A Journey of Faith, Friendship, and Courage

More than 25 years ago, Lori and I first crossed paths as young women eager to serve. We joined the Sisters of St. Francis of the Immaculate Conception, known as the Heading Avenue Franciscans in West Peoria, IL, to teach Vacation Bible School on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Those days of prayer, teaching, and laughter formed a bond that has lasted a lifetime. We became fast friends. Our birthdays are only a day apart, and over the years, we've celebrated milestones together. I was at her wedding, and later, at the baptism of her oldest son.

Life, as it often does, carried us down different roads. Though we’ve only seen each other three or four times in person since those early days, we never lost touch. Social media, texts, cards, and, most importantly, prayer have kept our friendship alive.

In 2014, Lori received a diagnosis that changed everything: Adrenal Cortical Carcinoma (ACC), also known as cancer of the adrenal gland. It is a one-in-a-million cancer, with a devastatingly low survival rate, because there are typically no symptoms until it has already spread into other organs. By the time it is discovered, treatment is incredibly difficult. Since that moment, Lori has been living not only with ACC but also with additional cancers that have followed.

And yet, she continues to live with extraordinary courage, humor, and faith. In her own words, she describes how “not all cancer - or illnesses - are visible.” Just this summer, she hiked for miles at scout camp and trekked around Michigan, seemingly healthy on the outside, even while carrying an invisible battle within. She is honest not only about the frustration, the anger, and the fatigue, but also about the grace of God that keeps her grounded. “God is good,” she reminds us. “He hears my cries, my anger, my frustration, and still He wraps me in His arms and loves me.”

Lori’s story is a reminder that faith doesn’t erase suffering, but it does transform it. It gives us strength to face the unthinkable, hope when fear feels overwhelming, and community when isolation tries to take hold.

For me, Lori’s journey is personal. She is not just a “friend from long ago,” but a sister of the heart whose witness inspires me daily. Though our paths don’t cross often, every message, every update, every shared prayer ties us together across the miles. I pray for her, by name, at the Consecration of Holy Eucharist without fail, knowing that at that moment, Heaven and Earth are as close as they ever are, and the Communion of Saints is right there.

I share Lori’s story not only to honor her courage but to remind us all: be kind. You never know what battles someone else is fighting, especially when those battles are invisible. Check in on one another. Offer support. Love one another because that is what we are called to do.

Please join me in keeping Lori and her family in your prayers. Pray for strength on the hard days, for wisdom for her doctors, for moments of joy in the midst of struggle, and for the unshakable peace that only God can provide.

Lori, my dear friend, you are not alone. You are deeply loved.