From Paralympics to Purpose: What Sport Taught Me About Standing Firm

Before I started serving women, I was serving people with disabilities. I worked for an international sports organization that oversaw the Paralympic Games, not an easy task with so many layers of people, politics, cultures, and languages. At the time, this was my dream job. I got to combine my passion for the power of sport with serving a community that was so dear to my heart.

As a young woman without children or major responsibilities beyond caring for myself, it was ideal. I worked long hours, traveled the world, explored new cultures, and poured myself i

nto something I deeply believed in. I was educating Paralympians on how to excel not just on the field of play, but in life beyond sport. I was training teachers around the world on how to include children with disabilities in their classrooms. And I had a seat at the table with Ministers of Education and Sport, working to influence policy toward a more inclusive society.

The overall goal was simple but profound: to create a more inclusive world through Para sport. The Paralympic Games were the vehicle to something so much greater.

Do you know what a Paralympian is? It’s a person who has competed at the Paralympic Games. These are world-class athletes who can ski down the Alps blind, play ice hockey without the use of their legs, or smash a table tennis ball using a racket held in their mouth because they have no hands. They are awe-inspiring.

However, traveling and working internationally also exposed me to harsh realities: poverty, unemployment, and the deep hurt of being treated as “less than” because of a disability.

I’ll never forget one training I hosted in Germany. Unlike my usual travels, this one was close to home, just a bike ride down the Rhein River. We welcomed Paralympians from Egypt, Japan, Australia, Morocco, Kazakhstan, and many more countries. The training was going well; the group had bonded; and the energy was high. Then, one evening, a co-trainer pulled me aside.

He told me that one of the participants came from a very poor African country. His family and friends had urged him before leaving: “When you go to Germany, never come back. Pack everything you need into a single suitcase and don’t look back. There’s nothing for you here - no home, no food, no job, no future.”

It dawned on me - he was considering seeking asylum in Germany. My stomach turned. My thoughts spiraled: What does this mean for me? I chose the participants. I organized their visas. I booked their flights. Am I somehow responsible for what happens now?

That moment was sobering. Sport has incredible power to unite - I saw it firsthand in South Korea when North Korean athletes walked into the dining hall alongside delegations from around the world to share a meal together. That kind of unity doesn’t happen easily in “real life.” But sport doesn’t erase the brokenness of our world - the divisions, injustices, fears, and hard choices people face every day.

And isn’t that true beyond sport, too? In 2025, it feels like everything is polarized - black and white, us versus them. Yet when I look at Jesus, I see someone who broke through those divisions. He loved everyone. He may not have agreed with their choices, but He loved them unconditionally - no matter their race, politics, lifestyle, or bank account.

That kind of love isn’t easy for us. Judgment creeps in. Fear takes over. We slip into the mindset of “It’s not my problem.” Hate and fear swirl around us all the time - sometimes subtly, sometimes loudly.

So the question becomes: how will you resist it? How will you stand firm when fear and hate press in? How will you use your voice, not to tear down, but to build up?

The Bible reminds us:

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith…” — 1 Peter 5:8–9

Standing firm doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s as simple as choosing love over judgment, compassion over indifference, and courage over fear. It’s remembering that Christ in us is greater than the hate, division, or darkness around us.