The Rhythm of Spiritual Disciplines

For the next five* weeks, we're going to study rhythms. A rhythm is a discipline, something repeated, something that exists on a cycle. An intentional practice.

All of us already have practices, but many of them aren't intentional. A big part of living faithfully is learning to be deliberate about our rhythms: our disciplines, our habits, our practices.

Each month in this study, we'll focus on one rhythm: teaching, followed by concrete practices that flow from it, and then a mindset to carry as you apply it. Today we start with individual rhythms, because this is where you have the most control.

There are many areas of life where you might want better rhythms but don't have the authority to establish them. This isn't one of those areas. As an individual, you can decide to be rooted in the Word, prayer, and praise. Developing a steady rhythm of all three is foundational to spiritual vitality.

1 Timothy 4:7–8 says: "Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come."

Paul begins with a no: "Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths." There are things in our lives that have to be cut out, things that sneak in and grab our attention. Things that are irreverent, not shaped by the fear of God, and things that are silly in the sense of being empty and unproductive. Endless scrolling. Fantasizing about a different house on Zillow. Living mentally somewhere other than where God has actually placed you. Some of these things may have a place in limited proportion, but Paul's warning is clear: don't let them shape your life.

But Scripture never just tells us what to turn away from. A no always implies a yes. Repentance is a turning from one thing to another. So Paul continues: "Rather, train yourself for godliness."

Think of training the way a gym circuit works. You move from station to station, legs, chest, back, working through the whole body several times a week, not to become an elite athlete, but to maintain strength over the long haul. Paul says bodily training has value. It helps you think clearly, move well, get things done. The Bible does not despise physical care. But when we're talking about priorities, training for godliness outweighs it. Why? Because godliness has value in every way. It shapes how you think, how you relate to people, how you handle money, how you interpret suffering. And it also prepares you for the life to come. Training in godliness forms real spiritual wisdom: the ability to understand God's Word and apply it to the whole of life.

Training is repetitive. It happens over time. And God has built repetition and cycles into the world itself: day and night, weeks moving from work to Sabbath, seasons repeating year after year. Those larger rhythms rest on the foundation of smaller, individual ones.

You may not have control over your husband, your children, or many circumstances in your life. But you do have control here. You can decide to be a woman who practices spiritual discipline, who has steady, intentional rhythms of the Word, prayer, and praise. That's what Paul is commending to us.

The Word

Jesus says in Matthew 4:4 that man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God. That image is intentional. Meals are part of our daily rhythm; you don't have to schedule hunger, it shows up on its own. The Lord's Prayer teaches us to ask for our daily bread. The Word belongs in the same category. It is nourishment, sustenance, meant to be a regular, expected part of life, not an occasional add-on when things are falling apart.

For most of history, people didn't have personal Bibles. That didn't really change until Gutenberg, and even then it took a long time before Scripture was affordable and accessible to ordinary people. Feasting on the Word often meant memorization. You might not have a scroll with you, but if you hid the Word in your heart, you carried it everywhere. Psalm 119 talks about this. David didn't just read God's Word; he stored it. That still matters. There are moments, marital strain, childbirth, exhaustion, crisis, when you won't have the clarity or calm to sit down and read. In those moments, the Spirit is faithful to bring Scripture to mind. It's not abstract. It's comfort. It steadies you.

We're also uniquely blessed. We have printed Bibles, apps, audio Bibles, reading plans. I've made a lot of use of the YouVersion Bible app, especially when I can't sleep or when my mind is racing. Sometimes listening to Scripture is exactly what you need. Index cards by the sink with verses written on them work, too. You see them often enough while washing dishes that they start to stick.

There is no single right Bible reading plan. The right plan is the one that actually gets the Word into your life on a near-daily basis. Try a few approaches. Adjust when needed. Be honest about what works for you right now. And don't be discouraged. Everyone struggles with consistency, everyone finds memorization hard. What matters is that the Word is treated like daily bread: something you return to again and again, because you know you can't live well without it.

Prayer

Prayer is commanded by Scripture. Paul tells us to pray without ceasing. Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, doesn't just tell us to pray; he teaches us how. The Ten Commandments, the Apostles' Creed, and the Lord's Prayer have always been standard parts of Christian discipleship; the *Institutes of the Christian Religion* is organized around them. Christians for centuries have structured their faith and practice this way. These are things worth working into your life.

A lot of people struggle with prayer. Many don't know how. Others feel awkward or self-conscious, especially praying out loud. That's normal. Jesus goes out of his way to teach us how, and Paul and the rest of the New Testament repeatedly exhort believers to pray, because left to ourselves, prayer is something we neglect.

Prayer is closely connected to the Word. The Lord's Prayer is an outline. You can take each petition and let it shape your prayers. When you pray, "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name," you pause and reflect on God's greatness: his holiness, his transcendence, his mercy, his kindness. You dwell there. Then you move through the rest of the prayer the same way. You're not rushing; you're letting Scripture guide your conversation with God.

Another helpful model is the acronym ACTS: Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication. Adoration is praising God for who he is. Confession is honestly naming your sins and asking forgiveness. Thanksgiving is thanking God for his mercies, forgiveness, family, church, health, daily provision. Supplication is asking for help: wisdom, strength, patience, guidance with children, work, difficult decisions. It's simple, but it's effective. When I taught it to my older boys when they were little, Caedmon used to inform me that ACTS stood for Adoration, 'Fession, Thanksgiving, Supplication.

Don't get hung up on length. Five minutes or an hour, none of that is the point. The point is that you're doing it. You might use the same structure every day, or switch things up. Scripture gives us multiple models for a reason. When you don't know what to pray, pray the words of Scripture itself. God is not offended when you give his words back to him, as long as you mean them from the heart.

The Westminster Shorter Catechism defines prayer this way: "Prayer is an offering up of our desires unto God, for things agreeable to His will, in the name of Christ, with confession of our sins, and thankful acknowledgment of His mercies." Talking to God. Not teaching. Not impressing. When praying with a group, a single sentence is fine. Several sentences are fine. The length doesn't matter.

I'll mention again the app PrayerMate. You can make lists of different things to pray about, set reminders around mealtimes or whenever works for you, and the app spreads your lists throughout the week so you pray through them steadily. Currently I have lists for biblical prayers, homeschool morning time, my children, East River Church, and a few others. I'm happy to share some of those with you to get you started.

Praise

The last discipline is praise, by which I mean singing to the Lord. You can sing out loud or quietly in your mind. Both count. Making this a practice is often easier than people expect, especially when it starts with listening: a song playing while you hum along, drive, clean, or work. A practical starting point is building a playlist of solid hymns or Scripture-based songs on Spotify. In our family we're also big fans of the Trinity Hymnal. It's not cheap new, but used copies are easy to find, and if you don't know the tunes, most are on YouTube.

Praise joins the other two disciplines in a particular way. It's Scripture's truth sung back to God: declaring truth and directing it Godward. Just because it's musical doesn't mean it isn't prayer. It's also a powerful tool for memorization. My husband memorized the Apostles' Creed by singing *Creed* by Rich Mullins. Once it's set to music, it sticks. It's there when you need it.

So build these things into your life: a simple Bible-reading rhythm, a workable prayer structure, singing God's truth throughout the day. Some of the weight you carry gets released simply by singing, songs of repentance, songs of sorrow, songs of joy, songs of hope. When you build these rhythms into your own life, they spill over. Children see their mother reading Scripture, praying, singing. Sisters see sisters doing it. Whatever stage of life you're in, the benefits don't stop with you. God uses ordinary, repeated faithfulness to shape whole households.

Editor's Note: This was my attempt to cut my wife's teaching transcript and notes by two-thirds to a size people might actually read online. I did my best to retain all her major points, illustrations, and applications. *We are posting these out of original order. We will post the entire unedited piece later this year.