Playgrounds were once designed to cause pain. Allow me to argue my thesis by bringing up slides. Slides used to be metal. They were burning hot in summer and frigidly cold in winter. That burning sensation searing its way through your pants or onto your bare leg was part of the enjoyment experience. The slides were high and long. They needed to be, so that you could build up adequate momentum to sail off dangerously when you reached the bottom. The slide emptied onto dirt or exposed tree roots, gravel if you went to an elite school. Anything softer would not have been nearly as satisfying. In addition, sometimes the weld on the sides of the metal slide could be a little abrasive or sharp in places. You learned to scootch back and forth, weaving left and right like a practiced bobsled driver, to avoid the places that could scratch you or rip a hole in your pants. But most of the fun was the war wounds. Playgrounds kept patch and bandage factories in business.

Now, contrast that with modern slides. Everything is fantastically molded plastic. Even the rivets are seamless. In the summer, the plastic stays well below 212 degrees; in the winter it gets nowhere near 32. Most slides are only six or eight feet tall—that way you can’t go fast enough to have fun hurt yourself. If for some reason, you do get going faster than you should, soft rubber mulch will pillow your landing painlessly. Slides don’t hurt anymore, which is why most children don’t like playgrounds.

Worse yet, soft playgrounds have had a devastating impact on missions. Formerly, playgrounds taught us to endure pain and even view it as part of the fun. Now we feel entitled to safety on playgrounds and, in fact, file a lawsuit if the playground proves otherwise. We have been sheltered, coddled, and protected from all hardship and pain—and sustained usefulness!

Okay! Enough is enough! Much of what I have written above is “tongue in cheek.” Obviously! Good parents don’t wish pain and hardship on their children! And we can be very thankful for safer playgrounds. But hopefully you catch the point I am trying to make: we have so removed challenge and difficulty from growing up that too many in the up-and-coming generations are not ready for the hardships that life in a fallen world will bring, not to mention the increased hardship when a believer chooses to obey Jesus’ command to take the Gospel to every creature and make disciples in every nation. Soft playgrounds don’t make for battle-ready soldiers.

So, how can you overcome the trauma of growing up on a modern playground? Build challenge—and the pain that goes with it—into your life. Find ways to push yourself. Be sensible, of course. But find something challenging and hard for you. Then, use the pain to push to the finish line. Recently, I was at a retreat center where the road was uphill all the way back to the entrance. I couldn’t run all the way to the top the first time without walking at intervals. So, I tackled it again until I could run all the way to the top. Needless self-pain inflicted? Absolutely! Intended for soul endurance in more crucial endeavors? Totally.

Think again of Paul’s words to his protegee, Timothy, in his final letter. Paul is both battle-weary and battle-hardened. He couches his advice in military language: “endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ” (2 Timothy 2:3). He then uses three metaphors to make his advice more practical and more concrete: a soldier (again), an athlete, and a farmer (vv. 4–6). Each of these three exemplifies hardness. In cryptic terms…

Soldier (v. 4): No extras. (Don’t entangle yourself.)

Athlete (v. 5): No shortcuts. (Obey the rules.)

Farmer (v. 6): Work hard. (The diligent farmer has fruit to eat and/or sell.)

Overcome the modern playground by implementing Paul’s threefold advice. Notice that Paul is offering this inspired advice to a young man whom he is urging to be a “partaker of the afflictions of the Gospel” (1:8). Without developed hardness, this young man will give way to his natural timidity and avoid the afflictions that gospel advance demands. The progress of missions then grinds to a halt or to a near standstill.

So, prepare for the hardship of missions as follows:

No extras! Trim your lifestyle. Shorten your want list. Find creative ways to do without. As my grandmother would say, make do or do without.

No shortcuts! You don’t win by breaking the rules. Stick to the Book even when culture objects. Preach the cross and the resurrection. Pursue peace and holiness.

Work hard! Do your best. Build skill. Try until you succeed. Enjoy work. Remember, in all labor there is profit, but none in laziness.

Overcome the modern playground with the prayer and expectation that God will put you on a heated battlefront where the eternal destiny of souls is at stake. Let’s not be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease while others fought to win the prize and sailed through bloody seas.

For over twenty years of my life, I have been connected with mission work in Southeast Asia. I love Southeast Asia: the people, the food, the way of life, the noises, the languages, even the harsh climate. I have written this rather satirical article as a heartfelt plea for Southeast Asia. I long for a new generation to embrace the challenge of living in and pushing the Gospel forward in Southeast Asia and to do so, paradoxically, loving it and enjoying every minute of it. And, when the going gets tough, taking the advice of my former missionary colleague, use the pain.