Faith

GOD'S SUBTLE MIRACLES

by William (Bill) Welker
03/28/25
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                                      GOD’S SUBTLE MIRACLES
                                    . . . from Personal Lifetime Experiences
                                                       

INTRODUCTION   

     I have been plagued with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) my entire life.  Off-Springs of OCD are feelings of being inferior to others as well as experiencing bouts of anxiety and panic attacks.  Another negative symptom is depression, a result of dwelling on nonproductive thoughts.  Even when I was young, my mom would say I dwell on things too much. 

     There is, however, a positive side.  Whenever I’m involved in a project, I won’t stop until it comes to fruition.

     With that being said, as I look back at the following stressful times in my life, I have to wonder if something greater than myself played a role, considering my emotional make-up.

THE ATHLETIC ARENA

     To be successful in any sport, the athlete must be very confident and believe in him- or herself.  I not only lacked confidence, but I also had feelings of being defeated prior to any competition in which I participated.  I also had trouble sleeping and worried hours before competing.  Believe me, those are not the thoughts of successful athletes.

     The sports tradition in my family involved wrestling.  My brother, Floyd, was a state champion, my cousin, Harold, was a state titlist, and many of my cousins also competed in wrestling.  Thus, I had no choice but to wrestle – an individual sport where all eyes are on you.  An environment that created more stress for me.  

     Wrestling is a contact sport.  All great wrestlers are very physical during a match.  They also demonstrate what I call mental toughness.  Although I was a student of the game, learning various important mat skills, I lacked both of the above traits which are prerequisites for success in wrestling.

     One would think, with my non-competitive make-up, that my experiences on the mats as an adolescent would have been less than admirable.  Such was not the case.   
     I ended my scholastic career on the mats, winning a state championship and holding the record for the most victories at my high school.

     Go figure.

     No.

     God figured in it.  He intervened on my behalf, giving me the strength of character to face my competitive fears head on during each and every match.  I know there is no other explanation.  

THE FINAL EXAM

     I had an interesting experience as an undergraduate student at the University of Pittsburgh.  During a review of a United States history final exam I was about to take, our recitation professor told us what specific topics we should study for the test. There was a problem, though.  Another professor in the Pitt history department developed the evaluation.

     Upon perusing the test, I realized that none of the essay questions were ever

emphasized in my class. I must confess, for a moment, I was in a state of panic.

     I then remembered what my grandmother once said to me. 

    “Billy, no matter what happens today, the Sun will come up in the morning.”

     So, In an act of desperation, I opened the final exam blue book and wrote a brief note to my recitation professor, explaining my dilemma. Then, I developed essay questions of my own, answering them with everything I studied for the test.

     It paid off.

     Even though I did not answer a single essay question on the test, my reward

for this effort of last resort was an “A” in the course. I suspect my recitation

professor was impressed with my ingenuity.

     Was it my ingenuity, a moment of my own design?  I think not, especially since I

was in such a state of extreme anxiety. 

     I now realize it was a moment of divine inspiration.  I had a God-driven

epiphany. 

THE GOOD SAMARITAN

     My initial years as a teacher at Warwood Junior High School (Wheeling, West Virginia) finances were tight.  Teaching salaries in West Virginia were below the national norm.  Still, I was able to set aside some money for my family to visit Mom and Dad in Shamokin, Pennsylvania for the Easter weekend. Our family had grown to six with the arrival of our third son, Dan-E.

     When we left on Thursday morning, the weather was beautiful on the

five-hour drive across Pennsylvania to Shamokin. Mom and Dad were excited

about seeing their grandkids, especially our new addition to the family.

     The visit was wonderful and, as always, it was hard to say good-bye Easter

Sunday after church.

     It was another sunny day when we started home.

     After a couple of hours driving, we stopped at Dave’s Dream, in the Hollidaysburg, Pennsylvania area, to enjoy a mid-afternoon meal. The diner also sold delicious

homemade bread and pies.  After purchasing raisin bread for my wife, Peggy, upon leaving, I had ten dollars left in my wallet.  But that was no problem because our

next stop would be Wheeling.

     As we passed Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, it started to snow lightly. But as we traveled further west, it turned into a blizzard.  Nearing Ebensburg, Pennsylvania, I couldn’t see ten feet in front of me as I slowly drove up a long incline.

     At the top of the hill, which is part of the eastern edge of the Allegheny

Mountains, I realized we could go no further.

     Fortunately, I knew that there was a motel close by.  As we drove into the

parking lot of The Cottage Inn, my car slid to a stop.  We parked in front of

the motel office.

     I led the way as the family entered the motel. We had to get in line because

others were also seeking shelter from the elements. When I approached

the desk clerk, I realized I only had ten dollars to my name.

     I explained to the clerk my family’s predicament, and that I would send

him a check on Monday when we reached home. I even went as far as to offer

him my Pitt class ring as collateral.

     He looked at Peggy and the kids and said, “I’m sorry, sir, but it costs

$35.00 a room.  Don’t you have a credit card?”

     “No, I don’t.”

     “Well, then I can’t help you.”

     “But what about my family?”

     “I’m sorry, but that’s your problem.”

     A man, who was right behind us, stepped forward and said, “Put his room

fare on my credit card.”

     I didn’t know what to say, but “Thank you so much; I’ll send you a check on

Monday.”

     “I’m not worried about that; I didn’t want your family sleeping in the car

all night. My name’s Dr. Miller; I’m a dentist in Greensburg, Pennsylvania.”

     “Well, Dr. Miller, Peggy and I can’t thank you enough. What is your address?”

     “Here’s my business card.”

     I then introduced him to my family and told him that I was a teacher from

Wheeling, West Virginia.  He told us he had been there many times and wished us a safe trip the rest of the way home.

     That Monday I sent a check to him and a “Letter to the Editor” of the

Greensburg newspaper, expressing my gratitude to Dr. Miller.

     I promised myself that I would do the same for a person in need someday

in the future.

     Since then, I fulfilled that commitment, a number of times.

     As I look back at this incident, I can’t help but wonder what were the odds for such an offer of kindness from a complete stranger, who was standing behind me at the motel.  I suspect very low.

     A stroke of luck? 

     I think not.

     Another real-life example of divine influence? 

    Absolutely.

MY COLLEGE COACHING GOAL

     In the spring of 1973, I received a surprise letter from an eastern college.  I was invited to be interviewed for the positions of physical education instructor and head wrestling coach at York College, a small institution of higher learning in York, Pennsylvania.

     At that time, I dreamed of becoming a college coach.  Also, it would bring us closer to our Pennsylvania hometown.

     What a deal!

     I went for the day-long interview with the athletic director of the school on a Wednesday. The campus was beautiful.  After returning to Wheeling, I received a phone call from the athletic director that night, offering me the job. I was elated, and so was Peggy. We were going back to our home area.

     But then the bottom dropped out.

     Late that Friday night, I received another call from the athletic director. As it turned

out, he did recommend me for the position, but the president of York College

wanted to hire another applicant who was a good friend of his during their college

days. The athletic director told me how bad he felt and it took him hours to make the call.

     I was crushed and cried in my wife’s arms.  She was just as sorrowful over

the injustice, especially since she had two brothers and a sister who lived in

the York area.  Peggy would have loved living near them.

     At the time, I couldn’t understand why God ignored my prayers for such a position.

It was as though He turned his back on me. I was depressed for weeks.  I felt

betrayed and I didn’t know how to move forward.

     Decades later, I realized that God had a plan for me that would be to my

best interest.  At Warwood Junior High School, I fell in love with the students, parents and community.  I never felt more satisfied as a teacher.  In fact, I spent the last 33 years of my teaching career there, retiring with a sense of extreme gratification.

     Likewise, during those Warwood years, I had the fortune to work toward and earn a Doctor of Education degree at West Virginia University.  This was an opportunity that I never would have been afforded had I moved to York, Pennsylvania.  

       In retrospect, I am reminded of a quote from the late Kirk Douglas, who found religion later in life and was a strong proponent of the power of prayer.

      On one occasion, Kirk Douglas was confronted by a friend who stated that God doesn’t answer all prayers.  Mr. Douglas retorted, “Oh, yes He does, but sometimes the answer is NO.”

     God certainly does perform unpredictable wonders.

THE DREAM OF WRITING A BOOK

     Ever since I started coaching wrestling after graduating from college, I always wanted to write a book on the sport of wrestling.  Having had an extensive

background in the sport, I had a lot of ideas I jotted down over the years.  But I considered writing a book was just a pipedream since I didn’t have anywhere near enough money to do so. 

      Then in May of 2003, I received a very unexpected e-mail from an acquisition editor who worked for the Human Kinetics Publishing Company located in Champaign, Illinois.  They specialize in publishing sports and physical fitness books.

     I was offered the opportunity to write a wrestling book at no financial expense to me.  I was to formulate the philosophy and goal of the book, create relevant chapters, find well-known personalities in the field who would be willing to author a chapter in their area of expertise, author my own concluding chapter, and constantly edit the book throughout the entire literary project.  Sounds like a very challenging endeavor. But, for me, it was a labor of love.

     After over two years of developing the book, it was finally published in the fall of 2005, entitled The Wrestling Drill Book.  It was so widely accepted by the wrestling community that in 2012 a second edition was published.  Amazingly, nearly 36,000 copies have been purchased.

    Was that initial e-mail just a coincidence?

    I think not.

    Or, another benefaction from God?

    Most certainly!

MY MOTHER’S FINAL GIFT

     “Mrs. Welker, your son Billy is a piece of work.”

     Those words of my elementary principal, Mr. Newberry, were spoken after I’d

run panic-stricken home from school in the spring of 1954. I’d gotten into trouble at

school that day and was running away from Mr. Newberry: He was about to paddle

me—again—for misbehaving.

     I told my parents that I’d misbehaved in my first-grade reading class and the

principal was going to punish me at the end of the day. I tried to make excuses for my

behavior, but in the end, my father sent me immediately to bed.

     The next day my mother took me to the principal’s office and instructed me to

apologize to Mr. Newberry. In tears, I remorsefully pleaded for forgiveness, begging

not to be paddled.

     The principal accepted my apology. But he made it clear that if I misbehaved

again, I would have to face the consequences of my actions.

     My mother thanked the principal for his understanding and pledged to work

with me regarding discipline in school.

     Throughout my life, my mother was always there for me.

     On June 4, 2011, my mother began a new eternal life with her Father in heaven. Mother’s spiritual foundation was built around her deep devotion to the Trinity –God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

     By her example, Floyd and I not only learned how to pray, but even more importantly, we learned the power of prayer in our lives.

     As our protector, whenever Floyd and I got into trouble with Dad, she would

calm him down and save us from dire consequences. She even went as far as to tell

Dad little “white lies” to save our young hides. I’m sure Dad knew. However, due to

his steadfast love for Mom, he let some of our childhood transgressions pass.

     After Mom’s funeral, I began to feel guilty for not always being the best of sons.

I thought of my losing patience with her as Mom got older. I wanted to tell her one

last time, “I’m sorry, Mom, for all I put you through growing up, for sometimes being

moody, and for not telling you how much ‘I love you’ more often.”

     I was so saddened by these thoughts while cleaning out the house that evening.  The negative side of my OCD was working overtime.

     After disposing of some old clothing in the trash can, I happened to see a glint on the sidewalk from the street light.  When I picked it up, I was amazed to see it was a lapel pin in the shape of a heart with a dove connected.  Even after her departure, God

permitted Mother to send her final unconditional gift of love filled with forgiveness.

     I wear it to this very day.

CONCLUSION

    I am, by no means, a perfect person.  I am especially ashamed of the sins of my youth.  I also have a temper, I sometimes use profanity.  I am very opinionated, and I often get angry when people don’t agree with me.  Such behavior fills me with an abundance of regrets.  I pray daily for forgiveness.

     Many have pondered over what is known as the “Unforgivable Sin”.  As for me, the unforgivable sin is never asking God for forgiveness. 

     I know God has forgiven me.  But like so many of us, I have trouble forgiving myself.  We are our own worst enemies.  

     Yes, as unworthy as I am, God has blessed me with His loving Grace – a love that is unconditional.

     In sum, there are “subtle miracles” throughout one’s life.

     So subtle, that they often go unnoticed, taken for granted or chalked up as strokes of luck.

I think not.

     God’s spiritual ways and unique miracles are truly mysterious.  It is not for us to understand.  I surely don’t.  Our job is to believe and have an extreme faith in God.