Michael R. Davison
August 21, 1947 - June 28, 2009

A memorial fund has been created in Mike’s memory:
Denver Hospice
501 South Cherry Street, Suite 700
Denver, Colorado 80246

Quietude is the state of being quiet, peaceful or tranquil. It’s what you notice when you first walk through their door. Mike and Sue Davison are there, and you admire the décor and comfort that invites you to sit down and stay awhile. But there is also something different. It’s not just that Mike is severely disabled. It’s not just how Sue sees to his needs. It’s love. It’s the love of the great romances: Abelard and Heloise, Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Juliet. But this love will endure because the man and his wife love not only each other – they also love Christ.

Mike Davison wants people to see it: the difference in him that comes from trusting that God has a purpose in mind. Five years ago he was active as Director and General Manager of the government division of Canon USA. He was involved with the board of directors of his church, the USO Washington, DC, and of the Coalition of Government Procurement. Alongside his wife, Sue, Mike was mentoring young married couples and they spent their weekends riding on their Harley up and down the back roads of Virginia and Maryland.

What they didn’t know was that Mike was slowly being attacked by disease. “In 2005, the symptoms became more serious and progressed to the point where I had to resign from my job,” Mike says, “I had no choice. I took a sabbatical, moved back here to get healthy, and then I planned to go back to work.”

Then came the diagnosis: a progressive, debilitating neurological disorder called Multiple System Atrophy. The life expectancy is 6-10 years from the onset of symptoms. Mike’s symptoms began in 1998. Initially there was a lot of denial. “There’s going to be a discovery,” Mike believed. “There’s going to be a treatment. There’s going to be something.” He asked his doctor if he’d ever known or ever heard of anyone that had survived it. “He said no, none.”

In 2007 Mike went from a staggered walk, to one cane, to two canes, to a walker, a wheelchair, and then a powered chair. “In 2008,” Mike says, “I found myself in a specially modified chair for severe disabilities and under hospice care.”

Purpose

Today Mike is totally bedridden. He can’t move most of his body, or reposition himself in bed, or do much of anything physically. A power lift helps him get up for a few hours a day. Some days he can’t get up at all. But his mind remains sharp and he prays. “Waiting for Susie to get up, I have a lot of time to lie in bed and really talk to the Lord to determine what he had in mind with this disease. And he has revealed several things to me: spiritual things, things related to whether or not I could be healed. And I finally came to the conclusion that the Bible says it’s up to God.”

Mike is content knowing that God’s purpose for his life is no different today than it ever was. “When I worked for Canon, my purpose was to glorify our God in all that I did in my career. I was to reflect peace, joy, love and hope. Now I can’t move, but the purpose of my life is to honor God and allow him to use me in any way I can that will glorify him. So I still have the peace, I still have the joy, the love and hope. I thank the Lord for sustaining that – that he has given me the purpose of believing.”

Peace

People wonder how Mike can sustain that sense of peace. His answer? “It’s because I know as a certainty that when I die I’m going to heaven.”

He wasn’t always certain, however. “I was a 23-year-old paratrooper with a wife of three years and a five-month-old baby, and I received orders for Vietnam. What went through my head at the time was how difficult it was going to be. I married my wife and had a child, and it was my responsibility to love and protect and take care of them, and to leave them alone was a very difficult thing to do. But I was called to go to Vietnam, so the next summer I had to leave Sue and my baby at home.”

While serving in Southeast Asia, Mike heard the Gospel for the first time from some army chaplains. He subsequently gave his life to Christ and now Mike marvels at how God used Vietnam to prepare him for the situation of his life today. “I’m being called home, and my biggest concern is not myself, because I’m going to heaven. My biggest concern is leaving my wife, leaving her home alone to care for herself.”

Mike knows that he will see his wife again. “Since Susie has the Lord as her Savior as well, I’ll see her soon. And in terms of time, the Bible says it will be like the blink of an eye. So it gives me great hope to know that despite my condition, I will see Sue again. Most of my family, and most of my friends are Christians, and I will see them again. I know that for certain. How do I know for certain? The Bible tells me so.”

Paradise

Eternity is crucial to Mike. He reminds himself of it often. He contemplates it. Measures it. “We are so earthbound through our life, and I really struggle with that. I’ve heard so many times that our life is like a drop of water compared to the ocean’s depth, a grain of sand compared to all the grains of sand on the shores. But I really can’t understand that.”

So, God has given Mike a comparison of eternity and life expectancy to which he can relate, and it’s based on a 12-inch ruler. “The ruler is my life experience, and my eternal experience is a mile,” Mike explains. “It’s a poor example because eternity doesn’t really end there, but for my comparison each inch of the ruler equals 10 years of life. Some people live to be 60-years-old: 6 inches. Some people live to be 80-years-old: 8 inches. So here I am facing death at 60: about 6 inches. But in the end I’ve been given a mile, not just 6 inches. Those 6 inches in life are miniscule compared to all eternity.”

He wants people to know him by reputation as a man of integrity. “I pray that the Lord will give me the reputation for kindness, for patience, for forgiveness and faithfulness, for gentleness and for self-control. The Bible says those are the fruits of the spirit. I would pray that when my life comes to an end, those who knew me at church, and at work and at home, they would say that I have a reputation of those things.”

Fruits of the Spirit

Mike tires from our interview. Sitting next to her husband, Sue seamlessly continues his thoughts. “You do have that reputation,” she comforts him. “Mike is an unusual man. He is a great man of faith,” she says. “He is no different at home than he is at church. He is no different at work than he is at home. He’s a very gentle man. He does possess all the fruits of the spirit. He is a most Christ-like man.”

Sue knows that some people will think she’s biased. “But I’m not. We’ve been married almost 41 years and I have never seen him angry. There is not a day that passes that he does not thank me for caring for him, and is appreciative for anything anybody does for him. He’s not bitter, he’s not angry: he just knows that God is in this. We know where we’re going and whose hands we’re in. It makes it easier.”

Hope

With what the future is bringing, how can the Davisons possibly have hope? “You could live this way for a short time,” Sue says, “but for a long period of time, to face what Mike’s facing, that is only endured through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. People can’t do that for a long period of time. You just can’t. It’s just not humanly possible without the presence of the Holy Spirit in your life, without Jesus indwelling you. You just can’t work it up enough. Have enough emotions. Have enough will. Have enough strength. That is where the power of the Holy Spirit comes in.”

The Davisons have been learning that their ministry focus has changed from ministering to others to allowing others to minister to them. “It’s hard to receive,” Sue says, “but now we have to allow someone else to receive the blessing. It’s much easier to give, but people want to help.”

Mike and Sue have also benefited from their short membership at Cherry Hills. “We’re relatively new and haven’t been able to get involved in the church the way we’ve always been involved before,” Sue says. “But pastors have called and visited, and asked what the church can do. I think that is very unusual, and certainly we did not expect it. We have many friends and they call and check, and that’s the hands of the church.”

Still a Measure

There is still a measure, whether it is an inch or less, of the life Mike and Sue live together. Mike has defined integrity and honor and character by living well, and today he defines dying well. “My life would be meaningless if I lived the church talk for 58 years, and as soon as I get a diagnosis of a terminal illness, I fall apart – I lose hope. That would be devastating to my boys and their families, my friends, and all who know me,” he says. “It’s tough for people who live a long time with disabilities. But this life will be gone in a blink of an eye compared to the time we will spend with God in eternity! I pray daily that God will continue to reflect the peace and the joy in my life so people will recognize that there is something different. 1 Peter 3:15 says, ‘Always be prepared to give an answer for the hope that you have in Christ.’”

Sue encourages us to celebrate Jesus. “He wants us to have an abundant life,” she concludes. “Do not live in fear of what’s going to happen tomorrow because he will give you the grace and the strength to meet each new day. But you’ve got to stay close to him. The thing that we both have tried to share with others, and live in our own lives, is to love the Lord with all your heart, your soul, your mind and your strength, and then you will be equipped.”

Quietude stays with you as you walk out of the Davison home. The love between the man and woman who live there, and the love they have for their Savior, creates a state of spiritual quiet, a peace and tranquility, and a clear understanding of whom in their home makes the difference.