Lessons I Learned from Living in a Suitcase

The sound of a zipper closing has marked the chapters of my life. Folded clothes, familiar books, and a few personal belongings tucked inside — everything I owned reduced to what would fit within the confines of a suitcase.

For many, a suitcase signals a brief escape, a vacation, or an adventure. For my family, it has been a steady companion. Always present in the corner of a room, always reminding me that another trip lies ahead.

A suitcase is a strange teacher. It is a symbol of both freedom and loss, of possibility and impermanence. It reminds me that life is not fixed, that roots are shallow, and that goodbyes are inevitable. Yet through it, God has taught me lessons I might never have learned if my life had been bound to one place.

Home Is Not Just a Place

There is something in all of us that longs for permanence. We want a place that is “ours,” one that does not shift beneath our feet. Yet the suitcase has consistently denied us that comfort. Home has been redefined again and again: an apartment with bare walls, a borrowed bed in a friend’s house, a temporary home where nothing truly belongs to our family. 

Even now, our family is on the road again, traveling from state to state, church to church, sharing the work God has called us to in Mexico. There are days I open the shared calendar with my husband and feel the weight of it press down on me: miles upon miles, endless meetings, long car rides, and little ones who grow weary of being buckled into car seats. My heart aches for them, and I feel the exhaustion in my own bones. I long for a place to rest.

But then I remember … no place here is truly our home. If I cling too tightly to the illusion of a place that is permanent, I will miss the deeper lesson: “For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come” (Heb. 13:14 KJV). 

This is not just a truth I need to cling to myself, but one I need to teach my children … we are pilgrims, and our true home is not a house in America, nor even one in Mexico, but Christ Himself.

Traveling Light Is Sometimes Best

Suitcases are unforgiving. They allow no excess, no clinging to every possession. With each move, I have had to decide what to take and what to leave behind. Some choices were practical, others painful.

I have learned that what we could not carry was actually what set us free. The less we had to cling to, the lighter our journey became. Jesus told His disciples, “Take nothing for your journey” (Luke 9:3 KJV). He knew that our hearts often grow tied to whatever our hands hold too tightly. Sometimes it is in traveling lighter that we discover the freedom to follow Christ more fully.

The suitcase has quietly insisted that I learn to travel light (as light as possible with three growing children). It has whispered that possessions cannot anchor me nor my children, and so I have found freedom in letting go, and I rest in holding tightly only to Jesus.

God Goes With Us Everywhere

The act of carrying a suitcase is often heavy, but heavier still is the ache of uncertainty … new faces, new languages, new unknowns. It is one thing to carry belongings from one place to another. It is another to carry a soul that longs for belonging.

Through all our travels, I have found Jesus waiting for us in every new place. Whether on foreign streets where our tongues stumbled over unfamiliar words, or in airports where we felt both anonymous and exposed, His presence is unshakable.

Jesus promised, “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world” (Matt. 28:20 KJV). The moves that once unsettled us have instead become mile markers of His faithfulness. No suitcase is needed to pack His presence. He goes ahead, and He goes with us. That truth is more stabilizing than any house, and more precious than any possession.

Teaching My Children What Home Truly Means

Sometimes the hardest questions come from the smallest voices. My children have asked me, “Mama, when will we have a home again? When will we stop traveling? When can we have our toys out of storage?”

Those questions pierce deep into my mama’s heart. Because the longing for home is not just adult weariness … it is human. Little ones long for roots, for a place that does not shift beneath their feet. And in those tender moments, I am reminded: this is exactly the longing God has written into each of us.

I tell them gently what I must also tell myself … that even when beds change, toys stay packed, and journeys seem endless, our truest home is not one we can unpack here. The ache is real, but it is purposeful. We are meant to feel this longing because it points us beyond the temporary. 

“Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations.”
Psalm 90:1 KJV

What a gift, then, that even in a suitcase life, I can teach my children the deepest truth: that our home is not four walls but a Person — Christ Himself. 

Goodbyes Hurt, But They Make Heaven Sweeter

Every suitcase carries the ache of a farewell. Faces blurred with tears, embraces held a little too long, and the lingering silence of departure … these are not small wounds. 

Paul knew this grief: “And they all wept sore, and fell on Paul’s neck, and kissed him” (Acts 20:37 KJV). Goodbyes are a part of the Christian pilgrimage. They remind us that this life is one of constant parting, of goodbyes to people we deeply love, and of the painful truth that not all friendships can be sustained across oceans and time zones.

But the ache of goodbye has done something in me. It has made heaven sweeter. It has made the promise of an eternal gathering, where no suitcase will ever be packed, and no farewell will ever be spoken. Every departure stirs the hope of that final arrival.

Closing Thought

To live in a suitcase is not glamorous. It is wearisome and often lonely. Yet it is also a parable of the Christian life. We are pilgrims and travelers, never meant to set our hearts too firmly on this world. The weight of a suitcase, the ache of leaving, the impermanence of “home” — all of it is shaping me to long for eternity.

“For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”
Matthew 6:21 KJV

The suitcase that once felt like a burden has become a reminder. Each time I lift it, I remember: This world is not my home. I am only passing through. Our rest is still ahead, and our true belonging is found in our heavenly Father.