Growing up, I lived for sports. School was made bearable by the promise of a pickup game of hockey, baseball or football after the final bell. Every day, if it bounced or rolled, we chased it. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better life.

After graduating from high school in Alberta in 1985, I enrolled in Bible college. To be honest, I didn’t come for the Bible, but for the hockey. After one semester, hockey was going well, but school wasn’t. One day the dean called me in. Since he was also my father, we met in the living room.

“I don’t think you should return second semester,” he said.

That was fine with me. I was no scholar.

That led me into the restaurant business and, in one of the best decisions of my life, I married Bev Wilson, a former classmate, and took a job as a chef. Perks of the job included taking time off on summer afternoons to perfect my golf game and the opportunity for schooling to upgrade my skills. Our son, Theoren, and daughter, Christina, arrived, and for the next 21 years we enjoyed life in the community where I grew up. We loved watching our kids grow and, in what seemed like no time, grandchildren began to arrive.

I had always been physically strong, so it seemed ironic to be stricken with a disease characterized by increasing weakness. MIKE OLVER

“You Have ALS”

But then my body began to let me down. First, it was the tingling in the left leg, then the twitching in the left arm. I consoled myself with the fact that there was no pain. But one day when my left foot wouldn’t respond to my brain’s command to lift and take a simple step forward in the dining hall, I tripped and fell heavily against a wall. Clearly something was very wrong.

The long search for answers began. But X-rays, bloodwork and ultrasounds all yielded nothing. It wasn’t until I went for a nerve and muscle test in Calgary that the mystery was solved.

On March 13, 2024, Bev and I sat silently in an office awaiting the verdict. The doctor entered and cast a nervous glance. There was no way to soften the blow.

Finally, he said, “You have ALS. Lou Gehrig’s disease.”

Difficult Prognosis

In an odd way, there was almost a sense of relief after so many months of not knowing. But the silent drive home was almost unbearable as we wondered how to tell our children. Tears flowed freely over the next weeks as we also began to share our new reality with other family and friends.

ALS is a neurological disease that slowly robs its victims of the ability to control voluntary movements. Nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord are affected, causing loss of muscle control, and muscles get weaker as more nerve cells die. I had always been physically strong, so it seemed ironic to be stricken with a disease characterized by increasing weakness.

We hadn’t realized, however, that ALS treats everyone differently. Simply put, it’s impossible to know exactly when and where the losses will be felt. At first, my left arm and leg lost strength, but I enjoyed the use of my right side. A year later, and I am relegated to my comfy recliner. My angel wife and numerous volunteers are the hands and feet and face of Jesus, caring for my every need.

Research into the disease holds promise, but there is no getting away from the fact that one day, sooner than I’d planned, I’ll be changing my address and meeting my Saviour face-to-face.

Living, Not Dying

Despite the difficult path ahead, I often remind myself of how blessed I am. Each new day brings reminders of the goodness and love of God.

Bev and I have seen others in absolute despair over a similar diagnosis, and there are certainly dark moments, days when I feel useless.

But I believe that the eternal hope we have and God’s constant loving presence in our lives have made it possible to deal with this situation in a positive way. A good friend advised us to live our lives intentionally and that is what we are choosing to do.

I’m not dying from ALS; I’m living with ALS.

“I’ve Got This”

In high school, I dreamed of a trip with my sweetheart, and, after the diagnosis, nothing stood in the way. We were reminded that relationships built throughout our lives and the precious memories stored up are priceless treasures that nothing can take away.

We visited places like Oklahoma, Montana and Ontario, with no idea how many would bless our socks off.

One highlight was a trip to Seattle, Washington, to watch my Toronto Blue Jays play the Seattle Mariners!

On one trip, in our haste to leave, I neglected to purchase American money. While visiting a friend, I mentioned I needed to get to a bank. When he learned why, he vanished, then returned with an envelope.

“We want you to have this,” he said, smiling. I stared wide-eyed at fives and tens. And twenties. And fifties and hundreds. To this day, I can’t talk about it without tears.

It was like God was saying, “I will never leave you, Mike. I’ve got this.”

Counting Our Blessings

Proverbs 18:22 says, “The man who finds a wife finds a treasure” (New Living Translation). How true. Bev has been God’s gift to me. At my side through all of this, there is very little that I can do now without her assistance.

Our children have showered us with their love and time. When I told a friend that our daughter and her husband were moving so they and the grandchildren could be near us, I broke down in tears.

I can’t begin to count the number of people who have told us they are praying for us. What a wonderful illustration to me of the incredible privilege of belonging to the family of God. Why would we not count our blessings?

On the Way

When Pastor Tim Keller received news that his cancer was terminal, he said, “I’m not suffering from anything that a good resurrection can’t fix.” I share his unshakeable hope. It is the greatest blessing of all. Yet hope can often take a backseat to the challenges and uncertainties of my condition.

As a young man, I valued strength and the ability to be active, never thinking that those days would come to such an end. Where do we turn when life leads us into a new season that we weren’t prepared for? Meaningful music and God’s promises have meant so much. Bev and I have both been drawn at different times to the words of Isaiah 41:10, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

Our strength fails. Yet, He is our strength. The way ahead is uncertain. Yet, He is our hope. We did not choose this journey, but one thing we do know is that we are held in God’s loving hands, and He will give enough light for the nex tstep.

Photos: Courtesy of Mike Olver

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