Stop Stealing the Struggle: A Word to Christian Sports Parents
It’s my 10 year old son’s third season of youth football and he is sitting on the sidelines at practice. The coach calls for a sub and points at one of the kids on the sidelines to come and run the rep. And then the coach calls for another sub. This process repeats itself for close to thirty minutes. But my son never gets called on to the field. I’m sitting in a lawn chair next to a bunch of other parents and silently stewing. The kids are in 5th grade, how hard is it to get them all on the field…at practice? As the season continues, this becomes a trend. The coaches are trying their best, but for all of their strengths, getting kids reps (even at practice) is not one of them. And I’m left wondering, what’s my role in all of this? Do I talk to the coach? Is there something in this for Judah to learn? Does he need to talk to the coach? How do I help him have that conversation? Should I be ready to step in if necessary?
If you’ve spent any time as a parent in youth sports, you’ve probably experienced similar moments wondering when to step in. Your child strikes out, misses the shot, gets beat on defense, or sits the bench longer than they hoped. And as you watch from the sideline, you feel it too. You’re frustrated. And maybe even…a little embarrassed. All of this leads to a tipping point. Because, of course, we can't just sit there and watch it happen.
So, for numerous reasons (we love them, want to help them, protect them, make them better), we step in. But there’s a question Christian sports parents must wrestle with—especially in today’s youth sports environment: Are we helping our kids grow, or are we accidentally stealing the struggle God might be using to shape them?
The Butterfly Problem
In the book Zorba the Greek, Zorba comes across a butterfly striving to escape a cocoon in the bark of a tree. Curious, he watches as the butterfly painstakingly enlarges a hole in the case, attempting to enter a new world.
As the butterfly struggles and strives to get out, Zorba grows impatient, and realizes he can make the butterfly's quest easier by simply using his breath to warm the casing. Why let the butterfly struggle for hours when he could so easily end the battle and set him free? So he successfully opens the case for the butterfly, removing the obstacle, and now happily holds it in his hand. To his horror, the butterfly dies a few seconds later.
Though he was trying to help, Zorba later realizes it’s the process of struggling through the hole that pushes fluid into the new butterfly’s wings. With this crucial strengthening step skipped, the butterfly enters the real world incapable of surviving. Short-circuiting the struggle left the butterfly vulnerable, weak, and ultimately malformed. Patiently enduring the discomfort of the challenge produces strength, resiliency, and capacity for life. He realizes that experiencing and overcoming this stressful way of entering the world is key to its survival.
Zorba thought he was helping. But the struggle inside the cocoon was actually necessary..
In other words: The struggle was the formation.
Though we often interpret it as brokenness, part of the beauty of youth sports is that it consistently produces “cocoon moments” like this every season. The question is whether we will allow the struggle—or remove it too quickly.
The Youth Sports Rescue Culture
Within the Youth Sports Industrial Complex (YSIC), removing the struggle is easier than ever. If a coach is too hard, switch teams. If playing time is low, find a new program. If a teammate causes tension, leave the environment. If practices feel overwhelming, maybe the sport “isn’t a good fit.”
To be clear, sometimes those decisions are wise. Embedded within the YSIC are unhealthy coaches, toxic teams, and league cultures that hurt our kids more than they offer a formative space for growth. And Christian parents should never feel obligated to leave their kids in harmful situations. But here’s the tension: Not every struggle is harmful.
Some struggles are actually where growth happens. Again, if we remove every obstacle our kids encounter, we may unintentionally remove the very experiences that develop perseverance, resilience, and faith. And perseverance is not optional in the Christian life.
Jesus said plainly:
“In this world you will have trouble.” (John 16:33)
Not might. Not occasionally.
Will.
Trouble is part of life in a broken world. It’s also part of how God forms us.
The Formation God Wants
One of the clearest passages about spiritual growth in the Bible comes from Romans 5:
“We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” (Romans 5:3–4)
Notice the progression.
Suffering produces perseverance.
Perseverance produces character.
Character produces hope.
God often uses hardship as the training ground for deeper faith and maturity. And because sport is life with the volume cranked up to ten, you can imagine how He might view the athletic space as a greenhouse for growth. Sports create a steady stream of small hardships that God might use to strengthen the soul of His image bearers:
A tough practice.
A frustrating loss.
A slump in performance.
A conflict with teammates.
A coach who expects more than your child thought possible.
Now, none of those moments are life-ending. But because we make sport feel bigger than it should be, our kids experience these moments at a deep and profound level. This makes them powerful opportunities for formation! If a child learns to persevere in those moments—while trusting God, listening to wise guidance, and growing in character—that lesson will follow them long after their sports career ends. But if they learn that every discomfort should be removed immediately, they will carry that reflex into adulthood.
Play the Role of a Spotter
Imagine your child attempting a bench press and you’re spotting them. What does a spotter do? They stand close. They’re attentive. Ready if needed, but only if the weight becomes overwhelming. But if you grab the bar before they attempt the lift, they never discover what their muscles can actually do. They never feel the resistance or experience the moment when they push past their perceived limits.
In other words, they never grow stronger.
The goal of a spotter is not to remove effort, but to prevent injury. We sometimes confuse the two. And by rushing in too early to help (most of the time, out of good intentions), we unintentionally rob them of the development that struggle produces.
So how do Christian parents know when to step in—and when to step back? Here are three helpful questions to ask that will help us slow down and move from reacting to discerning:
Is this harmful, or just hard? There’s a difference between an abusive or toxic environment and a demanding one.
Is this temporary discomfort or long-term damage? Short-term struggle can produce growth. Chronic harm requires intervention.
What might God be teaching here? Instead of immediately asking how to remove the problem, ask what formation might be happening through it.
Putting this into Practice
When your child comes home frustrated after practice or a game, resist the urge to solve everything immediately. Instead, coach them through the moment by asking questions like:
“What do you think you can control here?”
“What might perseverance look like in this situation?”
“What do you think God might be teaching you right now?”
These conversations help children develop ownership of their responses and reframe the struggle. They begin to see struggles not as emergencies—but as opportunities for growth.
And when they do overcome a hard moment, such as working through a conflict, pushing through a tough practice, or recovering from a bad game—that experience becomes deeply formative. With God’s grace and leading (and our patience to let them push through hard moments) they learn something powerful: “I can handle hard things.”
Why This Matters for Faith
Ultimately, this conversation isn’t just about sports. It’s about discipleship. Following Jesus requires perseverance. In our culture that celebrates and enables quick fixes and life hacks, we desperately need a faith that endures through disappointment, failure, waiting, and uncertainty.
If a child learns to trust God only when life feels easy, we risk raising them in a shallow vision of faith. But if they learn to trust Him through difficulty—through the small struggles of sports, school, and relationships—we best position them, again, by God’s grace, to grow a faith with deep roots.
As James writes:
“Consider it pure joy… whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” (James 1:2–3)
Parents, perseverance is one of the pathways to joy.
Stay Close—But Let Them Struggle
Sometimes the most loving thing we can do for them (even though it may be the hardest for us) is stand nearby while our kids wrestle with something difficult. The healthy middle ground in between rescuing them and abandoning them is us being present with them in it. It’s staying close enough for them to see us cheering them on, even as they struggle.
Because just like the butterfly, sometimes the very struggle we want to remove is the one God is using to strengthen their wings.
And one day, when they face challenges far bigger than youth sports, they will be grateful that they learned how to fly—because we learned how to let them struggle.
