Owning or owned by Rembrandt?

My husband and I once had an opportunity to buy a Rembrandt.

You know, as in the painter.

While visiting a small San Francisco art gallery in 1979, we poked around in the back where they kept their less important works. Two etchings by Rembrandt van Rijn of Holland were for sale, $1000 each.

We had $1000 in the bank. That's about all we had, but we had enough money.

My brain sparked with the concept. I could own a Rembrandt.

Oh, it wasn't a large etching and not particularly attractive, but it was a REMBRANDT.

With excitement singing in my blood I asked my husband if we could buy it. New at being a husband, he paused and then said, "if it's important to you, sure."

A Rembrandt!

Imagine the possibilities.

But all our savings?

"Let's take a walk and come back."

As we climbed the hills of the beautiful city beside a bay,  I considered the practical implications. My husband was in the Navy. We'd already moved four times. Every time we moved in the future, I'd have to think about owning a Rembrandt. I couldn't trust the movers, which meant I'd have to carry the etching myself. It wasn't large, but did I want to be driving around the United States with a Rembrandt in my car? And would we need more home owner's insurance if we possessed a genuine art work?

I let my mind run even more wild. A Rembrandt. Owned by me.

But would I really own it, or would it own me by its requirements on my time, mental energy, insurance and actual pocketbook?

I could have owned a genuine Rembrandt.

But I never did.

That was an important moment in my spiritual maturation–having an opportunity to possess a fantastic dream but choosing not to take it.

The Bible talks a lot about possessions and our attitude toward them. We're warned against covetousness and not using possessions for selfish reasons. I personally have come to see possessions as tools for God to use. Had I purchased that Rembrandt, it might have put me in touch with artists. I might have used it to spark conversations with people in my house. But in the long run, I saw that it would demand more of me than I wanted to give.

Haven't I been happier for 32 years owning reproductions of Rembrandt paintings, rather than an actual stamp-sized etching I'd have to worry about?

Absolutely.

Though isn't it fun to dream?

Have you ever set aside something you thought you wanted when you weighed what it would cost beyond just the money? How did it go?