Five years ago I felt like God asked me to write a book. It wasn’t something I’d ever planned on doing, but I was up for the challenge. Or so I thought. I had no idea how long of a process this would be, how many disappointments I would face, how discouraged I would get, or how much my book would change over the years. Originally I wanted to write the story of how I found the real Jesus — or rather how He found me — in the midst of cultic, legalistic Christianity. I was heartbroken over the many people who grew up like me, but chose to reject…