The year 2026 to me feels like a season of movement—of stepping forward with intention and hope.
This past week, after praying Morning Prayer II from the BCP (p. 75) and taking a quiet walk, I found myself reflecting on the power of truth-telling. Truth has the capacity to heal, to build, and to create meaningful change. Yet at the same time, truth can also stir discomfort, conflict, or disagreement. Its power cuts both ways—not only in what is said, but in how it is received.
Christ himself was the ultimate truth-teller. What draws me most to him is not only that he spoke the truth, but how He spoke it—with love, grace, humility, and deep compassion. He never separated truth from mercy. In him, intention and impact were never at odds; his intention for love shaped the way truth landed. Truth was never a weapon, but a path toward healing, repentance, and justice.
Truth is essential for justice to flourish. Still, as followers of Christ, we are called to let truth be carried by understanding and love. Our goal is not simply to be correct, but to be faithful—to seek peace while standing firm in what is right. Faithfulness asks us to consider not only our intention in speaking, but also the impact our words may have on the hearts and lives of others. Truth spoken without regard for impact can wound, even when the intention is good.
I firmly believe faith and truth are inseparable. To be faithful is to be truthful, and to be honest is to live faithfully. Yet faithfulness also calls us to responsibility—for how our truth lands, and for the care of those who receive it. As the body of Christ, we are called to embody both truth and love—not only in our relationship with God, but also in our relationships with our neighbors. And a neighbor is anyone we encounter along our journey.
There are moments when clarity is necessary—when something must be said plainly and honestly. But I am learning that intention does not end with speaking the truth; it extends into attending to its impact. Even truthful words can feel intimidating or hurtful if spoken without care, timing, or humility. Because we live in a community, I try to remain mindful of others’ dignity and lived experience. Their feelings matter to me, and so does our shared life together.
This understanding echoes the African philosophy of Ubuntu: “I am because we are.” We do not exist in isolation, but in relationships. Our words ripple outward. Therefore, truth must be spoken within the context of community—with love, grace, and humility. Grace, after all, is an unmerited gift, freely given, and it invites us to remain present when truth unsettles or challenges.
So may we speak truth to our friends, family, and neighbors. May we explain our feelings honestly, while remaining open to how our words affect others. May we rise and speak out for truth and justice—yet always with love as our intention and care for impact as our responsibility.
Speak the truth with love—the love that is transcendent and unconditional; the love that is graceful and cheerful; the love that seeks not only to be heard, but to heal.
As Ephesians 4:15 reminds us: “Speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ” (NRSVA).
Romy