We moved this summer. We moved before our house was completely ready, but we were graciously allowed to store all of our things in a room in the house that we now call home. We have a large front room where everything was stored. Stacked to the ceiling of this one room was almost everything that we own. Every time we brought another load in I saw the room and the stacks. All I could think was, “There it is, my life in boxes.” Then I caught myself and reminded myself and I knew the truth: that room is not my life. That room is stacks of stuff: furniture, clothes, books, shoes, pictures, dishes, etc. My husband and my kids are not stacked in a room. My faith and my heart aren’t stacked in a room. My life is not in boxes, my life is not my stuff.