Sol Gregory glared at the antique mirror spotted with age, just like him. He gulped as he recalled Dr. Singer’s words. It’s cancer. If only his wife Suzie hadn’t nagged and pushed him to get a physical. If he’d refused the colonoscopy, Sol would be whistling this morning instead of worrying. His daddy had lived to be ninety and never went to see a doctor because he’d claimed doctors made you sick so they could make a living. And now, Dr. Singer insisted Sol needed to see another doctor…a cancer specialist.
Today was the twenty-fifth annual 5k Weldon Wellness Run, and he was going to be in the race, cancer or no cancer. Sol ignored the new bright blue t-shirt on the bed and stomped to the dresser. The young guys on his team could promote his Chevron station. He planned to wear the shirt he won for finishing in the top ten at the first 5K Weldon Wellness Run. The faded trophy shirt was buried somewhere in his drawer. Sol sighed and wished he could go back in time and tell his forty-year-old self not to worry about the bills, the bankers, and the college tuition for his boys. Those concerns were trivial compared to the new weight on his shoulders.
Sol dug through the neatly folded clothes, found the faded trophy shirt, and pulled it over his head. When he walked into the kitchen. Suzie sat drinking coffee and reading her Bible.
Suzie looked up and arched a brow. “That old shirt looks like it ought to be in the rag bag.”
“It’s old and worn out, just like me.”
“Nonsense.” Suzie stood and pecked his cheek. “You’re the same good-looking man I married forty-five years ago and still running faster than a spooked feral cat.”
“My fast days are over.”
“I’ll have no part of a pity party. I fixed you a bagel with peanut butter so you won’t run out of energy.”
Sol frowned. “I’ll eat, and then we need to go.”
“Let me take a picture of you wearing your prize shirt and post it on Facebook. The grandkids will get a kick out of seeing their old grandpa running in a race.”
“I wish they lived closer.”
“Me too.” Suzie’s eyes twinkled. “But, we’ll see them soon.”
Sol finished his breakfast in record time. “Let’s go.”
By the time they reached the town square, the crowd had overflowed from the sidewalks into the blocked-off street. It was easy for Sol to find his team wearing the bright blue shirts advertising his gas station.
Billy West hooted. “Man, that’s an old shirt, Mr. Gregory.”
Sol clapped him on the shoulder. “Just like me, but the seams are still holding together.”
The mayor, Virginia Willoughby, spoke into a bullhorn. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to line up. If you’re just participating for fun, please make way for the competitive racers.”
The participants included people of all ages. A few moms had strollers to push through the course, and a host of kids mingled among the adults. Those runners hoping to win a trophy shuffled and tried to angle closer to the start line.
Virginia spoke louder. “I’d like to read a verse of scripture before we start. The rowdy crowd quieted, and the mayor moved the mouthpiece closer to her lips. Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, (2) looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:1-2 NKJV.
Sol stretched his muscles and pondered the secret weight he carried. Upon hearing Dr. Singer’s diagnosis, a numbness had washed over him, and later, when the shock wore off, anger filled his entire being. The words of the familiar scripture dampened the fury he’d been feeding. Sol closed his eyes. Father, help me surrender this.
Within seconds, Virginia’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Prepare to start – On your mark… Get set… Go!”
Sol’s adrenaline kicked in, and he started running. He passed the mayor’s daughter, Emma Baker, a former high-school cross-country runner, and she grinned.
Sol picked out Suzie, waving enthusiastically in the crowd of bystanders. Both children and adult runners trotted down Main Street like a herd of cattle.
Usually, Sol kept his face down while running, but today, he lifted his chin and savored every minute. The trees lining the street were beautiful, and the shade from the leaves blocked the sun’s harsh rays.
After the first few blocks, Sol’s shins ached, but he kept his eyes on the clouds above, and he prayed, Forgive me for my anger. He rounded the corner, and a stitch in his side made him wince. In the distance, he could make out Noble Biggs, his old buddy from grade school, sitting in his wheelchair, passing out cups of water. Sol stopped in front of him and grabbed a cup, “Thank you, buddy.”
“Show those young’uns what you’re made of’” Noble lifted his fist in the air.
Salty sweat stung Sol’s eyes while he gulped the water. “I feel like I’m made out of Swiss cheese.”
“Drink another cup then.” Sol poured water over his head and sprinted away. As he passed the halfway point, his left leg started to cramp, but he limped on and kept his head up. The urge to sing startled him. In his mind, he heard, To God be the glory, great things he hath done…
The cramp in his leg intensified, and he paused to stretch. Emma stopped next to him and wiped her brow with her forearm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just a little cramp. Don’t stop for me.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Go.”
Emma’s brows were furrowed as she jogged backward, then she turned around and disappeared into the crowd.
Other racers passed Sol as he limped down the street. I should just give up. The backs of other runners filled his line of vision. Sol rubbed his aching calf. Lord, give me strength, and I’ll give you the glory. He felt a tug on his shirt, then a small hand touched his. Eight-year-old Becca Reynolds from church chewed her lip. “You okay, Mr. Sol?”
“I’m about whooped, but I’m gonna do my best cross the finish line.”
“I’m tired too. Let’s sit down and quit.”
He looked into Becca’s dark eyes, took her hand, and started walking, pulling her with him.
“Let’s not give up. Remember what Mrs. Virginia read from the Bible when we started? Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.
“But I’m tired.”
“Me too, but I’ve run this race before, and when we cross the finish line, we’re going to give God the glory.
As they walked, Sol continued to hear the familiar hymn in his head. “Let’s sing Becca, and he belted out in his strong baritone voice, “To God be the glory, great things he hath done…”
Becky started singing with him, and in the distance, he could see the finish line. Crowds from the sideline clapped and cheered them on. Sol held onto Becca’s hand. The cramps in his legs disappeared, and they picked up their pace, walking and singing all the while. Others on the sidelines started singing with them, Great things he hath taught us, great things he hath done, And great our rejoicing through Jesus the Son.
Suzie stood at the finish line, and next to her, his two sons, James and Sam, their wives, and his four grandchildren cheered. Joy infused his entire being, and he wiped the tears from his eyes. It seemed all of Weldon sang, Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, let the earth hear his voice, Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, let the people rejoice, Oh come to the Father through Jesus the Son, And give Him the glory, great things He hath done.
Sol and Becky crossed the finish line, and his family overtook him with hugs. He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew he’d been blessed beyond anything he deserved. Sol would run his race with endurance because he could look to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of his faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross.
****
Dear Readers,
I first wrote this story several years ago and I decided to update it and share it again. Sometimes, to get to know more about the minor characters in my books, I write short stories about them. Through the years of edits, Sol Gregory was eliminated from Every Window Filled with Light. He was relegated to a nameless tow-truck driver. Sol is still a character I love, so I wanted to share a part of his story with you. If you read Weldon’s Secret Santa, you might remember Sol sitting on the stool next to Randall McCullough, Emma Baker’s neighbor, at the Triple D.
The Weldon townsfolk are unique characters I’ve dreamed up, and I love them all. Sadly, I’ll never have enough room in my novels to share the details of the minor characters’ lives. I wonder if Jan Karon faced this dilemma when she populated Mitford. Maybe, through these little short stories, you’ll learn to love the minor characters just as much as the central characters in my Weldon series.
If you want to know more about my novel, this is what other authors who read Every Window Filled with Light said.
Click on book to link to Amazon
A charming story of love and loss and love again. A gift for anyone who has journeyed through the shadows of grief and emerged into sunlight. —Phil Gulley, Best-selling author of the Harmony series.
Every Window Filled with Light by Shelia Stovall is a warm and delightful story of forgiveness and hope. Stovall skillfully paints a great word picture of her fictional little town of Weldon and peoples it with characters you will be glad to meet as you follow their stories. You’ll love the generous heart of Emma and admire her resilience as she faces the challenges of life and love. If you like feel-good stories, then Every Window Filled with Light is a book you won’t want to miss.—Ann H. Gabhart, best-selling author of An Appalachian Summer.
Every Window Filled With Light is a beautiful story of hope and new beginnings, filled with characters who come alive, and a deeper meaning that will resonate in readers’ hearts. An excellent debut!—Misty M. Beller, USA Today bestselling author.
A lovely story of friendship, faith and forgiveness, restoration and redemption—with an engaging romance that will warm your heart. Shelia Stovall invites you into a community where broken people come together to help one another, with the charm of a small town and a deep message of how faith heals. Shelia Stovall has created a charming community of characters who make you yearn for a visit and a piece of pie. Every Window Filled With Light tackles tough issues with warmth and wisdom. A wonderful small-town novel full of caring souls you’ll be happy to get to know. A heartwarming story full of faith, hope and love.—Judy Christie, author of the Gone to Green series.
What a sweet Christian debut! I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know this cast of small-town characters!.—Janet W. Ferguson, 2020 FHL Readers’ Choice Award Winner, 2017 Grace Award Winner, Christy Award Finalist, Selah Award Finalist, Ian Award Finalist.
Every Window Filled With Light by Shelia Stovall is a masterfully woven story of friendship, hope, and fried fruit pies. The stories of Emma Baker, who longs for children and who sees no hope of that since her husband’s murder, and Harley West, an abandoned teen who sees no hope for her future at all, come together in the small town of Weldon, Kentucky. Only God could have orchestrated the events in the lives of Emma and Harley along with those of a handsome young unmarried pastor. With God directing their paths, this is the story of how they all helped one another through seemingly impossible circumstances. The colorful characters and all those fried fruit pies will leave your mouth and your heart watering for more of the flavor of this small Southern town and its people. Filled with Biblical wisdom, this one is unputdownable. Highly recommended.—Debra DuPree Williams, Author Grave Consequences, A Charlotte Graves Mystery.
Click on the book jacket to visit my Amazon page to order Every Window Filled with Light or to check out other reviews. If you’ve read Every Window Filled with Light, I’d appreciate a review. Word-of-mouth is still the best way to get noticed. If you would like to leave a review on Amazon but know don’t know how, check out this Youtube video.
Goodreads reviews are also appreciated.
Thanks for stopping by today. If you have a prayer request, please let me know.
Hugs and prayers,
Shelia
