Blessed are the Peacemakers

What It Takes to Help People Find Worth and Purpose When Life Simply Hurts

WRITTEN BY RJ WALTERS | PHOTOS BY JORDAN RANDALL | ILLUSTRATED BY TRAVIS DOODLES

On a recent Wednesday afternoon, in a dark crowded room along East Main St. 49-year old Pedro Martinez was sweating. His eyes were closed. He was desperate.

With everything in him he was wholeheartedly belting out …“and all I have needed, thy hand hath provided…,” and the echoes and cries of others singing in unison could be heard, even felt.

An hour earlier Pedro had been setting up tents and tables to serve people—the homeless, neighborhood friends and curious parties. Some of them he knows well, and others he was eager to welcome to the family.

Life has been trying, and at times devastating for the father of six whose family hails from Italy and Puerto Rico.

He’s been divorced and lost many close loved ones. Not long ago, he was homeless for three years. He has had seasons where he was unable to see his children, and about a decade ago he experienced the unimaginable grief of losing his infant son.

Yet on this day, he was actively living as a “light of the world” as Scripture calls it, and he was giving thanks as he submitted himself to God, come what may and knowing what has been. 

Inside “The Table,” a church started by social media sensation Travis “Doodles” Settineri, Martinez was one of dozens in attendance that day who were hungry to be part of a community defined more by a savior than their status. There were homeless, there were successful business owners; there were people living victoriously as overcomers and others trying to figure out how to overcome.

As part of the colorful, undeniably distinctive ministry called Worth & Purpose, Settineri and his wife Amber have built a homebase for what some might call the “done, doubting and disengaged” population. 

In many ways it started when Travis, who once was cast on an MTV reality television show, left a lucrative career documenting the life of a billionaire and traded it for pointing the camera to joyful giveaways to unsuspecting strangers. If you’ve never seen videos of how people respond to spontaneous generosity—which in this case came in the form of money straight from Travis, Amber and online supporters—a quick Google search will quickly get you up to speed. This is the part of his story where he accumulated billions of views online and amassed millions of fans on platforms like Instagram, YouTube and Facebook.
There are slight acknowledgments of that journey inside the 1,000 square foot ministry building, such as a plaque denoting when Travis Doodles hit 1 million YouTube subscribers. 

But eventually, those holy hits of dopamine turned into something more tangible here in Lakeland, including street outreach, children’s programming and real community built on love, dignity and worship.

And now—this. A campus that is a living mural of Travis’ creative expression, but clearly humble in its expression of what matters most. It’s a place to step into an old school arcade room, grab an ice cream from his iconic truck that lights up local streets and most importantly, a place to go if you’re interested in what the collision of heaven and earth could look like. 

“How would I describe this place? How would I describe Travis?” Pedro reflects, dressed in a nice button up shirt in the middle of a sweltering Florida day. “Pure unadulterated love.” 

IN SEARCH OF HOME
For Travis, the 40-year-old New Jersey native, the journey to find truth consequently began with a homeless man, who he now refers to as “an angel.”

In Naples, Fla.—not exactly known as a haven for the unhoused population—Travis, then 18, encountered a homeless man at a local basketball court, one day after he cried out to God for help.

“Everything [this man] was saying was my exact situation,” he recalls. “From me going to college, partying, an education major who switched to business…like word for word what was going on in my life. And then he said, ‘Man, Jesus changed my life.’”

Travis didn’t think much of it, but when he went back to college a guy invited him to a Bible study and the seed the homeless man had planted compelled him to accept the invitation.

If you watch his still popular videos online, stop by for a Wednesday lunch and worship service at The Table or simply watch how Travis engages with people from all walks of life, it’s clear that he’s fully devoted to what the Apostle Paul calls “fighting the good fight,” which intentionally puts the Kingdom of God ahead of the ways of culture and desires of man.

That mission has put him directly on the path of helping people get off the street, discovering their purpose and entering into the redemptive work and also the perpetual heartbreak that comes with that.

His connection to people—and with other local organizations like Gospel Inc., which is located just down the street from the Worth & Purpose campus—often aids people in finding housing, gaining employment and finally having the resources needed to find stability and even repair broken relationships. 

How would I describe this place? How would I describe Travis?” Pedro reflects. “Pure unadulterated love.

“At least half of the people we encounter and work with just need a place to call home, and that alone will make a huge difference,” he says. “Just getting out of the crazy heat…and a place to get a good night’s sleep is a game changer.”

The importance of home is one reason Travis is unapologetically comfortable using the word homeless. He mentions being homeless is not “a sin,” it is just the literal recognition that someone doesn’t have a house and there are challenges that go with that reality. Some people might question how that terminology pairs with the concept of human dignity that is so important to the ministry, but Travis has a straightforward answer.

“The word homeless has been used for hundreds of years, and then now in 2026 you can’t say anything without offending somebody?” he asks. “Get over yourself, dude. All of the people that I serve, yeah, they say, ‘Hey, I’m homeless.’”

Working with people who have deep trauma and who have had to hustle and struggle to survive can at times be brutal. One moment, Travis or other leaders might experience a high of someone giving up an addiction and turning toward Jesus, and the next they might be shaking their head at a poor decision that set one of their friends back on their path to self-sufficiency.

“This is really hard work, and it’s nonstop…somebody needs something all the time,” Travis says. “I really rely on discernment from God on who we should pour into, because when I do I go all in and I will literally die for you. At times though, our job is just to provide a path and provide resources and it’s up to each person to make the most of those.” 

He says that without his wife, Amber, none of this would be possible because she keeps him level headed, and she prayerfully helps them navigate the opportunities in front of them.

“Without her I would probably be doing crazy things and living in the ice cream truck,” he quips. “My wife is never wrong—and I don’t mean that she acts that way, I mean she has crazy discernment about what we should and shouldn’t do.”

If I die tomorrow, everything just goes away if it’s just videos. But with this, I die tomorrow and it can continue and the mission moves on because there are people doing it,” he says. “I believe that if I quit [producing videos] today God would guide me to where I need to be because He has led me here.

MORE CHAMPIONS NEEDED
Waiting for the Wednesday festivities to begin, Curtis, a 64-year-old veteran, a former church deacon, and someone who has long struggled with homelessness, smiles as he talks about how Travis inspires him.

“Witnessing Travis’ success reminds me that if God can bless Travis, He can also restore my life,” he says. “This place is like a spiritual sanctuary and gives me the strength to walk by faith and not by sight.”

His story is one still being written. He says he feels like he’s walking through a valley but he knows his help comes from God, and Worth & Purpose reminds him there are not usually quick fixes to some of life’s greatest challenges.

This retro diner setup and arcade is just off of the sanctuary, a fun spot for old friends to connect or new friends to be made.

“Sometimes we carry too much,” Pedro reflects, thinking about his own life as well as the journey some of his friends are on. “Run to [God] when things go bad instead of running away from Him.”

Travis is glad to help people define what success is, and is not, in a ministry where many people are on the fringe of society.

It’s not quick U-turns, it’s no guarantee of long-term change, and spiritually, it’s not usually radical overnight transformations, although such miracles do occur. 

“Most people who walk through our doors don’t need another program,” Travis says in a recent social media post highlighting the opening of the Worth & Purpose campus. “They need to know their name matters.”

To ensure more people know their name matters, Travis is proactively on the hunt for partners and donors who are ready to scale a vision that he often packages in four words: Love God. Love People.

Currently he has one church that offers regular support, and highly variable gifts coming in from local givers and online fans, but month to month the income is uncertain. He has a goal of having 500 supporters give gifts of $25 or more per month. That would create a stable base for outreaches, providing food and resources, and facility costs, as well as start to position the ministry for expansion. He believes God will lead the ministry to a day where it will be “operating from overflow,” but until then he will continue to steward every gift given to strengthen relationships, build bridges and offer everything from free haircuts to pizza nights to opportunities to be baptized.

People might know his name because of social media, and he acknowledges the role it played in helping him get to where he is today. Through Worth & Purpose, though, he is building something that does not require a camera or internet connection. 

“If I die tomorrow, everything just goes away if it’s just videos. But with this, I die tomorrow and it can continue and the mission moves on because there are people doing it,” he says. “I believe that if I quit [producing videos] today God would guide me to where I need to be because He has led me here.”

Thankfully, for everyone who loves engaging content, and people who need a reminder of what true hope looks like, the record button will likely remain on as the next chapter unfolds.

Watch and see, and if you’re so inclined, find your role in this grand adventure aiming to help people find their true worth and purpose. 

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Making Up For Lost Time