2016 and the Grace of Quiet Seasons

This Is for Anyone Who Didn’t “Blow” in 2016

Shout Out to 2016

There are seasons and times that define us.

For me, 2016 is one of those years that deserves a permanent bookmark in my story.

Hello again.

If you’re back after the first gist on friendship, then I’ll assume you enjoyed it enough to return. That also means I don’t need to warn you again—I’m a storyteller, and you, dear gentle reader, might just get hooked.

So… let’s talk about 2016, shall we?

2016 was one of the years in a season that officially tested me as an adult. Life showed me why people call it life, and like a rookie, I struggled to find balance or even understand the terrain I had suddenly been thrown into.

That year was one of my silent years.

I was angry.

At people.

At circumstances.

At God.

At my parents.

Oh, I was angry.

I thought life was being unfair to me, and looking back now, I can admit that while life dealt the cards, I also played a role in how the game unfolded.

That same year, people around me were “moving forward.” Some were heading for their Youth Service year. Some had landed new jobs. Some even got married—and yes, I was the maid of honor for one of them.

Go me.

But 2016 was also the “what about me?” year.

What about me?

I felt stuck.

Stuck in a city away from my family.

Away from familiar faces.

Away from the version of myself I understood.

I built a new family where I was. I made new friends. I tried—really tried—to make the best of my situation. But quietly, intentionally, I disappeared from the lives of people who truly knew me. The ones who could see my struggle and wanted to preach hope to me.

In my head, I thought, How dare they?

How dare they speak hope when their lives looked perfect?

How dare they talk about seasons when they weren’t in mine?

I felt betrayed too. But with time, I’ve realized something uncomfortable: I felt entitled.

I was broke.

Why wouldn’t you send money when I asked?

Is it because you have it now and I don’t?

Some people withdrew from me as well. They went quiet. And that cocktail—anger, bitterness, sadness, depression—was slowly forming inside me.

What if I told you that the season 2016 belonged to molded at least half of who you’re reading from today?

In the confusion, the mess, the loss of identity, God was still at work. Quietly. Intentionally. Strategically.

He placed me in certain environments and around certain people that kept me from completely self-destructing.

What if I told you I eventually got saved through a family member of one of the people I rolled with during that period?

That’s a story for another day.

God truly has a sense of humor.

I’m sharing this now because of the #2016 trend making rounds on social media. At first, I didn’t get it. Then it clicked, and I rushed to my archives—shout out to Google Photos, always keeping me humble.

I took a trip down memory lane, and suddenly I saw it clearly: There were a thousand reasons to be thankful.

A thousand reasons to roll in gratitude.

A thousand reasons to say, “Thank You, Lord.”

Some pictures made me laugh.

Some gave me mixed emotions.

Some… I cringed.

But one thing stood out: 2016 wasn’t the end of me like I thought it was. It was the unraveling of who I am now.

There are seasons in life that are performative. You’re visible. You’re loud. The spotlight feels warm.

And then there are seasons I like to call quiet seasons.

Quiet seasons aren’t about noise or applause. They’re not glamorous. They don’t always come with achievements you can post online. But they are deeply intentional. In those seasons, you’re meant to observe more.

To learn.

To unlearn.

To relearn.

To shed who you were.

And then… to become.

Quiet seasons are not wasted seasons.

The chapter you’re in right now might be another person’s 2016. Please, be careful not to fall into the trap of comparison. Someone else’s throwback might show yachts, big names, and “secured bags,” but that is their path, their timing, their story.

Social media is full of throwbacks right now, and intentions differ. Some posts are for bragging rights. Some are sincere moments of gratitude. Either way, one thing remains true—change happened.

And if you’re tempted not to share your own because you were “in the trenches,” then you might be depriving yourself—and someone else—of the reminder that

growth doesn’t always look pretty, but it’s real.

If you’re scared to check what you looked like in 2016 or what you were up to, I encourage you to look anyway. And if all you find is growth, celebrate that.

Your baby steps matter.

You’re not who you used to be.

You’re not where you used to be.

And that counts.

If you’re currently in a season where you feel stuck, take another look at the 2016 trend. Ten years is a long time. A lot can change.

Get up.

Take pictures—of yourself, of places, of moments.

Create memories.

Your 2036 self will thank you.

The throwbacks aren’t ending.

There’s no need to rush your process.

We’re all a work in progress.

I’ll leave you with this Scripture that dropped in my spirit while writing this:

Ecclesiastes 9:11 (NKJV)

“The race is not to the swift,

Nor the battle to the strong,

Nor bread to the wise,

Nor riches to men of understanding,

Nor favor to men of skill;

But time and chance happen to them all.”

God’s got you.

And somehow… you’ve got this too.

Ok bye!