Today’s headlines carry the weight of human fragility—the elderly displaced from their homes, journalists held captive, families fleeing violence, the defenseless caught in crossfire. The psalmist knew this cry; he did not turn away from it, but placed it directly before God as prayer. There is something in the act of witnessing suffering without flinching, of naming it before heaven, that mirrors what the Psalmist calls the Lord’s own attention: a turning of the ear toward the humble. We need not resolve these griefs today or assign them meaning. We might instead ask what it means to listen as we are urged to listen—not as distant observers, but as those who recognize in the vulnerable our own fragility, and in their plea, an echo of something true about justice itself.