My name is Lori Engel. I’m 58, homebound in Oregon. I live completely alone with life-altering neurological injuries and disabilities that have reshaped every part of my world.

I grew up as a missionary child in Brazil, where faith, service, and compassion became the foundation of my life. As an adult, I carried that forward—serving six years as a missionary teacher in Taiwan, then eleven years as a chaplain, walking alongside people in illness, grief, crisis, and loss. Caring for others wasn’t just my work; it was my identity. The last two years of my career, I was the Director of Chaplain Services for a healthcare organization.

Prior to becoming a chaplain, I was an English teacher for almost two decades, teaching both in Taiwan and at universities in the U.S.

That path shifted profoundly starting in late 2006, when I sustained the first of multiple traumatic brain injuries and a toxic reaction to Cipro that damaged my nerves and muscles. As a result of a series of multiple injuries, I developed serious neurological conditions—including cerebellar damage, ataxia, polyneuropathy, spasticity, severe balance impairment, swallowing difficulties, and vision disturbances, to name a few. These affect my ability to walk, stand, use my arms consistently, regulate my nervous system, or handle basic daily tasks.

Despite the initial injuries, I continued working as a chaplain until 2015, pushing through pain and limitations to serve others, through God's grace and the aid of nutraceuticals. Additional neurological injuries in 2015 made it impossible to continue working, leaving me homebound ever since, unable to drive. Simple things most people take for granted—opening a package, standing at the sink, stepping outside, or even too much visual input—can overload my fragile system, causing loss of balance, neurological shutdown, or crushing exhaustion. Some days I can’t get out of bed. Others, I push through just to care for myself and my faithful dog Teddie, only to crash afterward.

Yet every day, I fight to heal and hold onto as much independence as possible. As my health allows, I write devotional pieces that integrate faith, neuroscience, and psychology—sharing insights on resilience, hope, and spiritual growth on social media. It’s a small but meaningful way I continue to give back and encourage others, even from home.

My lifeline is an intensive, carefully managed regimen: specialized therapies, targeted nutrition, and essential supplements that stabilize my brain, muscles, memory, emotions, and overall functioning. When I can stay consistent with these protocols, I feel more like myself—steadier, clearer, hopeful. When I can’t, everything declines quickly: neurologically, physically, and emotionally.

I live alone, with no family or friends nearby. I haven’t seen my family in 13 years, as they live on the East Coast and for the last 10-plus years I can't travel. I receive no family financial support. This isolation compounds the physical challenges, making Teddie—my constant companion, emotional anchor, and service companion in many ways—one of the biggest reasons I keep going, in addition to God's miraculous provision.

Because I’m disabled and homebound, my income is severely limited (SSDI- disability benefits), and the ongoing costs far exceed what I can cover. SSDI does not even cover rent. Supplements alone are expensive, not covered by Medicare, and I also need nutritious food tailored to my conditions, basic utilities, and care for Teddie.

I’m not asking for luxuries—only the basics that allow me to continue healing, stay safe at home, avoid further decline, and keep writing when possible.

Your monthly - or one-time - support will directly help cover:

• Essential neurological and immunological supplements to stabilize my system, and medical care not covered by Medicare.

• Food and daily living necessities

• Basic in-home support and utility expenses

• Veterinary care, food, and supplies for Teddie, my vital companion

• Unexpected critical needs that protect my independence and safety

Every gift—no matter the size—becomes part of this lifeline. It prevents eviction. It helps me get through the hardest days, maintain my regimen, hold onto hope for continued (even if gradual) improvement, and continue sharing devotionals when my health permits.

Sharing this campaign is also a huge gift. When you’re largely invisible due to homebound disability, profound isolation, and no nearby support network, awareness can make all the difference.

After a lifetime of caring for others, I now humbly need care myself. It’s been a difficult shift, but I’m grateful for every act of kindness. God has never failed me during these long, lonely years.

It's been a long, agonizing road, but I still believe healing is possible. I still have determination. I still hold fast to faith that God can bring restoration, step by step—and use even my writing to touch lives. I will never stop trying.

Thank you for seeing me, for caring, and for helping carry what I cannot carry alone. Your support—financial, prayerful, or simply shared—means more than words can express.

With deepest gratitude and hope,

Lori Engel

“Out of suffering come the strongest souls. God's wounded often make His best

soldiers."

(With friends who brought Lori food in 2017)

In 2021, after wounds discovered under hair

2026

In 2009, as a chaplain.