He records where we live...

Sometimes I do wonder why I am here? Not the quintessential questions of existence, but the "why" of right now. This city, this time, today. A bit like the incessant "why's" we hear from our children all day and into the night. 

And then I read Psalm 87. 

A Psalm of lthe Sons of Korah. A Song.

87  On mthe holy mount nstands the city he founded;

2  the Lord oloves the gates of Zion

more than all the dwelling places of Jacob.

3  pGlorious things of you are spoken,

O qcity of God. Selah

4  Among those who rknow me I mention sRahab and Babylon;

behold, Philistia and Tyre, with tCush1—

“This one was born there,” they say.

5  And of Zion it shall be said,

“This one and that one were born in her”;

for the Most High himself will uestablish her.

6  The Lord records as he vregisters the peoples,

“This one was born there.” Selah

7  wSingers and xdancers alike say,

“All my ysprings are in you.”

This is a song. Sung by the singers and dancers. And why do they sing? Because the Lord records as He registers the peoples and where they were born. 

This means that my birth was planned. It's recorded in His books. This is joy: He knows my name, my birth, my place of living. I am known. Never forgotton!

O Lord, how this ties in with the amazing truth of Psalm 139 which declares that you have searched me, you know me, where I sit and rise, and that I can never be far from you for you reach even over my oceans of despair and loneliness to hold me. I have become a singer and dancer for the joy that you bring me. Let this joy be not only mine, but for those I love. May I sing of this joy to the nations, and may we together echo the words: "All my springs are in you!"

(Selah - pause and reflect on this.)