What an Unlikely Wrestling Missionary Taught Me About Sport
I once had a coworker who said, “No one goes to college thinking they’re going to become a missionary.”
I am often reminded of that phrase when I meet with students or share with coaches and churches what I do with Athletes in Action (AIA). It never crossed my mind that working with athletes, coaches, parents, and churches—using sport to help form people to look more like Jesus—could even be a real vocation until a summer in the mid-2000s.
In the summer of 2005, I had the opportunity to travel to Moldova and Russia to wrestle with AIA’s wrestling team. Our goal was to use wrestling to connect with people and share Jesus. We spent time interacting with orphans, visiting prisons, practicing, running camps, and competing everywhere we went. Nearly everything we did flowed out of relationships that had been built over many years by those already serving there—especially Stephen W. Barrett.
What I learned that summer set me on a new trajectory. I learned how big our God is and how He transcends cultures, languages, countries, and people groups in ways I never could have imagined. I learned that through sport, and particularly wrestling for me, God can be displayed to others through the technique, the training, the competition, and the relationships. And I started learning about the history of AIA wrestling and the people who have faithfully invested in it for decades.
One of the great gifts of that trip was being led, coached, and discipled by Stephen W. Barrett. God has uniquely wired Stephen to be a missionary to wrestlers across Central Asia, Russia, and Mongolia. He is fun, funny, deeply relational, and wise—a man who has loved and served the wrestling community for longer than I have been alive. And he was (or still is?) a very good wrestler. (If you want a funny story, watch comedian Greg Warren telling the true story of “Farmer Steve.”)
Thankfully, we can all get a glimpse into Stephen’s world and mindset by reading his autobiography, The Unlikely Missionary: Lessons Learned Along the Way. In it, Barrett tells a different kind of story—not the story of a spiritual superstar, and not the story of someone who felt uniquely qualified. Instead, it is the testimony of a man (and his wife) who often felt hesitant, inadequate, and unsure, yet chose obedience anyway.
Barrett’s journey into missionary work exposes something athletes and coaches desperately need to remember: God’s calling is not built on our resume. It is built on our willingness. And in a sports culture obsessed with proving ourselves, that truth is both freeing and unsettling.
What the Book Is About
The Unlikely Missionary is not a manual on how to become a missionary, nor is it a collection of dramatic success stories. It is the story of Barrett—his love for wrestling, the history and people he served, and the lessons he learned along the way. He invites readers into the slow, often uncomfortable process of learning to trust God in unfamiliar places and roles he never anticipated for himself.
Barrett shares his journey into cross-cultural ministry, marked by hesitation, self-doubt, and a persistent sense of inadequacy, yet also by an unwavering devotion to his calling to the people groups of the former Soviet Union. He does not present himself as especially gifted or strategically positioned; rather, he simply has a heart to bring the gospel to people who might not normally be interested in hearing it, but who are willing to listen because of wrestling.
In fact, much of the book is shaped by moments when he felt underprepared, unsure, and unlikely—culturally, relationally, and spiritually. Yet those moments become the very places where God does His deepest work.
Throughout the book, Barrett highlights several recurring themes:
God often calls people before they feel ready.
Obedience frequently comes before clarity.
Growth is rarely efficient or linear.
Knowing a people’s history shapes your heart for them.
And perhaps most importantly, God seems far more interested in shaping the missionary than in maximizing visible outcomes.
What the Book Does Well And What You Will Experience
One of the greatest strengths of the book is its humility. Barrett does not write as a hero looking back on spiritual victories; he writes as a learner. The most powerful moments are not when things go smoothly, but when they don’t. Cultural misunderstandings, personal limitations, and unmet expectations become the very instruments God uses for growth.
The book also reframes success. Instead of measurable impact, Barrett consistently points toward faithfulness. The question is not, “How impressive was the work?” but, “Was I obedient?” That shift is simple, but deeply challenging.
Because the book is rooted in missions, it does not directly address high-performance environments like elite sport. Yet precisely for that reason, it exposes how easily we confuse visibility with value, readiness with calling, and performance with faithfulness.
It’s also helpful to set expectations: this is a long book at over 400 pages. It’s filled with more than stories, including history, cultural background, and the development of sports ministry in the region. At times, it can feel almost like reading an anthropology book about the peoples of Central Asia.
Those aren’t negatives, but readers looking for a fast-paced collection of inspiring anecdotes may find it different than expected. Instead, this is a reflective book filled with lessons that actually connect deeply to the world of sport today.
What Sports People Can Learn
Reflecting on The Unlikely Missionary, there are three main themes sports people can learn from this book. These themes transcend role, sport, and age. Through them, Barrett challenges us to love God deeply within—and through—our specific context.
God Uses the Unlikely
Sport ranks people early and often. Depth charts, scholarships, awards, and statistics subtly communicate that value equals visibility. Barrett was a “hippie kid” from California who struggled in school and didn’t want to be a public speaker. He was a great wrestler, but almost everything else pointed to him never becoming a missionary.
But the kingdom of God operates differently.
In every program there are unlikely people:
The backup who brings daily energy
The injured senior mentoring freshmen
The assistant coach handling details
The team manager serving quietly
The parent praying faithfully
Feeling unlikely does not disqualify you from calling—it often positions you for dependence.
For athletes, influence is not tied to minutes played. For coaches, faithfulness is not defined by rankings. For ministries, impact cannot be limited to the most platformed players.
God has never been limited to obvious choices. Just look at Jesus.
2. Obedience Before Clarity
In today’s sports world, where everything is tracked and measured, Barrett repeatedly reminds us that stepping forward without full understanding is okay. Clarity often follows obedience.
Athletes and coaches want certainty—a defined role, predictable path, guaranteed outcome. But the Christian life rarely works that way.
Obedience in sport looks like:
Practicing hard in uncertain roles
Choosing integrity when shortcuts exist
Initiating reconciliation
Responding with humility after loss
God does not reveal the whole playbook. He invites trust in the next step.
3. Know Your Audience
Barrett approached people with curiosity. He studied culture, listened carefully, and sought understanding before instruction. The lesson for us through his example is simply stated but hard to practice: we must take our eyes off ourselves when we enter into athletic environments and be curious about those around us.
Shared uniforms do not equal shared understanding. Athletes carry family pressures, social expectations, and identity questions long before arriving on a team.
Christian missions requires cultural awareness:
Asking questions
Listening first
Learning what shapes teammates
Understanding generational pressures
Knowing the history
If you want to disciple a team, you must first understand the team.
The Unlikely in a Performance World
Looking back, that trip to Moldova and Russia changed more than my summer—it changed how I understood calling. What felt like a wrestling trip became an invitation into something far bigger than I realized at the time. I was stepping into a story that had already been unfolding long before I arrived.
The Unlikely Missionary helps us see that clearly. The book is not just Barrett’s story; it is a glimpse into the faithful work of men and women who quietly invested years of obedience so moments like mine could exist. Camps, relationships, conversations, and opportunities were not accidental—they were prepared through decades of unseen faithfulness.
In a sports culture built on exposure, evaluation, and achievement, this is a needed correction. God is not searching for the most impressive resume. He works through willingness and often through people who simply show up, stay faithful, and make a way for others to follow.
To the athlete, coach, or sport missionary, this book helps you see and believe that your locker room is a formative space. Your role is not accidental. Your setbacks are not meaningless. Your influence does not depend on your stat line.
You may not feel like the obvious choice to represent Christ in your sport.
But someone before you probably felt the same—and because they said yes, you now have the opportunity to say yes too.
The question is not whether you feel ready.
The question is whether you are willing even if you are an unlikely missionary.
