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Hi, my name is Chenai Mbanga! Welcome to my blog! I write to encourage, inspire and empower you in growing in your spiritual life through reflections and prose. I have been writing on this blog for 5 years now, and it has been a journey! Join me as I continue my journey toward self-actualizing.❤

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    HINDSIGHT
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    My girls and I are podcasters, speaking on life, adulting, and the socio-political challenges that we see and face as young black women in today’s society. Check out our podcast!♡
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Implications



Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses" Proverbs 27:6 

**

I don’t normally find it “hard” to speak the truth to someone. I don’t mean that in a let-me-tell-this-person-about-themselves- truth.  But I mean in the sense if I have a concern and I feel it’s something that I should bring up. It’s a quality I admire in myself. But it’s a quality that is becoming challenging to exercise as I grow older. Because the truth has real-world implications of causing shifts in a person’s life, of changing friendships and relationships and of removing the veil of lies and confronting situations that you would never consider would happen to you. Or a friend.

And before I even utter a word, I find myself asking myself: why are you sharing this with the person [whom it concerns]. I had to ask myself that today. But thankfully, it isn’t to find out “dirt” or get the “scoop” of intimate details that I have not been invited to share in, or feel relieved of my own life. But it’s a consideration that I never made before in the past.  The Truth is the Truth. Does it matter why it’s being brought up? But I ask myself this question, not because I don’t think the Truth should prevail in all things, but because it’s not everyone who wants to know. Or hear it. And perhaps there’s wisdom in keeping silence. 

But lately, my silence has been muzzled by self-doubt. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is a random coincidence. Perhaps it isn’t what I think it is, and I’m only risking sounding and looking like a nutcase. These considerations have never been this weighty before. I don’t know why I am giving them room now. What am I afraid of? Of being wrong. And being right. The outcome will be whatever it is, I suppose. But I think I’m right. I’m very confident that I’m right.

Aaand that’s kind of scary right now.

 

When all else fails, I’ll pray. And hopefully get the courage to do what I must. And hopefully in finding clarity I’ll find that boldness that existed once before; not to think too much, but to speak if I am supposed to speak. And to stop considering implications. Because they are not always mine to consider.