Heidi G karlsson

It's the funniest feeling. I'm here in Ottawa, trying to be at "THE CRY," but instead I'm at the public library writing. Speaking of public library, there was a line up of like 30 people when I got here this morning. I thought, "man, I'm going to be waiting FOREVER for the internet." but no. They all rushed upstairs. What's up there? I don't care. I got internet. Anyway. So I went to the Hill. No one is there. Of course there are tourists and hot dog vendors, security, the guards as in "the changing of the guard." But no music. No people praying. Weird. That's why I'm here. To check where it is that I'm supposed to be. THe great thing about this city is it is set up for visitors. I've already been given two maps. Very helpful. Lots of info centres around. Anyway, the Cry is apparently at two places and I'm not sure how that works or where that other place is that isn't on the hill where I think everyone else ...

Little white clouds dotted the sky. We walked. The sun was already set, but the light had yet to fade. I talked. I listened. Up the hill and back. What is it about us that it means so much to have another one of us look at us, nod, listen to us, then share them with us. Why when my dreams scare me do I want to tell somebody, when Sparrow says something funny do I have to tell somebody . . . and all I need is for something in their face to communicate that what I said meant something, made sense somehow, or was valuable to them. Sometimes I wish I could truly look into God's face and see how He responds to me. My prayers. My thoughts. My attempts to impress Him. My attempts to run from Him. The times I run to Him. I'd like to see Him nod. Smile. Wink. Oh man I'd love to see Him wink at me. I'd smile for a whole week straight. I wouldn't be able to stop. Winks make my heart flip. Unless the winker is scary... but let's say it's all good. No slime. I hope He w...

Are you allowed to post other people's articles on your own blog? Well... these are not my thoughts but I am thinking about them. What Pleases God By Andrew Wommack During a Sunday morning service in St. Joseph, Missouri, a few years back, I asked the congregation how many of them really want to please God more than anything else. Every hand went up. Then I asked them, "How many of you think God is really pleased with you?" Out of at least 400 people, one 11-year-old boy and one 10-year-old girl raised their hands. That was all. Very few believers actually believe that they are pleasing to God. Most feel some degree of forgiveness and maybe acceptance, but to think that the Lord is actually pleased with us is another matter. A person can choose to love you because of his or her own goodness, but to be pleased with you, they actually have to like your performance. Right? With God, no one could ever be pleasing to Him based on performance. His standard is perfection, and no...

If I could write whatever I wanted to write, completely uninhibited, what would I write? What words would I use? I think I'd be a rabid (not rapid.. i meant rabid) fire-hose of simultaneous happy and sad. I wonder if I'd be surprised by what came out. I wonder if you would be surprised. I wonder what things I'd really mean, and what thoughts I think I think but I'm really just playing around.. or my brain is playing with me and I haven't stopped to notice it yet. It's amazing how much weight some things carry and they're not even true and I don't even mean them. I just feel them. They SEEM legitimate, but are as troublesome and non-existent as.. as.. the magic hot air balloon in my backyard. Sometimes I wonder at Paul when he said he didn't even judge his own heart because guiltiness or guiltlessness is not an accurate indication of guilt. I hear people talk about consciences, and I agree. Sort of. But I also don't. Paul didn't depend on his...