by Heather Gent I looked around the room at all the furniture I was leaving behind. Pictures. Books. My daughter's crib. My own bed. Many of my son's belongings. Everything I owned was about to fade into nothing more than a distant memory. Let it go I heard my Father whisper. I struggled, not with starting over again, but with leaving behind my books, Bibles, and Christian wall art, the plaques that had Scripture written out on them. Hanging crosses that I hung carefully throughout every home I've ever lived. My reminders of God's presence. A white piece of wood that had the word hope written across it in gold. A table cross that bore one of my favorite verses, Proverbs 3:5-6. I reasoned a hundred times that the Lord wanted me to make room for these things, but each time I tried I was quickly rebuked by the Holy Spirit within me. I didn't understand because they were my reminders of Him after all. They were, to me, sy...