The first sunny Sunday in September after my birth, Mom and Dad trundled me off to the church my father pastored in Dayton, Ohio. They started a habit I’ve kept my entire life. I married a minister. I teach Sunday school, and I play the piano in morning worship. But I was 31 years old before I truly believed God loved me. Why? I developed an orphan heart. I saw God not as a loving father an—“Abba, Daddy”…