There are moments in life when you believe you’ve found the direction you’re supposed to go—when the vision feels clear, the mission feels defined, and the next steps seem obvious. For a while, you move forward with confidence, convinced that this is the path.
And then… something shifts.
Not in a loud, dramatic way. Not with a clear announcement or a sudden sign. But quietly, steadily, you begin to feel a tension between where you thought you were going and what is actually unfolding in front of you.
That’s where this journey has been.
I set out with the intention of building something through a podcast—creating conversations, sharing truth, speaking life into people through a microphone. On paper, it made sense. It aligned with the message. It seemed like the natural way to reach people in today’s world.
But the deeper I got into it, the more I realized something wasn’t lining up.
It wasn’t just that it was difficult—it was that it felt forced.
Podcasting, at least the way I envisioned it, requires a certain kind of presence. A comfort with being seen. A confidence in your voice, your delivery, your appearance. And if I’m being honest, that’s not where I naturally operate. I found myself overthinking everything—how I sounded, how I looked, how it would be received. Instead of focusing on the message, I was getting caught up in the mechanics of how I was presenting it.
And that’s a dangerous place to be.
Because when the method becomes the focus, the mission starts to fade.
There’s a difference between something being challenging because it’s growing you… and something feeling unnatural because it’s not where you’re supposed to be operating. And the more I leaned into podcasting, the more it felt like I was trying to force myself into a mold that didn’t quite fit.
At the same time, something else was happening.
Almost without realizing it, my focus began shifting toward the coffee side of things. What started as a supporting piece—just another part of the overall vision—began to take on a life of its own. Ideas were flowing. Energy was building. Progress was happening.
It didn’t feel forced.
It felt aligned.
And that’s when it started to click: maybe this isn’t a distraction… maybe this is direction.
Because when you step back and really look at it, coffee isn’t just a product—it’s a connection point. It’s an invitation. It creates space for people to slow down, to sit, to talk, to open up in ways they normally wouldn’t.
A microphone can reach people.
But a cup of coffee can meet them.
That’s a different kind of ministry.
And the more I thought about it, the more the vision began to expand—not into a studio, not into a polished production setup—but into something far more personal.
A coffee van.
Not just a business on wheels, but a mission in motion.
A way to take everything I’ve been building—the faith, the message, the heart behind it—and bring it directly to people, right where they are. No pressure. No performance. No need to “look the part” or “sound the part.”
Just real conversations. Real connection. Real moments.
There’s something powerful about that.
Because the truth is, not everyone is reached the same way. Some people will never tune into a podcast. Some people won’t sit down and read an article. But almost everyone will stop for a cup of coffee.
And in that moment—standing there, cup in hand, guard lowered—something real can happen.
A conversation can start.
A seed can be planted.
A life can be touched.
That’s what this shift is really about.
It’s not walking away from the mission—it’s carrying it differently.
And maybe even more effectively.
For a while, I wrestled with that. It felt like I was stepping back from something I had already committed to. Like I was somehow failing to follow through. But the more I prayed on it, the more I realized this wasn’t about quitting—it was about listening.
God doesn’t always keep us on the path we originally choose.
Sometimes, He redirects us to the path that will actually produce fruit.
And that’s what I’m seeing.
Not just in ideas, but in momentum. Not just in effort, but in results. There’s a clarity around this coffee journey that I didn’t feel before. A sense that this isn’t something I’m trying to force into existence, but something that’s already being opened in front of me.
And the coffee van… that’s where it all comes together.
It takes the mission off the screen and into the real world.
It removes the barrier between “content creator” and “conversation.”
It turns something digital into something tangible.
And maybe most importantly—it allows me to operate in a way that feels natural, not forced.
Because I don’t need to be the perfect speaker.
I don’t need to have the perfect voice.
I don’t need to look a certain way.
I just need to be willing to show up.
To serve a cup of coffee.
To start a conversation.
To be present.
That’s something I can do.
And that’s something God can use.
There’s a freedom that comes with that realization. A release from trying to meet expectations that were never really placed on me to begin with. A reminder that purpose isn’t about fitting into someone else’s model—it’s about walking in the lane God designed for you.
Right now, that lane doesn’t look like a podcast studio.
It looks like a coffee van.
It looks like early mornings, fresh roasts, and conversations with strangers who may not be strangers for long.
It looks like building something that serves people in a real, tangible way.
And through it all, it still carries the same mission:
To point people toward something greater.
Just one cup at a time.
💭 Reflection
Where in your life are you trying to force something that no longer feels aligned?
Is it possible that what feels like resistance is actually redirection?
Pay attention to where things begin to flow, where energy builds, and where purpose feels natural. That may be God guiding you toward a path you didn’t originally expect—but one that is exactly where you’re meant to be.
🙏 Prayer
Lord, thank You for guiding me even when I don’t fully understand the direction. Help me to trust You when the path changes and to follow where You are leading, not where I assumed I would go.
Give me clarity to recognize Your direction, courage to step into it, and humility to let go of what no longer fits.
Use what I build—wherever it goes—to reach people, to serve others, and to bring You glory.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Jeffrey Trester
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