After a whole weekend in Chattanooga, TN, at a Christian Communicator’s Conference, my heart was full, but my mind was tired. Waking early and getting my husband ready on time, I thought it was a miracle. Not only did we leave early, but we were ahead of schedule. At this rate, we would make it back before sunset and have a full day to unwind before the work week began.
As the road stretched before us, we listened to Church, talked about the week, and gloated about “leaving on time.” This wasn’t unusual for me, but for my husband, who has OCD, it was a huge victory. We were both exhausted, but the good kind of exhaustion that comes from something meaningful. An overflowing spirit, clearer direction, and dreams in full steam ahead. Until 4 hours into our drive, we got a strange message from our Airbnb host that no one ever wants to read:
“Did you leave a suitcase by chance?”
When I clicked the photo, I was horrified to see our new $200 suitcase sitting in the middle of the road. Horrified, I looked at my husband and shook my head. There was no way this was our suitcase. My husband loaded it into the trunk, right? Wrong. We hadn’t known it, but somehow, our suitcase was still sitting outside our car. And, with all the organization and confidence, as we left, we left our now valuable and lonely bag behind.
After pondering the situation, we bit the bullet and asked the Airbnb host to ship our suitcase back graciously. We would pay the costs, of course, but that would save us another trek back across states. The irony of this situation is that we often don’t lose things when life is chaotic; we lose them when we think everything is handled. Sometimes, you don’t notice what’s missing until you’re already committed to the long way home and still have thousands of miles to go.
Finding Sacred Ground
Arriving home four hours past our arrival time, my husband and I were happy to be on solid ground. Yes, we were missing our suitcase, but this got me thinking: What does God teach us when the thing we forget becomes the thing we can’t stop thinking about? What happens when we believe we have all of our ducks in a row, but are missing the ducks altogether?
Mistakes happen. Luggage gets left behind all the time. But I believe this little illustration can teach us three things, especially when we don’t realize what’s missing until we’re too far in to turn around.
1. We Often Confuse Peace with Control
The morning my husband and I left Chattanooga, I felt calm. We’d packed the night before, gotten to bed on time, and meal-prepped breakfast and lunch. The funny thing about control is that we often confuse it with peace. We think that if we know all, all will go well for us. But that’s not what Scripture says. Proverbs 16:9 even insists that while it’s good and healthy to work hard and plan, “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps” (NIV).
As Christians, we often misdefine genuine trust with false security. When we realized our suitcase was missing, all the peace we felt earlier vanished in an instant. Our car did a 360 as we paused to decide whether it was cheaper to pay to ship the luggage or drive back 4 hours, then turn around and drive 8 more. We chose to pay for the shipping, but my point is this: Sometimes, as soon as we arrive at what we think is sacred and peaceful ground (in this case, believing everything was handled because we checked all the boxes), we forget that we’re not the ones in control.
There’s a temptation to believe that everything is good because we’ve done XYZ. We quickly forget that tomorrow isn’t promised and mistake preparation for protection. But peace doesn’t come from everything going right. True and everlasting peace comes from knowing that God alone remains steady even when things go wrong (and trust me, they will). I left Chattanooga feeling confident in my systems, my organization, my plans, not realizing how quickly confidence can replace trust.
2. God Doesn’t Always Prevent the Loss, But He Meets Us In It
Upon realizing that the suitcase wasn’t with us, my husband and I started making arrangements for the next week. We stopped at Walmart to get the essentials, then finished our drive home. But truth be told, we had some disappointment.
I knew the suitcase would be okay. Deep down, I prayed it would arrive for us in the next couple of days. But that trust was a little scary. This wasn’t just any suitcase, but one that contained really special clothes and shoes for me. I was also worried about money. The inconvenience for the Airbnb host and us. The embarrassment and apologies.
And yet, I was comforted by progress: How I didn’t panic the way I usually would, how I would before I was on anxiety and depression medication. How our marriage didn’t fracture under stress, but instead, we laughed about the moment. How God felt close, even in the mess, reassuring us, everything would be okay—down to our precious cargo (literally). And that, my friends, is the beautiful grace of God who cares about us and all the baggage we carry (or accidentally leave and forget outside the car).
God doesn’t always stop us from making mistakes. Remember, that’s often how we learn best. But He did soften my response to it, and that’s immense progress credited to the Holy Spirit. Sometimes refinement isn’t God fixing the situation; it’s God changing how we hold it.
3. What’s Missing Can Clarify What Actually Matters
I’m still a bit embarrassed to tell you this, but our suitcase had some expensive goods floating around inside it. It wasn’t just clothes, but shoes, jewelry, valuables, and special mementos. But you know what wasn’t in the suitcase? Each other. God. Our calling. Our peace. Because there’s a vast difference between clothes and your calling or material possessions and your peace, one is eternal. The other is worldly, and that will make all the difference depending on which you pursue.
Life continued as usual without my luggage. Just fine, to be exact. And while I missed some of those items, I knew they’d soon return. But the best news was that now, even here, suitcase missing, I didn’t come home missing what mattered most. That still existed inside me. Between my husband and me. In the love and grace of our home.
Because perhaps sometimes, God allows small losses to reveal our deeper security. To demonstrate what holds strongholds in our hearts and needs to go. To remove distractions. To focus our attention. This surely got mine. For what we carry internally matters more than what we pack externally. It always will.
We’re Not Too Late
I don’t know if you’ve ever lost luggage like this or not realized something important to you is gone until it’s too late, but I want you to know 2 things:
1. If you’re still living and breathing, right here, right now, you’re not too late. You can prioritize what truly matters, shift your heart, and trust God’s peace over your own control.
2. If you’re inviting God into these places, wait with expectancy. Our God is loving, and though He doesn’t always prevent our mistakes or losses, He helps guide us through them.
While I came home lighter than I left—physically and mentally, it’s not because I lost something, but because I learned something. And what matters now isn’t the suitcase I left in Tennessee, but what God taught me in the process. It’s not about who I was then, but who I am now.
What might God be teaching you through the thing you didn’t plan to lose?
If you find yourself coming home without a suitcase, don’t fret. You might gain a deeper awareness of where your trust really rests.
Photo Credit: ©Getty Images/ Justin Paget
