Desire to Live Now
Introduction: My Testimony
Therefore He says, awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall shine (make day dawn)
upon you and give you light. Ephesians 5:14. AMP
Arise (from the depression and prostration in which circumstances have kept you-rise to a new life)!
Shine (be radiant with the glory of the Lord), for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has
risen upon you! Isaiah 60:1 AMP
“Wake Up”! Something inside of me was messing with my sleep. I didn’t have to go to
work that morning and all I wanted to do was sleep. The bed was so comfy and warm. The
covers were over my head so I wasn’t bothered with the light of day that filled the room. Oh no,
I’m awake. Once that happens the aches and pains begin to howl and my full bladder also begins
to throb. No position I lay in was comfortable anymore. The need for pain medications and a full
bladder will get you out of bed when nothing else will.
As I began to stir so did my adoring entourage. My dog who was a blonde and white
sheltie mix and the ghetto boys Hootie and Stripedy my cats. Hootie was an all-black, green eyed
tom and his brother from the same mother, Stripedy, who was a green eyed, grey and black
striped cat with white socks on his feet. I called them the ghetto boys because they were two
feral kittens I attempted to turn into house cats. Even though they were just a few weeks old
when I found them, they kept a feral streak about them and never really adjusted to staying in the
house unless it was to eat and sleep.
My entourage remained in the bed stretching and yawning. I saw Fred trying to sneak a
sniff of Hootie’s behind and I quickly corrected him. “None of that, Fred. Let’s all get along.”
The sound of my urinating drew the cats to me in the bathroom. “Perverts”. I called them.
They acted like it was imperative that they were with me in the bathroom. Hootie would rub on
my legs with his long body. Stripedy would play in the tub and drink from the leaky faucet.
Flushing the toilet sent the cats scurrying away. I washed my hands and began gathering my
medications out of the medicine cabinet. I felt ridiculous considering I had been miraculously
healed a year before.
A year ago, I was suffering frequent flare ups from a chronic lung disease called
Sarcoidosis. I had developed multiple nodules on my right lung that my pulmonologist suspected
was something other than the sarcoidosis. During this time, I frequently caught pneumonia, I
could hardly walk across the floor without being severely short of breath. I was always coughing.
Chest pain was common with the slightest exertion. With a stress test, it was proven it wasn’t my
heart. My pulmonologist recommended that I see a surgeon to have the nodules biopsied to
determine what they were. He told me this on a Friday. I was to go to an assessment on the
following Tuesday. My pulmonologist also told me that I could just do medical management and
observation if I wanted to. I knew better and agreed to go to the appointment.
On Sunday, I went to church. I hadn’t been able to go to church much because of my
illness. I still worked part time and that took everything I had in me. The reason I went to church
wasn’t because of my situation, but because my brother, Matthew, had called me and said he was
taking me and my son Xavier to church and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. I didn’t argue.
I felt better just being at church around friends, listening to the music. The word Pastor
gave was great as usual. At altar call I stood right up. My son and brother helped me to the front
and stood with me. Pastor oiled my forehead and asked what I needed him to touch and agree
with in prayer. I told him that I had nodules in my lungs. I could see the confusion in Pastor’s
face. I told him that I have a problem with my lungs. He understood and began to pray for me. In
my head I also prayed. I didn’t pray for heeling, I prayed that with any time I had left on this
earth, whatever that may be, I prayed that it was no longer mine but God’s to do with what He
willed. I almost fainted from sudden dizziness so my brother and my son helped me back to my
seat. Soon I went home and as my mother use to put it “I took to bed”. I hadn’t slept so well in so
long.
The next day, I managed to go to work without much complaint from my body. I worked
at a hospital as a nurse. When I saw my pulmonologist at work that day, I told him that I choose
to just do medical management and observation. He voiced his concerns about what could
possibly be going on with my lungs but I was determined that I was fine. He convinced me to go
ahead with the CT scan and blood work on Tuesday anyway with a Friday follow up
appointment.
Friday my husband and I arrived at the appointment expecting gloom and doom. Instead
my pulmonologist was in his usual cheerful mood. He told us that nothing was found on the
tests. The blood work was good and the CT scan showed no nodules at all. It didn’t even show
my usual enlarged lymph nodes in my lungs that is usually seen because of my Sarcoidosis. He
asked how I was feeling lately. I told him that I hadn’t had any chest pain, coughing or shortness
of breath all week.
“Well, it looks like your Sarc is in hiding again.” My pulmonologist said
“Sarc”? I said. “I’m thanking God it wasn’t cancer”. I said.
“Cancer wouldn’t just go away like that. The nodules had to be your Sarc acting up.” He
answered.
I praised God all the way home. I let the Pastors know the good news. I gave testimony at
church service. I felt born again.
Today, one year later, I’m standing in front of my mirror in my bathroom getting ready to
take a mountain of pills in my hand. My dog Fred was licking himself loudly on the floor behind
me and my cat Stripedy was crying loudly at the bedroom door to be let out. I put the pills down
on a paper towel and let all the animals out. I yelled for my son to put them all outside.
I closed the bedroom door and saw my phone on the bedside table. “Take a picture of
yourself.” Something told me. I laughed. I knew I looked horrible. I went back to the bathroom
but instead of picking up my pills I stared at myself in the mirror. Even though I had not had a
sign of my chronic illness in about a year. I was healed. What were all these medications? I took
medications for all the little ancillary issues that had nothing to do with sarcoidosis. For example,
I took medications for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, acid reflux, joint pain, anxiety,
depression, and neuropathy in my feet, seasonal allergies, nasal congestion, insomnia,
constipation, and aspirin a day to keep heart attacks away, a steroid to keep the big bad
sarcoidosis at bay. Did I forget the supplements? I took calcium, vitamin D, fish oil, a probiotic,
multivitamin and a shot of 5 hour energy so I could keep moving.
“Who is that?” A voice asked me.
“It’s me.” I said out loud. It felt like someone else was there with me but I was indeed
alone. It was confusing and strange to me. I was hoping I wasn’t going crazy.
“Ok. If you say so.” The voice said in response.
“If I say so? What does that mean?” I responded to the image in the mirror. I went and
got my phone and took the picture. I then sat on the bed and stared at the picture in my phone. “If
I say so?” I said again to myself. “If I say so?!” I could only stare at the image. “If I say so? Dear
God. You mean I am this way because I say so?” No answer. “God, am I making all this so?” No
answer.
Before Selfie: Tracey Mixon
I came to a realization. It was like a light turned on in my head and showed me something
that had been there all the long but hidden in the dark. I was going through a ritual of being sick.
I wasn’t really sick at all. I had been healed. Why was I living like this even though I was
miserable? Being sick was all I knew. I was raised around women who suffered chronic illness
and died young. My mother died at 56 years old from complications involving an autoimmune
disease. I had problems most of my adult life with health issues and was finally diagnosed in my
late thirties (after my mother’s death) with sarcoidosis. This was the lifestyle I knew. The ritual I
understood. The game I knew all the rules to and could play well.
“Because I say so, huh. No longer. I no long say so.” I said talking to the picture on the
phone. At that moment I decided to live a lifestyle of a healthy person. While God took care of
the inside, I began taking care of the outside. I abandoned this lifestyle of chronic illness. I didn’t
just walk away, I ran for my life. I left everything behind including my family and friends. I kept
my promise to God and began devoting my life to Him. In less than a year, I no longer looked,
acted nor felt like the person in the picture I took that day. It was like I had awakened from a
nightmare. Awakened by a voice from inside of me that had the power to save as long as I had
the courage to listen and act.
After Selfie: Tracey Mixon 60
days later.
1 year later: Tracey Mixon.