Emphasis Preaching Journal

When I was a child, it seemed to me as if my mother could fix anything. It didn't seem to matter what was broken -- a toaster, the washing machine, my brother's toy car, a plate, a window -- it was no problem for my mom.
My mom could find anything too. She always seemed to have this uncanny knack for knowing just where we'd left the scissors, or my father's hammer. She could even find a lost ring in a stone driveway.
In today's vocabulary, her abilities were awesome and awe-
inspiring. All we had to do was ask. We left the rest in her hands.