There are days when the Lord speaks through Scripture, and there are days when He speaks through people He places in our path. Today was one of those days. I had coffee with an amazing friend of mine, Frank McEleny, and I left that conversation changed.
I could listen to Frank talk all day, partly because of his rich Scottish accent, but far more because of the depth of wisdom behind his words. He carries a rare combination of humility, historical understanding, biblical knowledge, and spiritual maturity. Sitting across from him, I felt like a spiritual child, not in a condemning way, but in the way a student feels when sitting under a gifted teacher. He has lived a remarkable life, and the Lord has clearly refined him through both joy and hardship. Some people inform you, but others sharpen you. Frank did something even deeper—he helped expose things in my own heart I had not fully seen.
I originally went into our meeting thinking this would become an interview for a podcast. I had envisioned recording a meaningful conversation and perhaps turning it into something for ministry. But God had another purpose. Instead of producing content, the conversation produced conviction. I realized something difficult but freeing: I may have been forcing a version of ministry God never asked me to manufacture.
For some time, I have wrestled with whether I am cut out for podcasting at all. But the deeper issue was not the format—it was the motive. I had been trying to make something happen, trying to build, trying to be noticed, trying to gain traction, trying to make the mission look successful. And in all that striving, I was moving faster than I was listening. Scripture says, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). Stillness is hard when you want results, but ministry was never meant to be forced. It is meant to flow from obedience.
During our conversation, the Lord gently showed me something painful. I had begun focusing on myself again. I was comparing my reach to others, comparing audiences, quietly wanting affirmation for what I was doing. Even when the mission itself seemed noble, hidden beneath it were selfish motives. That realization humbled me. Jesus said, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). My heart had drifted toward outcomes. I wanted growth I could measure, fruit I could point to, evidence that what I was doing mattered. But kingdom work does not belong to me. It belongs to God. As Psalms reminds us, “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it” (Psalm 127:1). I had been laboring. God was asking me to surrender.
One example we discussed hit me deeply. I have worked hard—sometimes to the point of frustration—to make my website meet every standard, optimize every page, satisfy search engines, improve SEO, and make everything perform. There is wisdom in stewardship, and I still believe that. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like me. It began feeling manufactured. And through this conversation, God brought me back to what I knew in the beginning: if only one person is helped, it matters. One hurting heart matters. One soul encouraged matters. One life pointed to Christ matters.
Jesus left the ninety-nine for one. Gospel of Luke tells us, “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine… until he finds it?” (Luke 15:4). That is the heart of ministry. Not numbers. Not recognition. Faithfulness.
Another beautiful insight came when we talked about music and message. I have spent time wondering whether music, podcasting, coffee ministry, websites, or content formats were the right vehicle. But Frank reminded me of something profound: the power is not in the vehicle, but in the truth it carries. Consider the songs in Psalms. They were originally sung, yet the melodies are largely gone. The words remain. And those words have endured through generations because truth outlives performance.
That struck me deeply. It is not about whether the music sounds perfect. It is not about whether a podcast sounds polished. It is not about whether content goes viral. It is about whether the words carry life. Jesus said, “The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life” (John 6:63). That changes everything. The mission is not performance. It is truth.
I left that conversation with peace on my heart, not because all my questions were answered, but because God reset my direction. There is a holy kind of repentance that does not crush you—it frees you. It strips away striving, silences comparison, and brings you back to simplicity. Love God. Serve Him. Speak truth. Leave outcomes to Him. That is enough.
Paul wrote, “I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase” (1 Corinthians 3:6). I do not have to force increase. I only have to plant faithfully. That realization felt like exhaling.
Today was not just a conversation. It was a spiritual reset. A reminder that ministry cannot be driven by ego, that calling cannot be sustained by ambition, and that fruit cannot be manufactured through striving. God does not need my plans nearly as much as He wants my surrender.
And perhaps that is where some of us are today. Maybe you have been forcing what God wants you to release. Maybe you have been chasing recognition instead of obedience. Maybe you have been measuring fruit when God is asking for faithfulness. Friend, let Him redirect you. His interruptions are often His mercy.
I thank Jesus for placing Frank McEleny in my path. I thank Him for correction. I thank Him for grace. And I thank Him that He still speaks when we have been moving too fast to listen.
💭 Reflection
Have you been trying to force something God has asked you to surrender? Is your heart focused on being fruitful—or simply being faithful? Sometimes spiritual growth begins not when we achieve more, but when we finally let go. Ask the Lord where striving has replaced surrender. He may be trying to redirect you, not reject you.
🙏 Prayer
Lord Jesus, forgive me for the times I have pushed my own plans ahead of Your will. Cleanse my heart from selfish ambition, comparison, and the desire for recognition. Teach me to serve You faithfully, even if only one life is touched. Help me listen more, strive less, and trust Your timing completely. Thank You for godly friends who sharpen and correct me. Refocus my heart on what matters most—Your truth, Your path, and Your glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
IN Christ
Jeffrey Trester
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