When Quiet Speaks: Lessons from a Year of Reflection

In 2023, my annual word of the year was Persevere, and let me tell you, the year lived up to the challenge! For my household, 2023 will always be a year marked by health crises, financial struggles, the end of my marriage...and the revival of my writing journey. So when Quiet showed up in my meditations as the word for 2024, I felt immediate gratitude—and hope. I even joked that I didn’t care if Quiet meant a restful year or waking up deaf on January 1st; either way, I’d be thankful. What I couldn’t anticipate was just how much the simple concept of Quiet, and the deeper meaning to be found there, would shape my perspective and growth as the year passed.

All my life, I’ve struggled to control what I say, and even as I've learned to control my tongue, I still lack the power to control my facial expressions. It stems from a deep-seated value for honesty and openness; still, my determination to display those qualities has definitely backfired a time or two, and through the consequences of those times in my life, I've learned the importance of boundaries.

Maybe that's part of why Proverbs 21:23 became something of a cornerstone for me this year: “Those who guard their mouths and their tongues keep themselves from calamity.” More than just learning when to speak or stay silent, this verse was a reminder to protect my inner world, to value privacy, and to safeguard my home and my heart.

Another layer of Quiet? The acceptance of personal rejections I’ve faced because of my dream to live as a writer. Family and friends have often dismissed (or even sabotaged) my efforts, but love and service to my family and community are often the root of my deepest drive to succeed. This has been confusing, lonely, and incredibly painful—so Genesis 37:5 became another anchor in 2024:

“Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him all the more.”

Joseph’s brothers, and later, his parents, couldn’t (or wouldn't) understand the dreams he tried to share with them, and my year of Quiet reminded me that understanding and validation aren't necessary for me to move forward with what I have always seen as a calling on my life. Rejection from people I respected and valued, though painful, allowed me to lean more fully into my purpose and the God who set that purpose on me, trusting in him to fulfill his plan for me.

Joseph’s story resonates in a lot of ways. Like him, I’ve often been the black sheep of the family; moving away from toxic patterns and behaviors has cost me relationships I've been heartbroken to let go of. Still, even as recently as last week, I’ve seen evidence of that same separation protecting my daughters from the trauma I grew up in. They don’t know what it is to witness hard drug use, violent behavior, sexual abuse, or the kind of deep poverty that marked so much of my own upbringing.

The rejection and resentment I've faced has often been the result of my desire to provide a better life for my children, one where potential can be celebrated rather than stifled by dysfunction. Keeping my mind and heart focused on Quiet helped me accept that someone else's inability to understand my purpose isn't about me—and I don't need permission to move forward with what I feel called to in life.

In Joseph’s story, we’re not told whether he was bragging or simply sharing when he told his brothers (and parents) about his dreams, but his brothers' collective offense led to years of hardship for Joseph: slavery, false accusations, imprisonment. Through it all, Joseph’s journey was marked by his determination to behave with the kind of integrity and faithfulness that eventually empowered him to save the very family that sold him out. In seasons of quiet waiting and preparation, the restoration in this story fills me with hope and encouragement.

Maybe that's why I'm so excited to share that my focus word for 2025 is Restored. Joel 2:25-26 says, “So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten…You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, who has dealt wondrously with you.” Over the years, I’ve definitely faced my share of swarming locusts in terms of people and circumstances that devoured my time, energy, and joy—but the Quiet lessons of 2024 taught me to protect my inner life, to listen for (and follow) God’s direction, and to trust that He is working.

I’m stepping into this new year filled with optimism. Restoration isn’t just about reclaiming what's lost, it’s about stepping into the promise of hope, trusting that a foundation of Quiet strength and steady Perseverance will lead to visible growth and the kind of success I can make a difference with. Like Joseph, I’m trusting that even the hardest seasons prepare us for blessings ahead.

As we close this year and turn toward the next, I invite you to reflect on your own lessons from 2024 and dreams for 2025. Have you had similar seasons of Quiet? If you're in one right now, what might Restoration look like in your life? If you've chosen a word, verse, or goal of some kind for the coming year, I'd love for you to share in the comments—and until next week, I pray you...