All of us know we’re supposed to hold our possessions lightly, but it doesn’t come naturally. We have to repeatedly remind ourselves everything we own has come to us, in one way or another, from God.

Following this principle becomes more difficult when we’re dealing with the possessions of someone else. For example, Mary, Tom and I dismantled Mom’s apartment after she died, a strange experience with endless questions of what to do with each item. Yet it had to be done.

After Nate died, my first reaction was to leave everything as it was: the pens atop his dresser, his shoes lined-up in a row, his business suits on the closet bar. Most people don’t need someone else’s used clothing, nor do they want it. Even so, bundling it all up for charity is a bite too big for most widows to chew. And so the clothes stay put.

Today I decided it was time, at least for part of Nate’s wardrobe. His business shirts have been hanging in dry cleaner plastic for 18 months, pressed and ready to go to work. How silly to let them hang there when other workers could be wearing them.

Nate probably suffered from shirt gluttony owning 45 of them. He also collected pens, some of them antiques, some with leaks, so many of the shirts were pocket-stained. Thankfully, our church is conducting a sale this weekend, with a welcome mat out for used clothing (although not the ones with stained pockets). This moved me to release one more piece of Nate’s life.

Much of adjusting to widowhood is emotional and must be done in our heads. That means it’s not about the shirts at all but about missing the guy who was inside them. Reminding myself that he isn’t ever coming back to wear those shirts helps me let them go. I don’t want to cling to a fantasy.

A day will come for each of us when we won’t need what’s hanging in our closets. Whether we slip out of this life through illness or accident, closet contents will be far from our thoughts. And it’s a good idea now to picture others pawing through our stuff wondering what to do with it all.

There’s a passage in Scripture that’s always puzzled me. It describes God’s detailed care of those he loves, including provision of clothes, and not just any clothes but spectacular ones. Yet many in this world are wearing rags, which doesn’t jive with the story. (Luke 12)

But Jesus was probably referring to our new paradise-clothes, garments with an other-worldly dazzle we can’t yet picture. Nate didn’t take anything with him when he left, but as he met Jesus, a new wardrobe awaited him, and none of it had pocket-stains.

Leaking ink and every other life-stain had been washed away by the blood of Jesus.

“Grace be unto you, and peace, from him which is, and which was, and which is to come; and from Jesus Christ… him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.” (Revelation 1:4,5)