The word Adar share a similar three-letter root with the Hebrew word adir (mighty), and it is this word that both opens and closes our psalm.

King David opens his psalm with a statement of fact: God's Name is mighty both on earth and in heaven. Yet in today's world, it seems that it is all too easy to ignore Him and pretend there is no Higher Authority. Is there anywhere on earth where His might is still recognized?

Children are often more in tune with the real workings of the world than are adults. Whereas after a certain age most human beings become jaded and forget to look with wonder at the world, children are endowed with a natural curiosity. Whenever they see something new, they are filled with a million questions. Why are there clouds? Why is grass green? Why do we have two eyes, but only one mouth?

Young children are rarely satisfied with our mechanistic, scientific explanations - which may explain "how" the world works but can never explain "why" the world was originally created in the way that it was. What lies beneath their incessant questioning is the sense - even the knowledge - that there is something more to this world than meets the eye.

Where does this knowledge come from? A story that recently appeared in an Israeli magazine gives an answer:

A young couple brought home their new baby from the hospital. Their 3-year-old seemed to be adjusting well to the new arrival, but the child kept pestering the parents with the same request: She wanted to be alone with the baby for a few minutes. The parents were a bit anxious to leave the baby alone with the little girl - after all, it's not uncommon for children to be jealous of their younger siblings and even try to hurt them - but they finally decided to grant the little girl her wish.

The little girl went into the room where the baby was - while the parents stood on the other side of the door, which was left open a crack. The girl came up close to the crib and said in an urgent whisper, "Baby, baby, remind me what God looks like. I'm starting to forget."

Young children know there is a God. Through the strength of their conviction - and the persistence of their questioning - we too can be roused from our half-sleep. We can become inspired to look more deeply into the workings of the world and (re)discover the basic truth of God's existence by stepping outside for a few minutes with a young child.

All we have to do is look up at the night sky and suddenly we are overwhelmed by the grandeur of the universe. Suddenly we realize that even if we were to become king of the entire planet, Earth is just a speck in the universe and our "power" would have no more influence on the universe than the flapping of the wings of a gnat.

How ridiculous, therefore, it is to strut across the stage of our little worlds like a puffed-up cardboard king from an operetta. And yet …

Yet we are rulers, and we do have tremendous power. Our actions do make a difference, for as the psalmist continues, we have been given the intellectual capability to rule over every aspect of God's Creation - the animals, the birds and even the fish.

The problem is how do we keep this dual awareness - knowledge of both our smallness and our greatness - firmly planted in our minds and hearts?

The only way we can do it is if we recognize that we humans - who are masters over the earth - have a Master Who is even greater than us. Just as children have to learn to develop a strong sense of self even while they must acknowledge that their parents are stronger and wiser than they, we adults have a similar task.

Our paradox is that we can only become truly great when we acknowledge that God is even greater; and we are only truly strong when we see God's mighty presence in every aspect of the world.