The baby (who is 3, going on 4) would complain, but while she was sleeping, her sister and I got to escape and shoot some arrows…that is to say, Alison got to shoot arrows, I got to shoot pictures of Alison shooting arrows. It is a wonderful thing to see my daughter enjoying a thing that I enjoyed at her exact age. My sister reminded me of an arrow shot through a neighbor’s window when we were kids, and I still hold my breath at the memory, and thank God that no one was hurt. It taught me an important lesson, though, and with Alison, I am so careful to make sure that she is attentive as to where her arrows might fly. This is, of course, a metaphor for the way we are raising our kids. Be careful where your arrows fly, because it takes so little to make everything go wrong, to bring suffering into the world. But draw that bow, hold your breath, let the arrow go, and if you do things right, the feeling you get as the arrow hits its mark is the very definition of what God intends us to be.