More Than An Athlete: Breaking Free from Performance-Based Identity
“Hudson, can you help me move this couch?”
Silence.
“Hudson!”
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What’s up?”
My 15 year-old is at the stage of life where it’s cool (and apparently necessary) to wear headphones around the house, making normal conversation a challenging endeavor. He’s not trying to be rude. He likes music. I get it. But I have to remind him, often, that whatever he is listening to cannot be so loud that it prevents him from hearing everything else going on around him.
It’s a similar conversation I have with myself about performance based identity. Here me out…
I’m a disciple of Jesus. But over the last 35 years, I’ve also been discipled by a sports culture that reminds me over and over again that the most measurable form of my worth is a direct result of my latest performance. If I’m not careful, I easily drift into places where I find my worth and significance in what I do and how I perform.
The problem is not that I am a competitor. It’s that I have turned up the volume so loudly on what my performance produces that I neglect to hear greater truths being declared over me by God. I allow my identity that’s gained or lost through competition to drown out my identity in Christ. What if I turned the volume down on what everyone else is saying about me and spent more time listening to God’s version of who I am? What would I hear? Three things immediately come to mind.
God accepts me
As athletes, we live in a world governed by conditional acceptance. From a young age, we learn that our value is tied to our performance. It's a relentless pursuit of affection, attention, and admiration, creating immense pressure to constantly prove ourselves and strive for perfection. We're driven by the need for approval from coaches, parents, teammates, and fans, leaving us feeling inadequate, ashamed, and fearful when we fall short.
This exhausting cycle boils down to the world's formula for identity: Our performance + Others' opinions about us = Our identity. Even when we achieve acceptance, it remains transient, demanding to be earned again. And again.
But for Christian athletes, there's a profound truth that liberates us from this cycle: in Christ, we are accepted by God as a result of His grace toward us—never as a result of our performance. This is echoed in Romans 15:7, which encourages us to accept one another as Christ has accepted us. It’s also beautifully illustrated in Psalm 139, where David proclaims that we are both fearfully and wonderfully made, known intimately by God even before our birth.
Athlete, this means that our worth is not something we earn. It’s freely given. God's love for us is not based on our athletic achievements, our win-loss record, or how many accolades we accumulate. It’s not even based on our morality. It’s grounded in what He says is true about us.
This should bring freedom to how you approach your sport. When your identity is anchored in Christ, you can play from a position of acceptance, not for acceptance. This doesn't mean you stop striving for excellence or developing your God-given talents—quite the opposite.
When you're freed from the fear of failure and the incessant need for others' approval, you can pursue your sport with a passion and courage that truly maximizes your potential. Why? Because you're no longer playing to fill a void in your heart, but to worship God. The purpose of sport, born out of an identity of being accepted, is grounded in the truth that "You are His" instead of "You are the outcome of the last competition."
God is with me
I’m sitting under a tree in the middle of campus at midnight. We just arrived back from a track meet on the West Coast that went poorly—again. I’m stressed, worried that I’ll never push through this mental block. More than that, I just feel alone in all of it. I know my coaches care about me. But I also know that my performance (or lack of performance in this case) is something that could cost them their job.
Sports can sometimes feel like a lonely journey. The characters and circumstances may change, but the result feels similar. We all have teammates and coaches, yet deep inside, many of us experience a "competitive loneliness" sparked by various internal fears and insecurities. It feels like the only one who truly cares about the real you is the one looking back in the mirror. And it only gets worse when we’re injured or sidelined from the team and the community. Is there any place more lonely than the training room? Even outside of the training room, in the intense moments of competition, it's easy to feel the weight of responsibility solely on your shoulders, fearing that any mistake will be yours alone.
However, the powerful truth for Christian athletes is this: in Christ, you are never alone because His Spirit lives within you and is a constant presence with you, no matter what you feel or how you perform.
Hebrews 13:5 assures us that God will not leave us or forsake us. Ever.
Romans 8:38-39 declares that nothing—absolutely nothing—can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. This isn't just a comforting thought. It's a foundational truth about our identity.
Athlete, the Holy Spirit takes up residence in our hearts the moment we accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior. He is the ultimate training partner, present with you in every workout, every competition, every high, and every low.
Why is this great news? This indwelling presence of God means that even when you're physically alone, you are spiritually connected. You can turn to Him, honestly expressing your frustrations, fears, and disappointments, knowing that He can handle it all. This truth has a competitive application, too. It means you can play with God instead of primarily playing for Him.
This transforms your sport into an act of worship, a shared experience with the One who created you. And whatever the outcome, the Spirit’s presence keeps it all in perspective, allowing you to be disappointed in a loss and excited in a win, without losing sight of other eternal priorities.
Your identity as a child of God, always loved and never abandoned, becomes an anchor for your soul in every circumstance. Speaking of being anchored…
God anchors my hope
It’s my third season coaching youth football, and I’m well familiar with what’s about to happen. It’s still an early morning game in the fall and there is still dew on the grass. There will be a lot of fumbles. The cold weather means at least half the team will have little interest in tackling. And the refs are the same ones from last week who… let’s just say they are doing the best they can.
In spite of all that, I’m hopeful that the team will surprise me and we’ll rise above the circumstances. Sports have to be played to figure out what will happen. It’s an experience grounded in hope.
As athletes, we are people who hope. We hope for a win, a personal best, a scholarship, and a championship. But in the unpredictable world of sports, hope is often fragile. Injuries halt momentum, losses crush our spirits, and unmet expectations can lead to deep disappointment. When hope is anchored solely in these external circumstances, the ups and downs of sport can make life feel like an emotional rollercoaster, potentially even leading to bitterness or a loss of joy. It’s like anchoring a boat to a buoy—wherever the wind and waves take it, that’s the direction we go.
For the Christian athlete, however, our identity in Christ provides a steadfast, unwavering hope that transcends all earthly outcomes. David declares in the Psalms, "For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him" (Psalm 62:5 ESV). It’s a reminder that our deepest, most enduring hope comes directly from God. Paul takes it a step further in his letter to the Romans, stating, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Romans 15:13 ESV).
This biblical hope is not passive wishful thinking. It's an active trust in God's character and His promises, especially when circumstances suggest otherwise. It means that even an injury or a devastating setback can be an opportunity that strengthens our faith and deepens our hope in God.
Let’s be clear about what this means in sport. We can still hope for a great performance. We can hope that all of our training will pay off. We can even hope that the refs will give us a favorable call (or two!). But having a greater hope that’s anchored in God protects us from putting all of our chips at the center of the table of sports. That will always be a risky bet, inevitably leaving us bankrupt.
Anchoring our hope in God is an open-handed posture of prayer declaring, "I hope this goes well today, God, but let your will be done, not mine." That's a scary prayer. But it's a freeing one, too. Because it means our identity in Christ gives us an anchored hope that sport can't take away. Beyond that, when our hope is in Him, the pressure to perform should decrease!
How do we remember this stuff during competition? One way is to incorporate mantras into our self-talk. Even something as simple as “the scoreboard shifts, the Savior stays” can help you recall this truth even in the midst of intense competition.
Athlete, we can play fast and free, knowing that whatever happens on the scoreboard, our eternal destination and God's love for us remain unchanged.
What are we listening to?
We know the soundtrack of sport. And I am not suggesting that we turn it off completely. The truth is, part of our identity is that of an athlete. Just like part of our identity is that we are sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, students, etc. Our identity is a diversified and curated playlist of what we do, how we’re wired, what we like, how we relate to others—but most importantly, it’s what God says about us. What I am suggesting is that we crank up the volume on who God says we are so that His opinion is the main soundtrack we hear throughout the day.
How do we do that? We do the same thing we do whenever a new song comes out that we enjoy. We turn up the volume. We listen. And hit repeat. And repeat. Until we know it so well that we can sing the entire song.
Practically speaking, we need to remind ourselves throughout the entirety of the day that we are more than an athlete—that our truer identity is what God declares over us. It’s one of the reasons we published a free 30-day devotional on YouVersion about identity in Christ. We know how challenging it can be to understand what the whole “identity in Christ” means for us.
So, what you read above represents some of the content that’s available. The 30-day plan guides you through Scripture to discover who God says you are: fully loved, completely forgiven, created for a purpose, and secure in Him. Each day offers biblical encouragement, practical application to sports and life, and a reminder that your ultimate identity is not in your jersey, but in Jesus.
