I started packing my condo up on Wednesday. Thursday and Friday were spent cleaning and moving things into a U-HAUL. This morning, I’m loading my bed up and driving to Flagstaff. There are so many things scattered about the floor that I don’t really know what color my carpet is.

Since our return to Arizona, I’ve been using the spare time to breathe and readjust to my life here. It didn’t take much time. But while sorting through my belongings and placing them into the appropriate boxes, I’ve also reflected upon the past two weeks our team spent in South Africa.

The people at the displacement camps were chased out of their homes. Some were separated from their families. Others were killed.

When, and if, those people returned to their homes, they knew what the color of their floor looked like because there was nothing left.

I’ve spoken to these people. I’ve photographed their faces. I’ve recorded their words. And through their stories of sadness and struggle, you see a twinkle of hope in their eyes. The women and children smile. And they don’t stop smiling.

I hope, in the next month or two, our friend Kingston is doing (something similar) to what I am doing today: moving back home.

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