This article includes two perspectives, Christian and Muslim. Late last year, this Christian, Gregory Mox, noticed how the health of this Muslim, Eric Rackard, had sharply declined. Settling into my desk-nesting routine before class one day, I noticed that Rackard wore an eyepatch and lobbed a question his way: was he going for Anthony Hopkins as Marvel’s Odin, or Samuel L. Jackson as Marvel’s Nick Fury? Instead of a witty retort, I received a vague smile and a half-hearted wave. Suddenly concerned, I got up and inquired more closely.  So began my part in saving his life.

The Holy Spirit moved me. I report here my theophany. I invite others to report theirs.

Directly after the next CPI graduation, I approached the Director of the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC), Heidi Washington, in Room 19 of the Handlon Campus. The conversation which followed remains the strangest I have ever had, because I kept myself out of the Holy Spirit’s way and let the words flow. I sympathized with the director’s efforts for reform, expressed my hope for her success, thanked her for her kind words at the ceremony and then explained my worries for Rackard’s health. After detailing the symptoms and his accelerating decline, I introduced the two of them. Then I got out of the way, feeling strongly that my part was done. I backed off and let the director talk to Rackard, though I hovered nearby in polite anxiousness.

Allow me to back off again, and let Rackard write to you: 

I remember well the day Mox writes about, because I wanted to answer him with, “Neither, I’m going full Johnny Depp ‘Pirates of the Caribbean!’” and then hit my swashbuckling stance, but all I could do was smile a little bit. I was losing vision in my left eye and the throbbing pain in my head was unbearable. It had been this way for months. My problems started back in January of 2024. One day I was walking outside, and what felt like lightning went through my brain. The tremendous pain was gut-wrenching, and it took everything I had to make it to the tree that I hoped would keep me from falling to the ground. I made it, and I clung to that tree while riding the lightning-rod of pain, which seemed to match my heartbeat. The pain in my head continued throughout my days, week after week. Then came the uncontrollable vomiting, followed shortly by disgraceful urinating on myself. 

I was in constant pain and sought medical attention on several occasions, without much success. Eventually, one nurse gave me an eyepatch to help keep my eye closed because, by this time, vision loss had become another symptom. By May of 2024, I was going blind, constantly urinating on myself, passing out, vomiting everywhere and nursing a never-ending monster of a headache! In my mind, there was nothing I could do but suffer through and hope that one day it would all just go away. I had sought medical attention from the people who were supposed to provide it; what else could I do? I figured, if I could just hold on until after graduation, I could take a break and things would get better. Graduation came, and with it, hope. 

To fully grasp what happened next, you have to understand the kind of men Mox and I are. I usually suffer from toxic masculinity. Mentalities like, “If it hurts, fight through it,” and “If it bleeds, rub dirt on it,” are what I’m referring to, so whenever people would ask, “Are you alright?” I would say, “Yeah, everything is okay, just got a bit of a headache.” I would not approach anyone — outside of the medical staff who had already let me down — complaining about my health problems. Mox is the kind of guy who will take you for your word, even though all the signs may tell a different story. Not that he doesn’t care — he just trusts you to do what you feel is right for yourself. However, after graduation, something moved him to speak to Director Washington on my behalf. He would say it was the Holy Spirit, I would say it was the Triune Allah, but what we choose to call Him does not matter. 

I spoke briefly with Director Washington, who became genuinely concerned with the state of my health, and she promised to come back that Tuesday with her doctors to see what was going on with me. She kept that promise. A matter of minutes after meeting with her doctors, I was riding in the back of an ambulance. The day after, I had brain surgery. There is so much more to this story that I want to share, but, for now, I just want to give thanks to Mox, Director Washington, and everybody who prayed for me and thought of me enough to step up when I couldn’t or wouldn’t. All Praises due to the great God and the Holy Spirit! 

At the Summer Convocation, we all met again.  I (Mox) told Director Washington, “Thank you for saving my friend’s life. God bless you.”