Grace Lyons Quotes

She just has to get out of her own way." I've heard the expression countless times—from my brief forays into Al-Anon to Grace—but it's only now that I hear it, as Grace would say. I'm my own worst enemy. It's great to recognize the problem. How to stop doing it is the biggie.

Irenaeus taught the unity of the testaments in Christ: they were different, because they were different stages in the one divine education of the human race. In contrast to Gnosticism’s cold presumption, he proclaimed God’s patience, visible in Christ and His Passion, given to us as redemptive grace in the form of faith, hope and love, by means of which we preserve a patient and humble distance from the eternal God whom we can never exhaustively comprehend. This attitude is the fundamental condition of all redemption; indeed, it is redemption itself.

The sight of the duke taking liberties had made something boil up inside Jackson that he couldn't suppress. He'd uncharacteristically acted on impulse, and already regretted it. Because the duke now pulled back with the languid motion of all such men of high rank to fix him with a contemptuous stare. "I don't believe we've met, sir." Jackson fought to rein in the wild emotions careening through him. Lady Celia was glaring at him, and the duke was clearly irritated. But now that Jackson had stuck his nose in this, he would see it out. "I'm Jackson Pinter of the Bow Street Office. This lady's brother has hired me to...to..." If he said he'd been hired to investigate suitors, Lady Celia would probably murder him on the spot. "Mr. Pinter is investigating our parents' deaths," she explained in a silky voice that didn't fool Jackson. She was furious. "And apparently he thinks that such a position allows him the right to interfere in more personal matters." When Jackson met her hot gaze, he couldn't resist baiting her. "Your brother also hired me to protect you from fortune hunters. I'm doing my job." Outrage filled the duke's face. "Do you know who I am?" An imminently eligible suitor for her ladyship, damn your eyes. "A man kissing a young, innocent lady without the knowledge or permission of her family." Lady Celia looked fit to be tied. "Mr. Pinter, this is His Grace, the Duke of Lyons. He is no fortune hunter. And this is none of your concern. I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself." Jackson stared her down. "As I said the other day, madam, there isn't enough money in all the world for that." The duke cast him a considering glance. "So what do you plan to do about what you saw, sir?" Jackson tore his gaze from Lady Celia. "That depends upon you, Your Grace, if you both return to the ballroom right now, I don't plan to do anything." Was the relief or chagrin he saw on the duke's face? It was hard to tell in this bad light. "As long as you behave yourself with propriety around Lady Celia in the future," Jackson went on, "I see no reason for any of this to pass beyond this room." "That's good of you." The duke offered Lady Celia his arm. "Shall we, my lady?" "You go on," she said coolly. "I need to speak to Mr. Pinter alone." Glancing from her to Jackson, the duke nodded. "I'll expect a dance from you later, my dear," he said with a smile that rubbed Jackson raw. "Of course." Her gaze locked with Jackson's. "I'd be delighted.

When Christians recover the effect of the Gospel in their own lives to shift their inclinations from judgment to grace, hypocrisy to authenticity, and rejection to acceptance, then outsiders will give them another chance.

Whatever happens on the road ahead, I know His grace is sufficient. If I am single for six more months, six more years, or the rest of my life—His grace is sufficient. He is able to give me strength and to carry me through whatever this life holds.

But one and the same householder produced both covenants, the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, who spoke with Abraham and Moses, and who has again restored us to liberty and has multiplied that grace that is from himself.

She moved with beautiful grace, as if violence were a dance she had practiced since childhood.

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This [custom], of not bending the knee upon Sunday, is a symbol of the resurrection, through which we have been set free, by the grace of Christ, from sins, and from death, which has been put to death under Him. Now this custom took its rise from apostolic times, as the blessed Irenaeus, the martyr and bishop of Lyons, declares in his treatise On Easter, in which he makes mention of Pentecost also; upon which [feast] we do not bend the knee, because it is of equal significance with the Lord’s day, for the reason already alleged concerning it.

This is Grace's fault. Years of glorious unfruitful sex, and I get pregnant the second I put on her stupid fertility necklace. Now I'm a single mother, which was my worst fear, worse than being a married mother. Grace used to say the universe gives us the things we fear in order to show us we're stronger than we think.

For most people, sharing those details would mean nothing, but for someone who plays everything close to the vest, it feels as though I gave away a part of myself. Cold air whistles through the small hole it left in my armor; a way in for a dagger. But Grace says this is how you do it—you hand them the dagger and trust they won't use it.

I'm the happiest I've ever been, which is strange but true. And it's not only Eric—it's Guillermo snoring away on a bench, Maria and Jorge dancing, Grace trying to come back from her shattered life, Rissa asking me for help, and a thousand other things. It's the soft lights on Indy's face as she laughs at Paul. It's community—something I've never had and always wanted, though I pretended it didn't matter.

You test people," Grace continues. "You push them away to see if they'll come back, and, even if they do, you push until they don't. You pretend not to have feelings. Getting you to say anything but a joke or angry words is impossible." Even when I want to let them out, words cling in my throat like barnacles. And, after I'm invariably disappointed, I'm glad I haven't given my true feelings away. But maybe it's because I haven't said them that I'm invariably disappointed. I'm sure I've caused my share of disappointment to the people who've waited for words instead of my signature wordless stare.

See?" I say. "That's what I didn't want." Grace faces me, her eyes red. "I can have more than one emotion at a time, Syls. I can be sad for me and happy for you, but not telling me will definitely make me upset. Even if I cry, it's okay.