This sounds terrible, but because of the many terrorist attacks in Israel our response has turned into what I call a ritual.
First, as soon as you hear of the attack, you think of anyone you know that might be in the area of the attack, and you start to phone them. If you are lucky you get right through and you breathe a sigh of relief that they are ok. Immediately afterwards you feel guilty. Why should I be happy when other people have lost their loved ones?
Then you turn on the internet to get as much information as possible, clicking from one site to the other to get the latest news. The numbers are important, the level of injuries are important, and the most important of course are the numbers of dead.
A little while later, you are still attached to the news, and you wait to hear the names of the dead (G-d forbid) and again you are curious to see if you know them. In a country as small as Israel, the chances are pretty good.
Later still you watch the coverage of the funerals. Inevitably you wonder if this will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and pushes Israel to undertake an operation against the terrorists.
Slowly the intensity fades. And you forget about terror attacks until the next time, although not completely.
I started saying Tehillim every day about 12 or 13 years ago. I sometimes miss a day, but I always catch up either on Shabbat or the last day of the Hebrew month, and I try to finish the entire book once a month. I don’t think I would have done this so consistently were it not for the life we live here in Israel.
The joy of living in Israel brings me close to Hashem, and the sense of the fragility of life does the same thing.