Worldwide Oil Companies
If you wonder who controls the price of a barrel of oil, of a gallon of gasoline, take a look at the chart here.
May 24, 2008
May 23, 2008
The Way to Heaven
“Where shall my wondering soul begin?
How shall I all to heaven aspire?
A slave redeem’d from death and sin,
A brand pluck’d from eternal fire,
How shall I equal triumphs raise,
And sing my great Deliverer’s praise?
O, how shall I the goodness tell,
Father, which Thou to me hast show’d
That I, a child of wrath and hell,
I should be call’d a child of God!
Should know, should feel my sins forgiven,
Blest with this antepast of heaven!
And shall I slight my Father’s love,
Or basely fear His gifts to own?
Unmindful of His favours prove?
Shall I, the hallow’d cross to shun,
Refuse His righteousness t’ impart,
By hiding it within my heart?
No–though the ancient dragon rage,
And call forth all his hosts to war;
Though earth’s self-righteous sons engage;
Them, and their god, alike I dare:
Jesus, the sinner’s Friend, proclaim;
Jesus, to sinners still the same.
Outcasts of men, to you I call,
Harlots, and publicans, and thieves!
He spreads His arms t’ embrace you all;
Sinners alone His grace receives;
No need of Him the righteous have,
He came the lost to seek and save.
Come, all ye Magdalens in lust,
Ye ruffians fell in murders old;
Repent, and live: despair and trust!
Jesus for you to death was sold;
Though hell protest, and earth repine,
He died for crimes like yours–and mine.
Come, O my guilty brethren, come,
Groaning beneath your load of sin!
His bleeding heart shall make you room,
His open side shall take you in.
He calls you now, invites you home:
Come, O my guilty brethren, come!
For you the purple current flow’d
In pardons from His wounded side:
Languish’d for you th’ eternal God,
For you the Prince of Glory died.
Believe, and all your guilt’s forgiven;
Only believe–and yours is heaven.”
Charles Wesley
May 22, 2008
If you’ve not yet been touched by the earthquake in China
This headline from “The Globe and Mail”, Canada’s National Newspaper on Wednesday, May 14.
“Tenderly, one mother eased a jacket over her little boy’s hand and up around his shoulder. He didn’t look alarmed or frightened but dirt and blood were caked on his forehead. She touched his hair and then they pulled up the zipper on the body bag and carried him away. She had seen her son, at least; most of the children still lay in the rubble of the Xinjian elementary school.”