There's this little statue at my grandparent's house. It's of a little boy with his arms folded holding a little bird. This little bird is made of lead and is pretty hefty in weight considering it's size. This little statue has been at my grandparent's home for as long as I can remember. And, I can remember fairly well, because that little bird was in my hand from the time I walked in the door until they had to rip it from my hands to go home. I surely received some lead poisoning from this little guy... effects yet to be seen. Every single grand kid (and now great-grand kid) has done the same thing. This little bird is proof that age appropriate and high dollar developmental toys are far over rated.
While I sat with my grandma Thursday afternoon, with tears in her eyes, she looked at me and said "we're going to have to pack up the house, is there anything in the house that you want?" I immediately started crying saying we didn't need to think about that now. She then went on to talk about her mother's silver that she's added pieces to over the years. I thought to myself... no I wouldn't want anything valuable or big ticket items. So I listened as she talked about her silver for a little while. Then it took all I had to not get my name on that stupid, little bird first and escape the emotional battle that's guaranteed with my cousins.
The next morning I read Psalm 47:4 where the beginning says "He chooses our inheritance for us..." God knows me intimately well, better than I know myself. He knows what I need, want, and cherish already. He knows what is the best for me. Now, my grandma knows me. She honestly played a major role in raising me, but as much as she knows and loves me, it pales in comparison to Christ. In this weird way, when I read that verse I pictured Christ lovely placing that little bird in my hands saying "here, I know how much this means to you."