There is something startling and therapeutic and spiritually significant about closing the estate of someone who’s died. The deceased always manages to leave behind a bunch of stuff. Sometimes family members and others fight over who gets next dibs on the chore of dragging some item through life. Grandfather’s grandfather’s clock must be passed along. Or sold at auction. Often there’s a pile of money to sort out. A few times acting as executor, I’ve written checks in one sitting totally far more than my accumulated net worth. And then there’s the collection of odds and ends nobody wants. Photos of people no one can identify that were once precious to the departed one. A box filled with mementos of trips taken, diplomas earned, and awards won. Curios that caught the fancy of the one who wrote the will. Letters packed with memories and well wishes, capturing emotions that strangers cannot grasp. (I suppose there will be far fewer handwritten letters in future estates.) James 1:10 counsels the rich to boast in his humiliation. Like the flowering grass, he will pass away. James pushes us to set our hearts and minds and energies on that which stands the test of time.