Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Rick Scadden. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Alright, Rick thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Can you talk to us about a risk you’ve taken – walk us through the story?
Taking the risk to write Four Time Felon was not a small or comfortable decision—it was a deeply personal, year-long leap of faith. The backstory begins long before the book ever did. I grew up in poverty, surrounded by instability, lack, and survival mode thinking. That environment shaped my early choices, and for a long time, I believed my future was already written. Addiction followed, then prison with four felonies. Each felony felt like confirmation of a label I couldn’t shake. I wasn’t just incarcerated; I was convinced that failure was my permanent identity. When I eventually encountered Jesus and began the slow, painful process of transformation, my life changed, but my past didn’t disappear. It stayed with me—heavy, complicated, and unresolved.
Years later, as a pastor living a life I once thought was impossible—stable, healthy, fruitful, and prosperous—I felt an unmistakable tension. People saw the outcome, but not the cost. They heard the preaching, but not the nights of withdrawal, the steel doors, the shame, or the relapses of my past. Writing this book meant reopening wounds I had worked hard to close. It meant revisiting memories I had buried for survival. The risk wasn’t financial—though taking an entire year to write instead of building more programs, preaching more messages, or chasing visible success certainly had a cost. The real risk was emotional, reputational, and spiritual. I risked being misunderstood, judged, or reduced once again to my worst decisions.
I took the risk because I realized my story didn’t belong to me alone. There are people trapped in cycles of poverty, addiction, incarceration, and shame who need to know that transformation is possible—even after repeated failure. There are leaders, business owners, pastors, and families who need to understand that redemption doesn’t erase scars, but it redeems them. I wrote Four Time Felon slowly and honestly over the course of a year, choosing truth over image and obedience over comfort. The outcome has been greater than I imagined—not just in sales or opportunities, but in impact. The risk produced freedom, clarity, and connection. It turned my past from a liability into a lifeline for others. And in the process, it reminded me that the greatest risks often lead to the most meaningful redemption.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I am a full-time pastor, leader, author, and communicator who has dedicated my life to helping people change theirs. My journey into ministry, leadership, and storytelling was anything but conventional. I came from a background marked by poverty, addiction, incarceration, and repeated failure—experiences that could have easily disqualified me from a future of influence. Instead, those very experiences became the foundation of my calling. After a life-altering encounter with Jesus, I began the long, disciplined work of transformation, healing, and growth. What started as personal redemption eventually turned into a clear assignment: to help others discover that change is possible, no matter how broken their past may be.
Today, I serve as an Executive Pastor of Citipointe Church in Loveland, Colorado. Here I help lead and operate a thriving multisite church, where I am deeply involved in vision, leadership development, culture, systems, and people. Beyond the local church, I teach leadership courses, deliver keynote presentations, and speak to organizations, churches, recovery programs, and conferences. I also volunteer regularly in rehabilitation facilities and remain actively involved in church planting, helping new faith communities get off the ground with healthy leadership, structure, and mission. Whether I’m preaching on a Sunday, coaching leaders, or sitting across from someone in early recovery, my focus is the same: transformation that lasts.
What sets my work apart is authenticity forged through lived experience. I don’t teach theory—I teach transformation. I understand addiction, incarceration, broken systems, and internal battles because I’ve lived them. That perspective allows me to connect with people across every spectrum: executives and inmates, pastors and addicts, leaders and those just trying to survive. Through my book Four Time Felon, my leadership training, and my speaking engagements, I help people break cycles, reclaim identity, and build lives marked by purpose, discipline, and hope.
What I am most proud of isn’t my platform or accomplishments—it’s the lives changed along the way. Families restored. Leaders raised up. Churches planted. men and women who once felt disqualified now walking in purpose. I want people to know that my brand, my work, and my messages are rooted in redemption, responsibility, and results. I believe no past is too broken, no failure too final, and no calling too far gone. I am living proof that transformation is real—and I’ve committed my life to helping others experience it for themselves.
Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?
One story that clearly illustrates my resilience is my journey with the fear of public speaking—a fear that once had real control over my life. Growing up, the thought of speaking in front of people terrified me to the point of physical sickness. I would feel nauseous just anticipating it. That fear became so overwhelming that I often lied to get out of opportunities that required me to speak publicly. Avoidance felt safer than exposure, even though deep down I knew I was running from something I was called to do. The tension between fear and calling created an inner conflict that followed me for years.
In 2016, everything shifted. I reached a point where I could no longer let fear dictate my obedience. I knew God had called me to use my voice—to lead, to preach, to communicate hope—and I made a decisive commitment that changed my life: I would say yes to everything the Lord asked me to do, especially the things that scared me. That year, I intentionally stepped into every opportunity to speak, teach, and lead, even when my hands shook and my heart raced. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was transformational. Each “yes” weakened fear’s grip and strengthened my faith.
That decision in 2016 marked a breaking point. The fear didn’t vanish overnight, but its authority did. Through obedience, repetition, and trust, I broke free from the lie that fear had the final word. Today, I still get nervous before stepping in front of people—but fear no longer controls me. Instead, I lead with confidence and courage, grounded in the knowledge that calling is greater than comfort. That season reshaped who I am, not just as a speaker, but as a leader. It taught me that resilience is often built one obedient yes at a time—and that stepping through fear can unlock the very thing you were created to do.
We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?
One of the most important lessons I had to unlearn was the belief that my trials and failures disqualified me from achieving great things. For a long time, I carried the weight of my past—poverty, addiction, incarceration, and repeated setbacks—as if they were permanent limitations. I believed those experiences defined the ceiling of my life rather than the context of my growth. Without realizing it, I had adopted a poverty mindset that went far beyond finances. It shaped how I thought about opportunity, leadership, confidence, and what I believed was possible for someone “like me.”
The backstory is rooted in survival. Growing up in poverty teaches you to think small, play it safe, and expect loss. Later, addiction and prison reinforced that mindset, training me to see life through the lens of scarcity, fear, and self-doubt. Even after my life began to change, that internal narrative lingered. I was moving forward externally, but internally I was still asking, Am I really allowed to dream big? I had to confront the lie that hardship equals disqualification and realize that trials don’t determine destiny—mindset does.
Unlearning that belief required intentional retraining of how I thought. I had to choose to see adversity as a forge, not a sentence. Everything I went through could either shape me into someone resilient and disciplined or trap me in limitation—it was my choice. I learned that if the mind is renewed, the future can be rewritten. Today, I live from a different conviction: all things are possible if you put your mind to it, apply discipline, and refuse to let your past define your potential. That shift didn’t just change how I think—it changed how I lead, how I serve, and how I help others break free from the same invisible ceilings I once lived under.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://Fourtimefelon.com
- Instagram: @Bigrickscadden
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rick.scadden.1
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rick-scadden-322024314
Image Credits
Credit Citipointe Church Loveland