Our lives are fragile – like dust:

You turn men back to dust and say, ‘go back, sons of men.’

Time is relative:

To your eyes a thousand years are like yesterday, come and gone,
No more than a watch in the night.

Each day – as it begins, as it unfolds, as it ends – is a treasure:

In the morning, fill us with your love, we shall exult and rejoice all our days.
Let the favour of the Lord be upon us, give success to the work of our hands.

Psalm 89 (90) belongs to us. Pray it reverently.


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