“Life really does begin at 40. Up until then, you are just doing research.” — Carl Jung
Do you believe people can change? I do—especially now. From my story to my studies, it’s a foregone fact. We’re more changeable than we care to admit, and some of us have spent a lot of energy resisting that truth. At least, I did.
The Milestone of 40
This week, I turned 40. My 30th birthday felt existential; 40, not so much. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the past year yelling at myself to “grow up!” At 30, I was clueless about my inner struggles and dysfunctional mindsets. I was barely aware of my theological issues with the Evangelical church, trying to keep my head down and exist comfortably.
The past decade has been about more than understanding ideas—it’s been about living them. No more vicariously existing through my impact on others. No more projecting, avoiding, or vacillating between extremes. It’s been a journey toward harmony and authenticity.
Fatherhood and Faith
As a father working to restore my relationship with my kids, this year has been challenging. I miss my kids terribly and hate the looks of doubt when we are able to speak. Looking back across generations and forward into the future has forced me to examine my place in history—and in the lives of those around me. I’ve had to confront my intentions, motivations, insecurities, arrogance, and assumptions. And I’ve had to learn to unbelieve in things many of my Christian brothers do.
The World, like me, needs to grow up. It’s not just a thought; it’s a diagnosis voiced by many more qualified than a recovering pastor in his spare bedroom. But the truth remains and the American church needs to heed this call. More pointedly, I’m not the only one who needs to get over themselves.
The Journey of Change
One of the things I became deeply aware of during my recovery journey, as I delved further inward, was how I viewed and talked about myself. In my psyche, I still saw myself as a kid. It’s no surprise, then, that I acted like one for so long. “A boy in a man’s body” suited me well.

For years, I believed I could—or “would“—change. But when I finally took that abrupt right turn away from avoidance and self-delusion, I crashed into the part of me that didn’t want to change. Change is risky, and risk always challenges our sense of power. The habits and thought patterns we know are comfortable, even when they harm us, are there to protect a past-tense image of ourselves. It’s idolatry. It’s cognitively easier to resist change than to embrace it, especially when it means confronting ourselves.
Our minds are remarkable in how they cling to the familiar, even if it’s detrimental. It’s preferring slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land because of the desert in between. Change always requires sacrifice and transition—a phase that isn’t optional. The old narratives we continue to think with can become an invisible barrier to the goodness already in our lives.
This transition is a strange place: the echoes of old narratives clash with the realities of something new. It’s sometimes quiet and others excitingly unsettling. The distractions of a past and future that aren’t the Here and Now tug at us, while old stimulations expect the old responses they used to get. For me, sometimes two versions of myself—the old and the new—still wrestle for control. But the new Paule now keeps at least one hand on the wheel.
Embracing Change and Its Challenges
One surprising realization has been: “This is how life is supposed to work?” It feels like a secret no one told me. Almost, too, like American Christianity held something back from me that was guaranteed through the Gospel. But it’s no secret or out of reach. Understanding change is more accessible now than ever before in history. And yet, the world—particularly in America—markets and propagandizes “change” so heavily that the real thing feels mythical.
The World wants change, but people do not want it within themselves – that’s too risky. We want external change to make us feel secure internally. We seek validation from the “big” outside things while the pile of small things gather in our wake. It’s backwards and upside down. This is why we miss the small moments as parents that became seeds of doubt and destruction in our children later.
This is the absurdity of our thinking: we avoid personal honesty and project our egoic insecurities outward. As a result, we create false realities and isolate ourselves by crafting fake versions of who we are then forcing the kinds of relationships that make us feel safe and justified—through careers, education, social media, religion, politics, addiction, entertainment, Church, sex, control, wealth, and more.

The Clarity of Growth
The clarity, certainty, and peace I’ve experienced in this new phase of life have been transformative—and disorienting. Some days, my mind feels like the hell of my past self. Some other days, it feels light and empowering. Mostly, though, it was a slow trudge through every principle and assumption I’ve built over the last 39 years.
Progress in one area often destabilizes the equilibrium of others. Improve acceptance and presence, and suddenly you’re present but unsure of what to do. Build self-control, and you risk withholding former loving acts from others. Learn forgiveness, but guard against naivety. Take responsibility, and you realize how much unnecessary weight you’ve been carrying—shedding it might unsettle relationships. Growth is one thing at a time, one day at a time, and one person at a time.
Since November, some of the inner goals have seen significant progress. The noise of the past has been caged, though it still throws fits. Most days, it’s calm and peaceful enough. The challenge now is to stay present, to know what to do with serenity, and to resist letting my old self pull me away from the moment.
The Weight of the Past and the Hope of the Future
For the first time, I can say I’ve changed. It’s a strange, new sensation. Looking ahead, there are plans and aspirations—things every adult should know before 40. My life isn’t driven by distractions or the pursuit of comfort and “success.” Instead, it’s about meaning, faith, truth, and a desire to love people better. Success, to me, is authentically living life and faithfully doing what’s set before me—with love. It’s radically simple and has required a massive adjustment.
Instead of drowning in procrastination or opportunities, it’s about building momentum from where I am now, creating connections, and investing value into Creation as I go. As Søren Kierkegaard said, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” If we remain stuck in the past, it defines us. But if we let it educate us, we can live authentically and freely, moving forward with clarity and freedom.
BTW, Christians could really benefit from studying some more history. But I digress…

The Path Forward
At 40, it’s no longer about “growing up” or “grit” or “facing myself.” It’s about being fully present in the world and living the peace I’ve found on this path out of addiction. Seven years after my church plant sent me to rehab, it’s time to let go of the old me. Paule is gone. I’m grateful for what he endured and learned, but it’s time to move forward.
Life now is about living authentically, loving fully, and embracing the freedom and peace that come with real change. It’s not easy, but it’s worth every step.
Drunk Pastor & Stigma Marketing & Development Updates
It’s been a busy, rewarding, and sometimes chaotic time as I continue my work with Drunk Pastor and the projects I’m building under Stigma Marketing & Development. Things are moving forward, and it’s feeling like the right balance between passion projects and the business I’m putting my heart into. There’s a lot to share, so let’s dive in!
Drunk Pastor Updates
First, Drunk Pastor is still very much a passion and hobby project for me. It’s the soul of what I’m working through personally—faith, struggles, and everything in between. While it’s been a challenge balancing this with my business and personal life, it’s where my heart is. I want to emphasize that Drunk Pastor isn’t just a side gig. It’s the space where I work through the real stuff—the stuff that matters most.
Here’s what’s been happening on the website:
- Guest Post Submission Page: I’ve added this to invite other writers and voices to contribute.
- Updated ‘Now‘ and FAQs: A little cleanup to better reflect where things are right now.
- Portfolio Page: I’ve started adding past sermons and other content I’ve worked on.
- Patreon Resources Page: This is coming soon! I’ll be offering exclusive content there soon enough, and I’m excited for the possibilities.
Patreon is live. Currently, there are a handful of blog posts that are available for Patreon members. These posts can be Throwbacks, Personal Updates, or Random Tangents (like a proposed solution to the Fermi Paradox based on consciousness). Patreon members will also get early access to certain posts, like Good Fruit & Fresh Springs: Unraveling the Chiastic Structure & Old Testament Allusions of James 3:9-12.
Drunk Pastor has a whopping 0 Patrons. As more time passes and more content is generated, Patreon membership will be at least more interesting to people.
Patreon membership starts $7/month (Deacon level). Right now, there’s a 7-day free trial. Membership levels go up to Cardinal level at $60/month.

Also, Bible In Context: Reframing Genesis & John has officially kicked off with the first study. We had just two people for the first session, but a few people weren’t able to make the first one. We recorded it, but I had a mic fail—so we might need to do that one again soon. This will be a foundational series for anyone interested in how ancient texts like Genesis and John fit into the broader history of the Bible, and the plan is to keep building this out and offering it to Patreon members first.
The Road Ahead
I’m in it for the long haul. Drunk Pastor might be my personal space for figuring out faith, life, and everything in between, but Stigma Marketing & Development is where the real work happens. The fun part is that these projects aren’t separate—they work together. The marketing, development, and programs I offer come out of the deeper, more personal work that shows up on Drunk Pastor. There’s a lot of overlap, and that’s the way I want it.
I’m still juggling a lot, and working on doing that, less but the big vision is clear – keep grinding, keep engaging, and continue creating. I’m excited about where both Drunk Pastor and Stigma M&D are headed—and I’m grateful for you all who follow along on this journey.
Stay tuned for more content, updates, and resources coming your way.