Most of the meaningful opportunities in my coaching practice haven’t come because I was out hustling. They came because someone I knew said, “Hey, you should talk to them.” That’s exactly what happened when my friend Steve told me, “You’re exactly what they need.” I didn’t see it. I didn’t know the organization. I didn’t know their world. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine why they’d want me anywhere near the situation. But Steve was convinced—too convinced.

And instead of feeling encouraged, I felt this knot in my stomach. Almost like guilt. Why is he so sure? Why is he pushing this? Why should someone else put their reputation on the line for my sake? Something in me didn’t like it, and I couldn’t quite explain why.

This email is about that feeling—that strange resistance we have to the people who want to help us—and why those people (your “Persons of Peace”) are usually the ones who open the most important doors in your life.

We Resist the Very Help We Need

The weirdest part of that whole situation wasn’t the opportunity itself; it was how uneasy I felt about Steve’s confidence. He kept telling me I was a great fit. He said it like it was obvious. Meanwhile, I was thinking, “Steve… I’m not sure this is my lane.” His belief felt too strong, like he saw something in me I wasn’t sure I could live up to.

If I’m honest, most of us don’t really trust ourselves when someone else believes in us like that. It feels like pressure. We don’t want to disappoint them. When Steve later told me, “I’ll do anything I can to help you get this job,” it didn’t feel flattering. It felt like, “Whoa… I don’t want you sticking your neck out for me. What if this goes sideways?”

And so we do the thing that sounds noble but is really just fear talking: I should open my own doors. I should earn this. I shouldn’t need anyone to vouch for me. It sounds responsible, but really it’s us trying to protect ourselves from feeling exposed. We don’t resist help because help is bad—we resist it because it forces us to confront the possibility that someone sees more in us than we see in ourselves.

Relationships, Not Strategies, Open the Most Important Doors

Here’s the part nobody likes to say out loud: coaching runs on trust, not marketing. People don’t hire you because they saw a clever ad. They hire you because they trust you, or because they trust someone who trusts you. That’s it. That’s the whole formula.

We’ve made “getting a job because of who you know” sound like some kind of moral failure, like you cheated your way into something you didn’t deserve. But in coaching, that’s exactly how it works. A potential client doesn’t know if coaching is going to transform their organization. They can’t test-drive the outcome. They have to take a chance on you. And people make that kind of decision through relationships, not algorithms.

And if that makes you feel weird, just remember: Jesus built this right into the disciples’ first assignment. They had no experience. Zero. And the whole mission depended on finding a “worthy person”—someone who would welcome them in and give them a starting point. The Bible calls that a Person of Peace. It’s always been this way. The biggest doors in your life usually open because of someone who already trusts you.

A Person of Peace Sees Possibilities You Can’t See

A Person of Peace shows up before you feel ready and says, “You can do this,” even when you’re thinking, “Are you sure you’ve got the right person?” Steve saw something in me I didn’t see in myself. He saw a path I couldn’t picture because I was too busy second-guessing everything.

And these folks—this is important—they like opening doors. This is fun for them. Some people love fixing things. Some people love building things. A Person of Peace loves connecting people. They see two dots on a page and immediately draw a line between them. It’s how they bless people. It’s how they operate.

And the best part? They don’t need you to prove anything. They’re not waiting on a portfolio or a polished elevator pitch. They see potential where you see problems. They see alignment where you see risk. They see something good in you, and they trust that enough to act on it. Their confidence pulls you forward into places you’d never step into on your own.

Conclusion

Not everyone will like you. Some people won’t return your calls. Some won’t get what you do. Some won’t think coaching matters. And Jesus gave us the exact instruction for that situation: shake the dust off and move on. Don’t chase people who aren’t open. Their “no thanks” is not a judgment on your value.

Instead, pay attention to the Steves—the People of Peace who lean forward when you talk, who say, “Let me introduce you to someone,” who want you to succeed and don’t hide it. They’re not doing it out of obligation. They’re doing it because something in them is drawn toward the good they see in you.

You don’t have to earn that kind of help. You just have to stop resisting it. Because the truth is, most of the biggest steps you’ll ever take in your coaching practice—or in anything meaningful—will happen because someone else opened a door and you had the courage to walk through it.