It's By God's Grace Novels & Stories

“Luck was on my side.” “There is nothing like luck. It is just our way of explaining something we think we don’t deserve. Every great thing you achieve is based on your personal hard work compiled with the help of the gods. It is not luck that gave you that greatness but the motive, zeal, and plan in you that remained restless until you fulfilled it. You are talented, and when talents meets opportunity, we confuse the result with luck, which is not true.” “You are right, grandfather. Can I stand up?” Ibekwe asked. He had endured the hardwood several minutes and never complained.

"I didn't take Gaven." "You exist," she says. "That was enough." Behind me, I can feel his presence like a wall. He is steady and patient. Waiting for the moment I need him, but he doesn’t interfere, because he knows this isn’t about him. "You were supposed to be grateful," Grace continues. "Grateful for whatever scraps you were given. Grateful you weren't discarded entirely." "I was." "And now?" She snarls. I breathe slowly. Now comes the truth I never allowed myself to say. "I'm done being grateful for survival."

" Hm...." " Mia... We don't have to be strong... Paul said something which amused me when he asked God to remove the thorn of the flesh he was held down by. God replied to him by saying in 2 Corinthians 12. “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong. " " If there's something I learned from that passage then it is, no matter how weak we might be... We don't have to be so worried about it... As then God can fully act a

He could only pick up a pen and paper, struggling to write—I’m sorry. The handwriting was crooked and shaky. As I held the note, I realized my cheeks were damp. The note trembled slightly in my grasp, carrying the final, feeble weight of his regret. I wiped my tears, not out of sorrow for our lost love, but for the sheer tragedy of two people who had destroyed each other. I placed the note gently on the bedside table, leaving his apology behind in this cold, white room. I didn’t think Nikolai needed to say sorry to me. May we never meet again in the next life.

She expressed gratitude for her friends, whose support and laughter had enriched her life in countless ways. In the stillness of her room, Christiana felt a profound connection to the divine. She knew that amidst the uncertainties of life, she was cradled in God's love and grace. Her heart overflowed with gratitude for the abundance that surrounded her—the love of her husband, the promise of her unborn child, and the joy shared by her extended family. Closing her eyes, Christiana offered a silent prayer—a prayer of gratitude, of hope, and of faith. She knew that challenges would arise, but she trusted that God would continue to guide her, offering strength and comfort in times of need.

It was a supplication to God for thanksgiving and asking for his grace and mercy upon the Williams family. “Oh my deah friend,” she cried out excitedly, “how can I thank ya?” she began with tears rolling down to her cheeks. “Thanksgiving belongs to God; we should thank God instead.” Mrs. Williams quickly nodded her head; she sniffed and used both hands to cover her welling eyes. “Thank-you ma’am; God has used ya to console my mother.” Roslyn hastened to say as she went to her mother’s side, wrapping her arms around her mother’s torso. “Oh please,” she waved Roslyn’s words aside. “Like I said, give thanks to God for he along deserves it.” Roslyn looked at her evenly and smiled. Mrs. Anne stoo

' Elijah thought with a slight smile on his lips. Then Miss Grace startled him a little when she touched his shoulder lightly, and he snapped his attention back to her. "I don't know you... at least not that long... but they say people enter your life, not by coincidence, but to change it for the better or worse, or to teach you a lesson. Thank you for helping us." Miss Grace said softly, smiling gratefully at him. The emotions from these two were overwhelming Elijah, and he darted his eyes around until they rested on Miss Grace's pack bag, and he let out, "Umm, I will take that, and then we can get going."

I ask, and she shakes her head slightly. “This was not your fault,” Grace says and I shake my head. “My dad is the one to blame,” she says, and then she stops and frowns. “Was the one to blame,” she lets out and I take a deep breath. I hate she is suffering. “I wish I could take away your pain,” I let out and she smiles before I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing it slightly. “Pain is what makes us stronger, and what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, so I will come out of this like superwoman,” she says and I smile. She really is something else. Only Grace would come out with those thoughts.

The red shirt underneath feels like a deliberate choice, the vibrant color bold against the dark suit, and it reminds me of the blood that will soon be spilled, that will stain my hands before the night is over. “Welcome Mr…” he begins, stretching his hand to me. An unwise decision, I think, as I glance at his extended hand- a gesture to show trust, to form a connection. It's a pity he’s just offered his hand to The Devil, to the very man who will soon be taking his last breath. “Levi” I answer, my voice is calm, controlled, as I grasped his hand in mine. The contact is brief, but it’s enough to have his face imprinted at the back of my mind.