The secret of resolve and resilience is to become comfortable with pain. There is no hope for a leader who resides in comfort and relaxation. We know this. Still, at times we too forget that sacrifice, not comfort, is at the heart of growth and progress.
When I recall my 30-hour shifts during my medical residency, I can still see in my mind the night a colleague and I went to drain fluids from the abdomen of a cirrhotic patient. My friend was sitting on the other side of the patient, near their midsection, holding the long needles used to drain fluids. As I was talking to the patient, I glanced over and saw my friend go into a full stupor. I thought he was about to lean over the bed and take a nap on the patient.
Progress demands sacrifice, and sacrifice is often painful. The very first time I spoke to a group about leadership, it was painful. . . and embarrassing. I did not do a good job. As passionate as I was about leadership, I did not understand the dynamics of capturing an audience’s attention. Even today, as I push forward, there is pain. As I write this article at 5:30am, I have been up since 2am, working through responsibilities on my plate from ministry to business. (It helps that I went to bed around 8pm while I was putting the kids to bed.)
The sort of pain that accompanies these challenges is the pain that makes you better. It’s the pain of falling off your bike when you’re seven or tumbling downhill when you’re learning how to ski. The pain that leads us to improvement are the sore muscles after a workout, the frustration of losing a game after giving it your all, and the sting of feedback that bruises your ego.
Resolve and resilience embrace this kind of pain. If we are not willing to go through the pain of growth, we will not accomplish much more or excel much higher than we are today.
Few in history have embodied resolve and resilience like the apostle Paul. Whether shipwrecked, beaten, imprisoned, or rejected, Paul pushed forward with unwavering purpose. He wrote letters of eternal wisdom while chained in dark, damp cells—his body bruised, but his spirit unshaken. He faced crowds who mocked him, churches that misunderstood him, and trials that tested him to the core. Yet Paul embraced this worthy kind of pain because he knew it was the cost of fulfilling his God-given mission. When he declared, “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:14), it was not from a place of ease but through wounds hard-won on the battlefield of faith.
And how about the strength of Jesus? From the moment He entered this broken world, He lived a life marked by humility, rejection, and ultimate sacrifice. Jesus endured the pain of misunderstanding—even from His own family and closest disciples. He faced the weariness of long days spent healing, teaching, and caring for crowds who often sought what He could give, not who He was. The Son of God knew the agony of solitude, praying alone in Gethsemane as His sweat became like drops of blood, wrestling with the weight of what was to come. Yet He resolved to move forward. He embraced the shame and pain of the cross—mocked, beaten, and pierced—not because He deserved it, but because He saw the joy set before Him (Hebrews 12:2). The pain Jesus endured was redemptive; it was the price of our salvation.
Take any person you consider to be successful in any sense, and I will show you the same brand of pain—pain that was met with resolve and resilience.
Christ-following leaders, if we want to grow in our character, particularly in the area of resolve and resilience, expect pain. Welcome it when it accompanies sacrificial progress, the endurance of long seasons of a righteous struggle, the cost of faithfulness to your calling, and the perseverance required to finish the good work God has begun in you.
