Review and Revise

A rule of life is a practice, not simply a product.

I didn’t mean to skip last week’s letter, but in the flurry of preparation for our 25^th wedding anniversary trip (3 years late), I didn’t get it written. Then, it didn’t seem like a good idea to pull my laptop from my bag on that trip and attempt something from the soaring landscapes of Banff National Park, my husband at my side. Sorry, not sorry. Here’s a picture for you.

August tends to be a reflective month for me, as we round the corner of summer and head back into the routines of the school year. I wonder if I’ll get as reflective, come August, when I’m not sending kids back to school. Maybe not. For now, though, I’m facing the task of reviewing and revising my rule of life, which I tend to do in this back-to-school season.

Reviewing and revising is the final step in the 5-step process I teach people in my Rule of Life workshops. (My next workshop is coming up on August 23^rd, and you can sign up here. Promo code: AHCF50). Reviewing and revising a rule underscores that a rule of life is a practice, not a product. In fact, I think the product, which is to say a written rule of life, almost seems secondary in importance to the regular practice of asking deeper questions in conversation with God. What matters in this season of life? What relationships beg for my investment? What habits—of body, mind, soul—might I wisely look to form? What sins and distractions should be renounced—and what is my intentional plan for doing so? What particular limits and opportunities can I notice and name, and how does this shape my sense of calling for the year ahead? Yes, I think having something written contributes to the clarity and commitment we bring to the habits and practices we’re attempting, in partnership with God, but I often see people intimidated by the effort to put into words something so consequential.

Hear again the good news of a rule of life: it adapts to the changing realities of your life.

I’ve thought a lot about how my own rule has evolved over the past four years. My first iteration, written in 2020, was a list of habits and practices I wanted to intentionally form, and these were organized around timestamps: daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, and yearly habits. I was overly ambitious with that list as you can imagine, having no real sense of my limits. In this season, I very much felt stuck with writing a realistic rule, though I did form some important habits. I dealt with my digital distractions by leaving my phone asleep in the early hours of the day. I started exercising regularly. I started making more time for friendship. I developed better criteria for social media engagement.

When I revised my rule in 2022, we had just moved back to the States from Toronto. I had a keen sense that my rule needed to express, not just the general habits and practices of a human life under the Lordship of Christ, but also the particular responsibilities of a new season and a new place. That fall, I developed the five-step process I now introduce in workshops, though at the time, I was just working through it myself in a way that made sense to me.

Here’s what I did: I opened a manilla folder (so seriously analogue!), which I divided up into columns. At the top of each column, I wrote a particular role I inhabit in the world: wife, mother, daughter, writer, etc. Then, I took a pad of Post-it notes and allowed myself to prayerfully dream with God what I might be and do in each of those roles. The post-its were a key component of this exercise. I had LOTS of ideals—and too little sobriety about the limits of my time and energy. So, after I let myself dream, I started taking some things away. I got clearer on the faithfulness God was calling me to: settling our boys into a new school, supporting our college-aged kids now further away, caring for my mother, adapting to a new rhythm of life in an American city built for the car. I named the habits and practices that supported some of my deepest desires, but I did it with a clear sense of the whole of my life. This process—of working through my desires, naming my God-given realities, and articulating faithful habits and practices—has honestly served me well. In reality, I think it’s a common-sense approach to Christian discipleship, whether or not you ever write a rule.

My 2023 version of my rule remained largely the same, although after I read this article, I could see that I needed more “vision” elements in my rule: Scriptures and quotes, for example, that would remind me of the why of my habits and practices. It’s to say that in this version, I tried being more attentive to the heart realities I wanted to see transformed by God. Yes, I could visit my mother several times a week—but could I speak kindly to her? Yes, I could review the budget with Ryan weekly—but could I grow in appreciation for his hard work for our family? These “vision” elements of my rule have provided language for me to pray more concertedly about the faithfulness I’m trying to practice and the state of my heart.

Now that it’s fall again, it’s time for another look at my rule. Later this week, I’ll spend two and a half days at a retreat center with a friend, and I’ll be asking: What’s working? What’s not working?) As far as I can tell now, what’s obviously not working is my section on work, where I’ve outlined habits and practices I’ve made little concerted effort to be faithful in. It’s most likely I’ll look to prayerfully pare down to more essential habits, even as I ask God: why am I resistant to some of these habits?

As I write here a lot about a rule of life practice, I wanted to give you a clearer sense of some ways you might approach your fall reflectively and prayerfully. And of course, I wanted to also remind you that you can sign up for a workshop. Find all the dates here, including a registration for the (virtual) workshop on August 23 from 11 am EST to 3 pm EST. Hope to see you there!