Real: A Testimony

By T.R. O'Reilly

Theresa and Paul were an unlikely pair. But after a harrowing trip together through a blizzard in a Volkswagen Beetle that had no heat and only one working windshield wiper, they knew they had found something special.
Thus began their unpredictable journey across life’s seas, which the author recalls in Real. Their story is a testimony to God’s relentless, unconditional, and real love.
Each challenge they encountered was like an ocean storm, threatening to dash their boat against the rocks. They navigated the waters of raising a special needs child, cross-country and overseas relocations, a marriage one counselor declared “incompatible,” the loss of dear loved ones, and the trials of extreme physical crises.
Continually and without fail, the lighthouse—the Light of the World—stood firm upon the shore, guiding them to safety. Over and over again, the Lord performed awesome acts of love resulting in supernatural outcomes.
Real will fill you with expectant hope and encourage your soul, all while confirming that you are not alone through life’s storms. God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is with you and will never leave you or abandon you because His love for you is real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: May 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781664295193

T.R. O'Reilly

Theresa Rose O’Reilly wishes to acknowledge the true author of Real—the Lord God Almighty. She seeks to encourage others whenever she can and likes attending Special Olympics events. She is a retired United States military veteran and is passionate about serving others. She enjoys teaming up with her husband to support food pantries and other charitable organizations.

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Copyright © 2023 T.R. O’Reilly.

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This book is a work of nonfiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

WestBow Press

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Unless otherwise noted, all Scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible® (NASB), Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation Used by permission. www.Lockman.org

Scripture quotations marked NRSVUE are taken from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-1-6642-9518-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-9520-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-9519-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023904705

WestBow Press rev. date: 04/27/2023

CONTENTS

Author’s Note

Preface

Prologue

PART 1: Faith

Chapter 1 Beginnings

Chapter 2 Special Delivery

Chapter 3 Challenges and Adjustments

Chapter 4 Change of Priorities

PART 2: Hope

Chapter 5 Opportunities to Trust

Chapter 6 Answering the Call

Chapter 7 The Angel on My Shoulder

Chapter 8 Sudden and Unexpected

Chapter 9 Noose around My Neck

PART 3: Courage

Chapter 10 Life Changer

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Afterword

Glossary

Bibliography

About the Author

Endnotes

This book is

dedicated to the one true God: the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. All of it from You—all of it for You, Lord.

Restore us to You, O Lord, that we may be restored; Renew our days as of old, Unless You have utterly rejected us And are exceedingly angry with us.

—Lamentations 5:21–22

Return to Me, and I will return to you, says the Lord of hosts.

—Malachi 3:7

However, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?

—Luke 18:8

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Names and some minor details have been changed to protect the identity of the people in this story. Please respect the privacy of any characters you may recognize. Thank you—and God bless you.

PREFACE

Make known His deeds among the peoples; Make them remember that His name is exalted.

—Isaiah 12:4

I had never even considered writing a book, so imagine my surprise when, more than six years ago, the Holy Spirit prompted me to share a part of my life with you.

At first, I was given nudges—reminders of how much God has done for me in the past and how it would be good for me to write down all those blessings. Scriptures accompanied those spiritual prompts, especially the one at the top of this page. The above exhortation is found in the Bible three times: 1 Chronicles 16:8; Psalm 105:1; and Isaiah 12:4. During that time, I was led to one of those exact instances nearly every day or to a similar verse (1 Chronicles 16:24; Psalm 96:3; Psalm 118:17; Psalm 145:6, 12). The nudges became more insistent over the course of several months, their intensity increasing in direct proportion to my resistance. The whole idea seemed absurd, although it was true God had indeed blessed me and my family abundantly. In fact, I prayed a prayer almost every morning based on a verse from the Book of Deuteronomy: I will serve the Lord my God ‘with joy and a glad heart, for the abundance of all things’ (Deuteronomy 28:47). He had done so very much for me; His blessings were far more than abundant.

I began to think seriously about the command I had been given. I did have a choice in the matter, but if I really meant what I was telling God in my daily prayer, then it made sense that I should deliver on my promise to serve Him. He had certainly kept all His promises to me, and had done far greater things, including dying on a cross for my sins and saving my needy soul.

OK—I’ll do it. Work through me in whatever way You will, Lord—all for Your glory, not mine.

That response was a far cry from other times throughout my life when God had asked of me things I didn’t want to give. Many times, I acted foolishly and strayed from the path set before me, following an empty promise of great treasure to be found at the top of a craggy, metaphorical mountain path, in danger of slipping from the summit to my death. The Good Shepherd had always found His lost sheep, saving her from her sinful choices. I was forgiven. Jesus had saved my soul and urged me forward to do His works, no longer my own empty ones. I came to realize that if I had not fallen off the path of righteousness and had not sinned, I would be like the debtor in the parable who was forgiven only fifty denarii, not the one who was forgiven 500 (Luke 7:37–50). Jesus said, He who is forgiven little, loves little, stating clearly that the opposite is also true. Amen. I love Jesus more than life itself and am a living testimony of His grace, mercy, and forgiveness. By God’s own infinite grace, He never gave up on me. Through the Holy Spirit, I was empowered to walk on God’s straight path, not the crooked one I had created for myself. I had repented, but, remorsefully, I’ve never forgotten the people I have harmed. I’m so thankful that Jesus kept pursuing me—kept loving me until I turned back to Him. God repetitively forgave my sin and turned it around, thwarting the devil in the process, and made something good out of what had been only evil. And now I love Jesus like the debtor who was forgiven 500 denarii. I love Him much. Amen and alleluia!

My answer was yes. I’ll write the book, Lord. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I trust You to guide me by Your Holy Spirit. By Your grace alone, I will pick up the pen of a ready writer (Psalm 45:1) and do what I ought to do (Luke 17:10).

Image1.jpg

The Lost Sheep, by Alfred M. Soord¹

While not all of life’s ups and downs are notated on these bound pages, there are enough of them to demonstrate how amazing God’s plans have been for not only my life but the lives of my family members. He has consistently shown His grace, love, and mercy—both to me and to those whom I love. This book includes both cautionary tales and those of triumph and is a true testimony of God’s relentless, unconditional, and real love. My intent is to glorify God alone. The name of the devil will only be mentioned when it seems necessary to warn others about his devious ways.

It is my hope that you will see how the events relayed in this book also hold the promise of God’s love for you. Maybe, as you’re reading it, you’ll be able to see a little bit of yourself in the things that my loved ones and I have gone through.

Without Jesus in my life, I would never have made it this far. I would have given up and crawled into a hole. The Lord has done awesome things for me and my family. I want to encourage you to keep going—you are not alone. God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is with you, because He—and His love for you—is real.

PROLOGUE

Perhaps it’s because of my human nature, but whenever I’ve sailed on fair seas, so to speak, I’ve had a tendency to barely glance up at the proverbial lighthouse. However, the minute the waves rise and obscure the shoreline from view, I become alarmed. In order to get my bearings, I focus all of my attention on that bright light standing sentinel on the shore.

It was the arrival of an unexpected storm—one with waves higher than I had ever seen—that had me searching more desperately for that beacon than ever before. For years, tension had been building between Paul and me like a sheet of black ice. It was unseen but deeply felt—and just as deadly.

This new test on the horizon hit us full force and became a maelstrom we’d barely get through. That nefarious storm ambushed us during a seemingly normal winter’s day. But the faithful lighthouse was there, just as it had always been. The tiny, brilliant light stayed right in front of us, shining brighter than ever before. It cut through the brooding black clouds like a knife. For months on end, the careening clouds of our fiery ordeal met the roiling sea. As if scheming together, they pummeled the strong tower that held the beacon of life. Still, it stood—visible to all those in most need of its promise. In time, that beacon of hope seared through the coconspirators of clouds and sea like a laser—vaporizing them into a harmless mist.

The fortress that cradled the light—and our souls—stood firmly on the rock (see Psalm 62:6). It was not shaken; it never had been and never would be.

PART I

Faith

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Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

—Hebrews 11:1

CHAPTER 1

Beginnings

You will make known to me the path of life.

—Psalm 16:11

My husband and I met each other in the seventies, when life seemed much less complicated than in recent years. The Vietnam War was over, and the opportunities that the military offered were enticing to a couple of kids just starting out on their own. Before we even met, Paul and I had each taken the oath of enlistment to serve our country and ultimately ended up being assigned to the same unit at a midwestern base.

Paul was a dashingly handsome man who had a wonderful sense of humor—an immediate magnet to a young woman with a quite serious nature. He owned the most genuine smile I had ever seen—with teeth as bright as a nova—and he flashed it at me whenever I was near.

Immediately intrigued, I still played hard to get. It wasn’t until an eventful trip home to spend Thanksgiving with my parents that a unique love started to form.

Paul had been undeterred by my nonchalant attitude toward him, even offering me a ride to Wisconsin that first Thanksgiving. His parents lived within thirty miles of my own, so it seemed like a good plan. Besides that, it was hard to pass up a free ride home.

Our unit only worked a half day that Wednesday before the long holiday weekend commenced, and I was already packed and ready to go when a friend dropped me off at the barracks where I lived. I hauled my cumbersome suitcase down the stairs and waited for Paul to arrive. He pulled up in his noisy yellow Volkswagen Beetle just after noon. The day was damp, the smell of snow hung heavily in the air, and thick gray clouds hovered over our heads. The local weather forecasters had predicted a blizzard, but the lure of eating Thanksgiving dinner together with our respective families infused us with a dogged determination to make the journey north.

The snow had just begun to fall when I slid into the front seat of Paul’s Volkswagen. He handed me a blanket that he had brought along specifically to keep you warm.

Keep me warm? I wonder what he means by that?

In the next breath, Paul made his previous statement quite clear when he said, The heating cable on the passenger side is broken—I’m sorry.

Astonished—and uncharacteristically speechless—I wondered how my temperate body would deal with the lack of heat: my ideal comfort range at that time was between seventy to seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. Feeling slightly betrayed by my chauffeur, the realization hit me that it was far too late to make other plans. Dismay turned into resignation, and the desire to see my parents overrode the apprehension I felt at taking a road trip in an ice cube on wheels. It had been three months since I had left home at the tender age of eighteen; I really missed Mom and Dad. Besides, it will only take four or five hours. And even though Paul does some odd things, he’s really cute.

To say that the weather predictions had been correct was an understatement. Within an hour of leaving the base, I knew we were in trouble. I began praying—hard. It would turn out to be one of the longest prayers of my life. The snow that was falling from the sky was not light and fluffy. It was heavy and sticky and tenaciously grabbed onto the windshield, refusing to budge. There was no doubt about it—we were caught up in a full-fledged, it-hasn’t-been-this-bad-in-twenty-years kind of blizzard. Vehicles were strewn in the ditches like Matchbox cars that had spun off their circular racetrack. Amazingly, we just kept plugging along in that tiny VW Beetle, slowly but surely inching our way forward on the nearly invisible highway.

Most of the time, the road truly was invisible to Paul, whose driver’s side windshield wiper was broken. He forgot to mention that detail before we left, I inwardly harrumphed. Shuddering in disbelief, I watched Paul stick his arm out the window every few minutes to wipe the snow off the windshield with his coat sleeve. Unbelievable, I thought as I rolled my eyes. Although he showed some creativity, Paul was not exactly winning me over. But at least he had tenacity and determination—both traits that I admired.

At some point during our long drive north, after I became numb to the cold and the sheer terror of the situation, we began to converse. We shared our backgrounds and got to know each other a little better. If nothing else, it was one way to take our minds off the dangerous journey we had embarked on—and the damp cold. By that point, it had seeped its way deep into our bones.

I learned that Paul, just like me, was the last of six children and had five older brothers.

Oh—I do too—and four of my brothers are twins: Patrick and Peter, and Glenn and George. James is the oldest.

That’s amazing, Paul said in astonishment. We don’t have any twins in my family—just singles. My brothers’ names are Steve, Mike, Larry, Dennis, and Kevin.

Paul also told me that his parents, like my own, were loving but strict—and staunch Catholics. He confided to me that he, too, had attended parochial school. I found out that Paul had received a different type of attention from the nuns than I had, though—something about an alternate use for a ruler. All in all, I was surprised to find out just how much we had in common. Without realizing it at the time, the door to my heart began to crack open, but by only the slightest of measures.

Our conversation had warmed us up, but only briefly. And I had to start rubbing my hands and