There’s something about the end of a trip that makes even the strongest traveler a little sentimental. Suitcases gape open like hungry mouths, souvenirs sit in awkward piles on the bed, and no matter how carefully I fold, I know the zipper is going to fight me. But here’s the truth: I’m not just packing chocolates from Pak’nSave, or that extra sweater I swore I wouldn’t buy. I’m packing peace, the kind I found in the snow-capped mountains, in laughter with my niece and nephew, and even in the comedy of a bathroom emergency on the way home.
Packing is rarely just about clothes. It’s about deciding what comes with you and what gets left behind. Jesus put it this way: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…” (Matthew 6:19–20). My suitcase may be filled with crackers and souvenirs, but the real treasures are the memories stitched into my heart.
What We Carry Beyond Souvenirs
I’ve learned that vacations aren’t just pauses from life, they’re rehearsals for how life can feel if we let it. The quiet beauty of New Zealand’s landscapes slowed me down, but the peace I felt wasn’t confined to geography. As the psalmist reminds us, “The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.” (Psalm 29:11). Peace isn’t tied to a location. It’s a gift I can carry into LA traffic if I choose.
Philosopher Seneca once wrote, “Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.” But the key isn’t just traveling—it’s letting the change of place change you. Otherwise, you return home with a tan and a camera roll, but not much else.
Humor Along the Way
Even on the holiest-feeling days, God sneaks in reminders not to take life too seriously. Case in point: my niece’s desperate bathroom saga. We’d already left the food court when she realized she hadn’t fully “flushed out her bladder,” and suddenly every passing McDonald’s, gas station, and Domino’s looked like a mirage. By the time she surrendered to the bushes, we were howling with laughter.
That moment reminded me of what Anne Lamott said: “Laughter is carbonated holiness.” We were laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe, and in that silly, ordinary moment, heaven felt very close. Peace isn’t just found in quiet mountains or long prayers; it’s also in belly laughs that stitch families closer together.
Soul Insights
1. Peace is portable.
The temptation is to believe peace belongs to vacation, to mountain air, or to days free from deadlines. But real peace is not seasonal—it’s spiritual. Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” (John 14:27). When I choose to anchor myself in His gift, peace becomes something I can slip into my carry-on and pull out anywhere, even in Monday morning traffic.
2. Interruptions are invitations.
Laundry delays, sudden rain showers, and even bathroom emergencies—all of them shifted our day. And yet, none of them ruined it. They shaped it. Interruptions force me to loosen my grip on control and remember that God’s detours often hold the richest memories. They remind me that surrender isn’t about giving up; it’s about opening up to joy I didn’t plan.
3. Shared laughter is sacred.
It’s easy to underestimate how holy humor can be. Yet, some of the deepest bonds in life aren’t forged in serious conversations, but in tears of laughter over ridiculous moments. That car ride was more than comic relief—it was medicine for the soul. It proved that God’s joy is as present in giggles as it is in grand revelations.
4. Souvenirs fade, but stories last.
The chocolates will be eaten, the sweaters may shrink in the wash, but the memory of wandering through Auckland’s CBD in the rain, sharing dumplings, or swapping photos over spaghetti—that’s forever. Souvenirs sit on shelves. Stories live in us and get retold, reshaping the people who hear them. What I carry home matters more in memory than in material.
5. Endings are beginnings in disguise.
Packing feels like closure, but it’s really a handoff. I’m not just leaving New Zealand—I’m bringing pieces of it into my everyday life. If I let them, these moments will shape how I move forward. Every ending carries a seed, and the question is whether I’ll plant it or pack it away in the attic of my memory.
Final Thoughts
Tomorrow I’ll zip up my suitcase and board a plane back to LA. But tonight, I realize I’m carrying more than snacks and sweaters. I’m carrying peace, laughter, and a renewed sense of presence. And maybe that’s the real challenge: to keep unpacking those treasures when the mountains are far away and the pace of the city threatens to swallow them whole.
Because peace isn’t meant to be left behind; it’s meant to be lived.
Your Turn
As you step into your own transitions, whether it’s back from a trip, into a new season, or just from one ordinary day to the next, ask yourself: What am I packing into tomorrow? Choose peace. Choose laughter. Choose the treasures that last.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord
Soul Path Insights 
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