There was a time when airline toiletries bags held a special place in my heart. They weren’t valuable in the conventional sense, but to me, they represented moments of God’s favor during my travels. Every upgrade to business class felt like an acknowledgment of His blessings—a gift I didn’t take for granted. The bags, filled with thoughtful items like socks, toothpaste, and combs, were tangible reminders of those moments.

In those days, flying frequently meant holding elite status with multiple airlines. I remember the excitement of waiting at the gate, listening for my name to be called for an upgrade. It wasn’t just about the extra legroom or recliner seats; it was the joy of feeling valued. The little toiletries bags became mementos of those times—tokens of a world that seemed to care about the details.

However, the world of travel has changed. Mergers, cutbacks, and shifting priorities turned those cherished upgrades into rarities. The bags, once thoughtfully curated, grew smaller and less meaningful. Yet, I kept collecting them. I thought of them as a way to document an era—a tangible record of how things had evolved. Each bag held a story, a memory of a trip, or a reflection of God’s hand in my journey.

When my parents went to be with the Lord in 2019 and 2021, life shifted and my perspective was reshaped.  They had left behind only a few possessions: some clothes, three well-worn Bibles, and a watch. Yet, those items carried a weight far greater than their physical form. They represented a legacy of faith, simplicity, and love—a treasure that couldn’t be measured in material terms.

Knowing what really matters in this life was reinforced during one of my regular walks in the neighborhood recently. A neighbor was unloading a truck into his garage. Curious, I paused and asked, “Are you moving out or moving more in?” My neighbor laughed and said, “These things belonged to my mother-in-law. She passed away, and we had an estate sale. What’s left, my sons and I are loading into the garage.”

He then asked, “Do you need anything?” I politely declined, and he sighed, gesturing toward the pile. “Our trash might be someone else’s treasure, but now it’s going into our garage, and my $60,000 truck will have to sit outside.” Shaking his head, he walked away to help his sons. I stood there for a moment, reflecting. I thought about how, one day, all our possessions could become burdens for someone else to sort through. I silently thanked God that my parents had left me something much greater than things to manage—they left me a legacy of faith.

That moment stayed with me. The importance of simplifying my life was underscored and I determined to hold onto what truly matters.   My collection of toiletries bags, no matter how much I thought they mattered, was just stuff. They weren’t adding value to my life or to the legacy I wanted to leave. I didn’t want my children or grandchildren burdened with unnecessary belongings or puzzled over why I had kept them.

With the help of a friend, I have started photographing and documenting the collection—capturing the memories and the stories without holding onto the physical clutter. Once this project is complete, I plan to donate the bags, if usable, to a mission house or the Salvation Army, where they can serve a practical purpose.

This isn’t just about clearing space. It’s about focusing on what truly matters. Life is not about the possessions we accumulate but the memories we create and the legacy of faith we leave behind. My parents taught me this, not only in their lives but also in their passing. They showed me that the most valuable inheritance we can leave is not things but a deep and abiding faith in God.  The scripture that comes to mind is Matthew 6:19-21 (NKJV): “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

This verse perfectly captures the lesson I have learned. Life is about storing up treasures in heaven—investing in what is eternal, not temporary. The things we leave behind should point to God’s faithfulness and love, not merely reflect a life of accumulating stuff.

As I let go of these bags, I feel a sense of peace. I’m reminded that life is about traveling light—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It’s about cherishing the journey, holding onto what is meaningful, and releasing what is not.

I hope this process leaves a lesson for my children and grandchildren. I want them to understand that life is about valuing the eternal over the temporary. The greatest treasures aren’t found in things but are the narratives and truths that point us to God’s faithfulness.

Pack light. Fly high. Hold onto what matters. Let go of what does not. This is the legacy I want to leave.