When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established;
what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?
Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them with glory and honor.
You have given them dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet,
all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field,
the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas.
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In the time after the storm, I have learned tips about psychological first-aid for myself and for those dealing with stress on heightened levels. The practices are almost childlike in simplicity. They are the kind of advice that often evokes eye rolls and muttering of "that can't work." I don't claim that they work for everyone or even all the time, but I can personally witness to their veracity. One suggestion is to walk outside and look up. Immediately I am drawn away from the maelstrom at the center of my turmoil to a sky - velvet blue-black or a gentle pool of baby blue or mysterious gray. Sun. Moon. Stars. Clouds. Me. And an awareness of something more, someone more. The teeth of the dragon that has been snacking on my bones lose their power to take my life. Another piece of first-aid is to focus on feeling your hands and feet. There is an almost immediate sense of being grounded to the earth like one would use a walking stick to steady one's balance on uneven ground. The psalmist's offering is not simply a piece of poetry, but something that might save a life to live well another day.
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Peace of the Lord be with you all.