The Jesus I Was Taught to Follow… Wasn’t the One Who Lived

What it cost me to see the truth—and what I gained in return.

I remember the exact moment the cracks started to form.

It wasn’t a crisis. It wasn’t a book. It wasn’t even an argument. It was a quiet realization that kept showing up in small, inconvenient ways—a whisper behind every sermon, a tension I couldn’t unfeel. The Jesus I was raised to follow was starting to look less like a historical man from Galilee… and…