I slid my feet into a pair of flats, preparing to leave the house. I checked my pockets for my cellphone and then leaned down to kiss my six-year-old snuggled and cozy in my bed under our fluffy blanket. Instead of saying goodbye, he looked up at me and asked, “Mommy, does Daddy love me more or does God?” I was caught off guard and paused, my body mid lean and my face next to his. My brain flashed through memories of how much his father loves him. I thought of two nights earlier when this little boy had broken his collar bone. How John heard the cry and immediately…