I remember their birth. When I held each of them in my arms for the first time, I wanted to pray for their safety, but I didn’t. My instinctive prayer for my children’s safety would be mostly selfish. Their birth made me vulnerable. I wanted to protect myself from pain or loss. (“Would you rather our children be scared or scarred?” I remember asking my wife in bed one night, months before the birth of our eldest. “Neither,” she replied, quite sensibly. “But, if I had to choose, scarred.