Some stories arrive like a quiet knock on the heart, and once you open the door, they change you. That’s what happened when I sat down with Lesley and Adam McCollum of Hackleburg, Alabama. Their words, their faith, and their hope left me not only inspired but somehow lighter, as if they had shared part of their strength with me.

Lesley is just 33 years old, a pre-K teacher at Hackleburg Elementary, and until recently, she had never faced a serious health issue in her life. By all accounts, she was healthy, happy, and fully devoted to her students and her small-town community. But on September 11, 2025, her world turned upside down.

The diagnosis: B-Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

“It was chaos over the first few days,” Adam told me, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of memory. “It flipped our world upside down.”

In the face of fear, Lesley and Adam did what so many of us hope we’d do in moments of crisis — they turned to faith. Their anchor was Jeremiah 29:11, a verse that has carried countless souls through storms:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “Plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Lesley told me, “God has known about this all along. We have given it to God — we are trusting Him as we move forward.”

Those words struck me, not only for their strength but for the peace woven through them. By September 17, she had already begun chemotherapy, knowing it could stretch as long as a year. And yet, she spoke not with despair but with courage — the kind of courage that only comes when you truly believe your path is guided by something greater.

And she is not walking it alone. The Hackleburg community has risen around her like a shield. Her colleagues and students at Hackleburg Elementary have sent drawings and photos, many dressed in yellow — her favorite color — as a show of solidarity. Even the Hamilton Sonic marquee carried a message of encouragement:

“Lesley Strong.”

Small gestures, yes, but together they form a chorus of love, hope, and support.

That phrase — Lesley Strong — feels like more than a slogan. It’s a reflection of who she is: a teacher, a wife, a believer, and now, a fighter. Her faith doesn’t erase the fear or the exhaustion, but it transforms them. Where there could be panic, there is peace. Where there could be bitterness, there is trust.

As I listened to Adam speak of chaos, and Lesley speak of faith, I couldn’t help but think about what it means to trust so fully. To put every fear, every unanswered question, into God’s hands. To wake up each day knowing that the road is long but refusing to walk it in despair.

Lesley’s story reminds us all that faith doesn’t promise an easy journey — but it does promise that we will never walk it alone. She carries that promise into every chemo session, into every long night, into every uncertain tomorrow.

And for all of us who know her story now, she carries us, too — reminding us that even in the darkest hours, there can be light.

So let us stand with her. Let us wear yellow, pray hard, and send our love to Hackleburg. And let us never forget that courage isn’t measured in size or strength, but in the quiet, steady faith of a teacher who believes in a future written by God’s own hands.