Rhythm of Life

Beloved in Christ,

I have been reading John Mark Comer’s book “Practicing the Way”, which the Bishop recommended earlier this summer. In this book, Comer frames up a process for what it looks like to live your life as an apprentice to Jesus, which he states simply as: to be with Jesus, to become like Jesus, and do as Jesus did.

The crux of the process is establishing a rule of life. Apprenticing to Jesus doesn’t happen by chance or by good intention, but through a series of choices that leave space for the Holy Spirit and that draw us nearer to the person and presence of God.

While I don’t hate rules (I wouldn’t be your Canon for Operations if I did), I’ve appreciated the mental slip that I’ve had when contemplating the recommendations from the book. Instead of thinking of it as a rule of life, I’ve found myself mentally referring to it as a rhythm of life.

The more I’ve thought about it, I’ve come to really appreciate the switch from rule to rhythm. To me, rhythm acknowledges the beat and tempo of life. Each day has its tempo, as does each week and each season. 

So, if there is variability in the tempo of my life, then, in consequence, could there also be variability in my rhythm of life? Might my rhythm be able, and, in fact, need, to change in accordance with the tempo of the day and season?

As a partner, as a mom of young kids, as someone who works a beautiful and demanding job and as someone who has committed to cultivating community, it would be really easy to tell myself the story that I’m too busy to follow any rhythm other than the one laid out for me by the rigors of cold, hard logistics.

But, if I’ve established a rhythm, the question is not IF, but rather, HOW, in this season, I practice the set of behaviors that I know tether me to the living God and ground me in the power of the promises that formed the world and created me.

For me, these rhythms involve grounding, movement, and reflection. 

I spend my morning grounding in prayer. Based on the tempo of life, sometimes that means I’m journaling, sometimes that means I’m dwelling in morning prayer, sometimes that means I’m reflecting on scripture, and sometimes that means I’m reading.

I always find time in my day for movement. It's what pushes me from being a brain with a body to embracing a fully embodied existence. Sometimes that means a morning run, sometimes that means a walk over lunch, sometimes that means I bring my yoga mat to whatever hotel I may be staying at as I visit faith communities around the diocese.

And I always close my evening with stretching and reflection. It’s a way for me to wring out the stress and tension of the day that can lodge itself deep into my body, while also giving myself the gift of at least a few minutes of quiet reflection to notice what lifted my spirits during the day, and what felt hard, and to welcome God’s spirit and grace into it all.

I wonder what your rhythm of life needs to be as you listen to the tempo of your day, the tempo of the season you find yourself in? What practices keep you tethered to and reminded of who and whose you are? My prayer is that you find a rhythm that feels like a delight and a lifting of your soul.

Grace and Peace,

Canon Kelsey Schuster
Chief of Staff and Canon for Operations