Inspired by the OlympicsRead Time 9 min

I love the Olympics. In normal life, I’m not really into sports at all, but the moment the Olympic theme hits, I become a megafan.

When I was 3 years old, I was so captivated by the women’s gymnastics team that my mom made me a paper doll of Kerri Strug out of newspaper clippings. From the time I was 7 until I was 23, the games were dominated by Michael Phelps and his ease, his incredible skill and his unmistakable torso flinging upward into the universal sign of victory that made a deep impression on me.

Gymnastics and swimming have remained the main attractions for me in the Summer Olympics, but I love the whole thing. I don’t mean the whole thing is perfect and without flaws. But I love the whole experience. I love the way that the Olympics takes over the zeitgeist for a moment. I love that for two weeks the media hyperfocuses on the most heartwarming stories instead of the most shocking ones and that even car commercials during this season can be inspiring. It reminds me of the Christmas season a little in that, during both, there is an atmospheric shift that happens. The Olympics don’t do away with all the problems in the world, nor do they perfectly execute all the stated goals. They do, however, shift the focus of the world onto the simple and mind-boggling excellence that a human being is capable of achieving. They invite the whole world to come together in these games. The idea of the whole world coming together might feel a little slimy from overuse, but it’s actually still impossibly beautiful. It’s a tiny glimpse, however distant, of the hope of peace.

During the opening ceremony, the coverage repeatedly cut to the barge full of young American athletes chanting “USA! USA!” I realized with surprise that I had almost forgotten what it was like to feel excited about my country, and I felt a deep gratitude for the reminder. The polarization and dehumanization that seem to characterize this moment in history were not just set aside, they were replaced by a profound camaraderie and determination to humanize. It felt like this impossible — and joyful — bid for hope. For a moment, goodness instead of power is given center stage. I think that accounts for the atmospheric shift. During the Olympics, as during the Christmas season, we somehow all make an implicit agreement: during this time, at least, we put our focus on goodness.

I was only able to watch a relatively small portion of the competition (Peacock offered 5,000 hours of content). I watched most of the gymnastics, some swimming, some diving and some track and field. Within that scope, there were some wonderful moments: Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone dominating her events then giving glory to God, athletes congratulating their competitors as well as their teammates, and everything that Simone Biles does. My unexpected favorite, however, turned out to be the men’s team gymnastics final. Unlike the incredibly dominant women’s team, the men were in contention to fight for a bronze medal, not gold. In an interview, one of the men said the thing that would make their team stand out would be their team spirit. He was right. Every member of the team quickly won me over, but my favorite was Paul Juda. Watching him compete helped me understand how gymnastics actually can be a team sport. His routines had a lower difficulty than the stars of his team, Frederick Richard and Brody Malone. But Paul Juda would hit his routines cleanly and with such confidence and joy that it would visibly raise the morale of his teammates. Coverage would sometimes cut to him, encouraging them on the sidelines, and it seemed very clear that the way he set the tone truly helped the rest of his team to hit their more difficult routines. I was moved by his role. I was moved by the reality that in these physical contests, those with strength of mind and character particularly shine. And I was moved by the reminder that morale and inspiration and camaraderie matter. They’re not just a pleasant addition, they are a practical necessity for victory — whatever our particular struggle might be.

That, I suppose, is part of why the Olympics are so important to me. When the world decides to put goodness at center stage, when it invites the best athletes to show us what years of tireless work can achieve, and when the effort is made to treat every person with dignity and respect, it’s inspiring. And that inspiration matters.

I’ll never be an athlete. But watching the crowning achievement of dedication and sacrifice in pursuit of a dream is inspiring. It reminds me there is nothing more beautiful than a person doing the thing they were made to do. It reminds me that God gave all of us different gifts and talents, and that all of them are beautiful. The inspiration of the Olympics refreshes my perspective on the dreams I pursue. My goal isn’t the Olympics, but watching the Olympics reminds me that the daily grind I’m dragging myself through is only part of the story. Watching athletes compete in sports I’ll never play gives me real inspiration and encouragement to keep working hard at the things that are important to me.

And that inspiration matters.