Almost nine years ago, I found myself standing in the Blantyre, Malawi, airport with my husband and young daughter, waiting for our luggage. It was hot, and sweat poured from my husband’s forehead as he lifted our bags, all 13 of them, one by one onto luggage carts. The wheels on the carts squeaked as we lined up behind other passengers waiting to pass through the formalities required to enter the country. While I thought when packing those 13 suitcases (which were an odd assortment of suitcases, boxes, and trunks) that I was living light, the stares of the other passengers at the odd assortment of boxes and suitcases on the carts said otherwise.
Once we passed through customs, we walked towards the exit through the downward-sloping surface that led to the exit. I knew we were headed for trouble when the cart picked up pace; things didn’t look good. It didn’t take much, just a small bump on the surface of the walkway, for the suitcases to be sent cascading down in front of us.
No one waiting
As usual, there was no one to meet us at the airport. This didn’t bother me as much as it used to. In fact, I think I would’ve been disturbed if, at our first landing in a city, there were people waiting for us. My mind wasn’t occupied at that moment with how we were going to get to a guest house. My mind was on the luggage that was scattered all over the floor of the terminal building. People rushed to pick it up for us; Jamie didn’t want any help because we had not yet changed money. Help doesn’t come free in most places.
We eventually exited the building and found a local minibus to drive us to a guest house. There were no seat belts, but obviously, God was faithful, and life began again. It wasn’t long until we found a house to rent, and I unpacked those 13 pieces of luggage.
Living light with 13 suitcases
It’s good that I’m not prone to hoarding things. Yes, I have a few boxes of sentimental things in my daughter’s closet in Florida (sorry, Mandy). Besides those boxes, my life’s possessions are usually limited to those 13 or so suitcases. I only need the essentials: extra contact lenses, four plastic plates, coffee cups, and some simple cutlery to start with. When you start all over, you don’t need much.
Living lightly and letting go
Living lightly, with my hands open, has become my normal. I can let go quickly because what we do requires me to be light on my feet. When we first launched out to live and work overseas, it was difficult to let go of things. Now, I can’t imagine living any other way. Clutter is disturbing to me; the family panics when I set my mind to cleaning the house. If something is not in its place, there’s an inherent danger that whatever that something is will be thrown away.
"Once you were less than nothing; now you are God’s own. Once you knew very little of God’s kindness; now your very lives have been changed by it. Dear brothers, you are only visitors here. Since your real home is in heaven, I beg you to keep away from the evil pleasures of this world; they are not for you, for they fight against your very souls." 1 Peter 2:10,11 TLB
Whenever we travel, I have learned to pack light. This is for several reasons, the first being that I don’t want to pay for extra baggage. Second, it’s cumbersome to lug bags through airports, cars, and up to the places we are visiting. I can’t be bothered. I’m always successful in finding a way to wash clothes, and you can only wear one pair of shoes at a time.
Disclaimer: Another plus of traveling light is that if my suitcase is only half full, I can go shopping to fill the other half.
Living light helps me keep things in perspective. Truth be told, we’re only visiting here anyway. I can’t take anything I accumulate with me when I enter eternity, so I might as well avoid being encumbered with too much stuff. I’ll have plenty of creature comforts when I’ve completed my journey. I won’t need those 13 pieces of luggage when I pass through heaven’s customs. I don’t think I’ll even need a passport.
