Michael Combs

“He was a man with a son who stuttered and another probably on his way to becoming a juvenile delinquent and a daughter with a harelip who sneaked in at night from God knew where and a wife who resented his profession. Yet I knew it was not for himself or for any of us that he was praying. More likely it was for the parents of Bobby Cole. And for Gus. And probably for an asshole named Morris Engdahl. Praying on their behalf. Praying I suppose for the awful grace of God. 2 She wore a white terry-cloth robe and her feet were bare.”
― William Kent Krueger, Ordinary Grace

“Heavenly Father, for the blessings of this food and these friends and our families, we thank you. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
― William Kent Krueger, Ordinary Grace

“She hung up and the room was a fist of silence.”
― William Kent Krueger, Ordinary Grace

“Heavenly Father, for the blessings of this food and these friends and our families, we thank you. In Jesus’s name, amen.” That was it. That was all of it. A grace so ordinary there was no reason at all to remember it. Yet I have never across the forty years since it was spoken forgotten a single word.”
― William Kent Krueger, Ordinary Grace