You are different now; I don’t know how to explain it. There is something about you that has shifted. I’m not quite sure how to place it. There is a strength in you that was not there a couple of months ago. You’re still the same, but you are different. What is going on? What are you reading? Which exercise are you doing? Have you made new friends? I can't quite put my finger on it. I know you said your mind has been in a fog for a while, and things haven't been quite right. But you've encouraged me even when you couldn't encourage yourself. You listened.

 I admire your courage to make sense of yourself from the inside out. You make me want to be better even though I am afraid and unsure. I have watched you conquer even as you were inwardly trembling, but outwardly so, so brave. Stoic. Immoveable. I hate to admit it, but I felt judged by you once, but I misunderstood you; the wounds of a friend can be trusted but an enemy multiplies kisses. You have always been honest with me, even when it hurt, and more so when I did not want to hear it. You’ve always been consistent. I can always count on your words to be real, and frank, not to do me harm, but to wake me up and inspire me to be responsible. You bring a sense of peace in the midst of the chaos. I know that if I fall you are there to lift me up. You give me a sense of certainty I haven't felt in a while. Even in your imperfection you keep me steady. You are the same, but you are different now.

"Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another." |Proverbs 27:17|

...for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.|Proverbs 1:8|

It is said:

Wisdom is a woman. And woman, you are wisdom.

You are not the wisdom of this world, which speaks one thing today, and next season perishes. You are not the wisdom of this age, borne in science and reason, feelings and common sense. 

Woman, you hold in you a contradiction that perplexes me. You suffer long and hard, with the name of the Lord on your lips. Even when you are surrounded by chaos and confusion, deceit and betrayal, you lift your head in defiance, drawing on the cistern of a heaven that seems illusive most days.

And yet I see it revitalizing you, empowering you, strengthening you. 

It is said:

…the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.

Heaven kept its promise.

Your submissiveness and mercy is god-like, drawing confusion and misunderstanding. It is foolishness to the world, foolishness to me. But you continue to soar like an eagle above clouds saturated with water and flashing lightning. The rain pours down like a flood; but your crops hold strong and you continually produce good fruit. 

You look well to the ways of your household…you eat not the bread of idleness.

The work of your hands has sustained many; your hands have woven great tapestries that stretch across continents. 

Out of the overflow of your heart springs wisdom;

Strength and honour are your clothing.

You are a wife of noble character, one who surpasses every other woman.

You are mighty, and worthy to be praised. 

You are that proverbs 31 that is commanded of every Christian woman.

You are more precious than rubies. 

Wisdom is otherworldly. 

It cuts through confusion and chaos, and establishes peace and security. It sustains. It stands mighty like a pillar, a strong tower; its majesty felt, rarely seen. 

Woman, you are greatly to be praised.

You are wisdom, truly heaven-sent. 

**Chenai Mbanga**

who you are.

is not what you are doing.

what you are doing

is

being

someone else.

--architecture

|salt, nayyirah waheed|

*** 

For the longest time, I was asking myself, if I am being someone else, then who am I? And it triggered a journey that is peeling away fear and confusion. I’m like a camera lens coming into focus. I’m embracing the fact that I, too, am an architect, co-designing, and developing my life, in the process of becoming what I and the builder envision. 

Day by day, little by little, I am designing my life intentionally, being reminded to design and build authentically, and shed the skin of being someone else. 

Reading some of this poetry has unveiled within me my own poetry that I have titled Hindsight. And I am excited to share it with you.  In writing Hindsight, I learned that I must change my perspective of who I am. I am a strong, fortified city, whose architect and builder is God. I am no longer groping in the dark, being someone else. I am finally on the right path, becoming the woman I am supposed to be.

*****

An Excerpt from my upcoming book Hindsight!

Chenai

I only asked that we pray together. Because I don’t know what else we can do. I leave the house feeling unsafe. Worse off, when I see you leave, because I don’t know if you’ll come back. It has been like this for a while; the gunshots late at night, the jostling, and the sounds of feet slapping hard on the pavement. The swearing. Sometimes the sirens. It became routine. But now it’s different. Jackie’s son is gone. Tamar's daughter is gone.  I don’t want to lose you too. Because I am deathly afraid. The protests come; I know you went. You were angry that I didn’t go with you. But I don’t think you understand how I feel; how dead I am inside, and how I desperately –everyday—I try to light a fire in me; to have hope. I tell myself have hope. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow it’ll get better. One day you will smile again. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what else to believe. I don’t even know if there’s anyone on the other side of my prayers. It feels cold everywhere. Just death everywhere. Hurt everywhere. And the tears don’t stop. And the anger won’t stop. And the sadness burrows deeper and deeper….I’m just fighting to keep mine from taking root. But it’s late…too late for you. You’re like a stone, a rugged boulder covered with fissures and sediment and sharp rocks…I can’t touch you. I don’t know why I asked that we pray. I had hoped…I could get you back…make you soft again…hurt less…pain less…cry less…

Just don’t leave. Stay a little longer. Let’s hope a little longer, believe a little longer. In what?  Someone will come for us. Someone will come…maybe they will come…they have to come… How are we ever gonna not hurt if no one comes….

Please stay. Let’s pray. My voice is hoarse. My chest is heavy.And empty. And full. And painful. It hurts to breathe. But let’s say something. Anything. Maybe someone will hear. Maybe someone will send help. Maybe one day we will smile again. Hope again. Believe again.  Maybe one day we will live again.

***

Chenai Mbanga

I thought of the verse I read today, about the friends who brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus. And Jesus seeing their faith, forgave the sins of the paralyzed man. I noted that Jesus didn’t heal him, but forgave his sins.(Mark2:5) The man was paralyzed by sin.

Thinking about it now as I write this, I guess I have to stop giving up on people. Stop looking at them as unredeemable, unhealable, unfixable. Cosigning with the world that they are trash. This man’s friends brought their paralyzed friend to Jesus, because they had faith that He could heal him. It's not that I look at my friends as such; not at all. It's these ones that we label as trash, the ones who love wading in the dumpsters and end up getting labelled as such. I think within this verse, dare-I-say, ought I not to bring them also to the feet of Jesus? It's not that I have to be friends with the people I intercede for; but the actions of this man's friends... I'm still marvelling at it. They believed so fiercely that they were willing to go through the roof to get to Jesus for their friend to receive healing. 

 Our sin separates us from God. Jesus didn’t endure the crucifixion because Heaven got tedious. That blood shed is strong enough to reach even the most foul of the trash we despise. And I know this, yet it’s still frustrating to exist with such people. But that’s arrogant, as though once upon a time my actions weren’t foul before the Lord. Anyway, what I am getting at is that from this verse, I am reminded by God that my faith can bring a person’s deliverance. My persistence, focus and trust in God and His power can change someone’s life. The friends went above and beyond, to the tune of coming through the roof to reach Jesus. It may not be everyone that I have to go through the roof for, but I can persevere in the spirit, with hope that when Jesus sees my faith, he’ll be moved to bring deliverance.   

***