Do Not Let It Beat Me

In High School this could easily have referred to track and field. But it means something far more to me now. A few years ago my brother-in-law was diagnosed with ALS. Some of you may be familiar with this from "Tuesdays with Morrey". In a nutshell the patient has their muscles slowly shut down in random order and in random spurts, until, usually within 2-5 years, the patient dies from lack of breathing. Do I really know why this happened? I am beginning too, because despite what it has done to us, it has done a lot of things for us. And for the first time in my life, I really am beginning to understand what that means.
The Hunger Games is one of my favorite movies/books. I find myself having to defend the fact that it is about kids brutally killing one another for food/money/glory because of what the book is really trying to say. One of my favorite moments is when one of the characters, Peeta, tells the main character, Katniss, that even though he is about to enter an arena where he either dies or kills, there is one thing he will hold onto: himself. The government may have taken away many of his freedoms, it may be forcing him to enter into the arena, and it may have a lot to say about his life, but it cannot determine who he becomes. In short, they cannot beat him-for "they do not own [him]". No matter how ugly the situation gets, he will not fall into the trap of becoming hollow and cruel. I know we all wonder how we would be in extreme conditions, would we be the ones who gave up, the ones who became cruel, or would we rise to the occasion? And now I finally understand why that means so much to me, because it is what I have been praying for for a long time now.

Ever since I got home from my mission (which was this January), I have tried to come to terms with, Ben, my brother-in-law's-illness. In the mission field it was hard for it to seem real. When I left he had just been diagnosed and could still do most things pretty normally. Now, about all he can do is move his fingers, his legs, and his head. Even talking to hard and tiring, and frankly, I haven't known what to do. Part of me wants to stay distant, thinking it will be easier if I'm less attached. Part of me wants to be there every second and spend what time I have with him. Part of me is so scared that it is hard to be by him. Part of me is so grateful and hopeful that all I want to do is be by him. And all these parts of me have been pretty much an awful tug-o-war inside of me. But tonight, as I got home from work and sat in my kitchen thinking, I realized that this was what Peeta was talking about, and I asked myself, "are you really going to let this beat you?"
Then I realized, this is what it was like to be in a situation where you had to decide, and you had to decide quick. I always thought that it would be obvious when the time came, that it would be a huge crossroads, but until now, I wasn't even aware that that was where I was. No, I'm not in a war or a natural disaster or in a Hollywood zombie apocalypse where I am forced to become more human or more animal, but I am still in a place to choose. I, like Peeta, do not have to let ALS own me, define me, control me. I, like Peeta, can still show it and God and myself that it cannot change me for the worse, it cannot beat me, it cannot not make me what I don't want to be. And because I see that now, I have the strength to do it.
So watch out ALS, I will not let you beat me. And whoever you are, and whatever you are facing:

and do not let it beat you either.