A Journey of Falling Apart, Waking Up, and Showing Up
My name is Don Phelps, and I’m a person in long‑term recovery.
There was a time when I stood in the pulpit each week, preaching hope and grace as a Lutheran pastor. I spoke words of comfort to others while secretly drowning in shame. Beneath the surface, my life was unraveling — not all at once, but slowly, quietly, and painfully.
For years, I lived in denial. I knew alcohol was a problem, but I clung to what I now call my “yet list.”
I hadn’t lost my job — yet.
I hadn’t destroyed my relationships — yet.
I hadn’t been arrested — yet.
But one by one, those “yets” came true.
I lost my job.
I lost my family.
I lost my home and my financial security.
Eventually, I even lost my freedom and driving privileges as the result of Driving Under the Influence.
And all the while, I was supposed to be the one helping others. I was the pastor, the leader, the one people came to for answers. But inside, I was lost. I was preaching light while living in darkness. I was performing a version of myself I no longer believed in.
That disconnection — between who I was and who I pretended to be — was unbearable.
Breaking Down to Break Open
My fall from grace wasn’t just professional. It was spiritual. It shattered the identity I’d built over decades. And in that emptiness, I began to confront truths I’d been running from for years.
My recovery has never been a straight line. It’s included periods of stability and painful relapses. But over time, something deeper began to shift. I discovered new ways of healing — not through dogma or performance, but through presence, community, and honesty.
It was only recently — while being interviewed for Season 3 of my son’s podcast, Finding My Religion — that I was finally able to step back and view my journey with both compassion and clarity. For the first time, I told the whole story out loud. Not just the pain, but the meaning I’ve found in the aftermath.
🎧 Listen to the entire season, or individual episodes on Finding My Religion via Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/
In recent years, I’ve found refuge in the principles of Recovery Dharma, a Buddhist‑inspired path to recovery that emphasizes mindfulness, self‑inquiry, and compassion. For someone like me — who had spent so many years performing, hiding, and judging himself — the invitation to simply be was life‑changing.
From Preaching to Practicing
Today, I no longer stand in a pulpit.
I sit in circles. I listen more than I speak. I share from experience, not authority.
I don’t offer quick fixes or magic words. I offer something more real: my presence—my willingness to sit with pain, yours and mine. I believe transformation is possible, even in the middle of the mess.
The journey from pulpit to presence hasn’t been easy, but it’s been necessary. I had to let go of roles, titles, and old beliefs to show up more fully for life—as it is, not as I wish it were.
And what I’ve learned is: there’s no one right way to recover. But there is power in telling the truth. There is healing in community. There is peace in simply being present.
Are You on a Journey Too?
Whether you’re just beginning recovery or decades in…
Whether you’ve walked away from religion or still find comfort in it…
Whether you’re holding it together or falling apart…
You are not alone.
I created Awakening With Don as a space to offer truth, mindfulness, and community—a path walked together, without shame, without performance, without pretending to be perfect.
Thanks for letting me share this chapter of my story. There’s more to come. If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you.
What parts of your story are still waiting to be told?
Feel free to leave a comment below, send me a message, or continue the conversation on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AwakeningWithDon/

2 Responses
Don,
Powerful. Vulnerable. A story to be shared. The humanity from – through – the pulpit is important. You say you aren’t in the pulpit any more and yet you bring powerful message. Just this past week I was talking to someone about the way preachers never ‘go through it.’ My friend’s response, “Bullshit.” Your lived experience – shared through this story – helps me exhale.
Hi Caroline – thank you so much for your very kind and thoughtful comments! My apologies for the tardiness in responding – I initially had some site issues where I was unable to see your comment when you posted it!