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It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?
Hebrews 12:7
Reflect
The Olympics have given us some incredible performances over the years. But some of the athletes we remember most aren’t remembered simply because they won. They’re remembered because of what they endured along the way.
In 1976, Japanese gymnast Shun Fujimoto injured his right knee during his floor exercise in the team competition. He didn’t want to let his team down, so he continued to compete in the next event, the pommel horse, where he scored a respectable 9.5. With his knee even more injured, he continued to the rings, where he put together a near-flawless routine.
Dismounting from rings nearly eight feet above the floor, Fujimoto somehow stuck the landing despite the tremendous pain in his knee. He scored a 9.7. He was too injured to continue competing, but his performance helped inspire his teammates, who went on to win the team gold medal.
Twenty years later in Atlanta, Kerri Strug had her own moment of bravery. At the end of the women’s team competition, Strug and her coaches believed the Americans needed one more successful vault to secure the gold medal. Unfortunately, on her first attempt, she came up short on the landing and badly injured her ankle.
Her coach, Bela Károlyi, told her they needed her to try again, so Strug somehow summoned enough strength and courage to sprint down the runway and execute another vault. She landed it, immediately lifting her injured foot before saluting the judges and collapsing to the mat. Her score of 9.712 helped assure the American women’s gymnastics team its first Olympic team gold medal.
Winning championships while severely injured might be rare, but in sports it’s fairly common to see athletes playing through some amount of pain. There are always athletes wearing braces, bandages or strips of brightly colored Kinesio tape while trying to stay in the game. One of my favorite football players, former Dallas Cowboys quarterback Roger Staubach, once said, “If you are not playing hurt, you are not really playing.”
My all-time hero definitely played hurt.
Jesus Christ endured rejection from many of His own people. He was misunderstood even by people close to Him and falsely accused by religious leaders. He was mocked, beaten and eventually nailed to a cross. Worse than the physical suffering, He carried something that wasn’t His at all — your sin and mine.
To say Jesus “played hurt” is a gross understatement.
That’s why it boggles my mind when I hear people suggest that following God somehow guarantees us a comfortable life. Why should we expect to escape every difficulty when God’s own Son endured suffering beyond anything we can imagine?
The writer of Hebrews tells us to “consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.”
That’s the point.
God never promised that following Him would keep us from hurting. In fact, Hebrews tells us that some of the difficult things we endure can become part of God’s discipline and training in our lives. Discipline isn’t pleasant when we’re going through it. Neither is training. But both can produce something in us that comfort never could.
That doesn’t mean every painful thing that happens to us is God punishing us. Sometimes we suffer because of our own choices. Sometimes other people hurt us. Sometimes we live with sickness, disappointment or circumstances that simply come from living in a broken world. And playing hurt doesn’t mean refusing medical help, remaining in dangerous situations or pretending that pain doesn’t matter.
It means that pain doesn’t get to decide whether we continue trusting God.
C.S. Lewis wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.” Difficult times have a way of getting our attention. They can reveal our weaknesses, expose the things we’ve been depending on and remind us how desperately we need God.
We often appreciate blessings more deeply after we’ve experienced loss. We sometimes discover the strength of our faith only after that faith has been tested. That’s why the writer of Hebrews says, “For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”
Notice that last word. Trained.
Athletes aren’t trained by sitting comfortably on the couch. Training stretches muscles, tests endurance and pushes the body beyond what it thought it could handle. Spiritual training can work much the same way.
There will be days when following Jesus hurts. There will be seasons when you’re tired, disappointed, wounded or wondering whether you have enough strength to keep going.
Playing hurt doesn’t mean pretending that nothing hurts. It means refusing to let the hurt separate you from the One who carried your sin and suffering to the cross. We may not win every earthly contest. Every illness isn’t healed the way we want. Every relationship isn’t restored. Every disappointment doesn’t suddenly turn into a victory.
But pain doesn’t get the final word. Jesus does.
He endured the cross. He defeated death. And because He won the victory that matters most, everyone who belongs to Him shares in that victory.
So when life hurts, keep your eyes on Christ. You’re still in the game.
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Reflection copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt and Charles Fulton.
Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
