I have.

Last night I posted something about perfectionism and how I'm still a slave to it--a slave to the love of man. I wrote about how I feel like messing up is going to cost me the love of somebody. The way I worded it was, "I feel like if I mess up just once or do something wrong, somebody somewhere will withdraw their love from me once and for all."

I'm not sure who that somebody is, though. I've entertained two possibilities--Mom, and Grandpa. But I don't think it's actually either of them. I'm not even sure it's a specific person. It may be God Himself.

But why would that translate into slaving over the love of man?

...I was going to finish this, but I'm way too tired. Didn't get much sleep last night. Couldn't sleep for the life of me.

-Stephanie

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