The most important part of a rule of life

After Christmas, I joined my family for a little time at the beach.  Standing on the tide’s edge early one morning, I gazed out to the rising sun, took a deep breath, and lifted my desires to God.  My yearnings were along these lines: “I have this deeply felt longing and restlessness.  What do I need to do?”  After an extended period of silence, God responded with three simple words:  “Less is more.” 

God doesn’t necessarily want me to satisfy this longing by adding more prayers, leading more retreats, meeting more people for spiritual direction, or getting involved in more charitable work or parish activity.  God wants me.  God wants to be with me in silence, intimacy, and relationship.

It’s no coincidence that the next morning, out of the thousands of words in the Daily Office and Morning Prayer, one phrase pierced my heart:  “Be still and know that I am God.”  (PS 46) 

The revelation was timely. Late December, I review the previous year.  I do a type of Ignatian examen.  Similar to a daily examen, I look instead at how God was present during not during the past day, but during the past year.   I marvel at the various ways God has directed my life. 

I then look ahead.  What type of person is God inviting me to be in the upcoming year?  What are the deepest desires God has placed in my heart?  How can I grow in my relationship with God? 

From this prayerful recollection and discernment, I revisit my rule of life.  A rule of life is simply a framework of practices that helps a person grow as an individual and foster a deeper relationship with God.  The term originated in the monastic traditions and was used to govern the activities of the community.  It’s equally valuable to all who desire to grow, especially grow in their relationship with God.  There is no set formula.  A person’s rule of life can be individual and unique to each person’s state in life. 

My rule of life includes the Liturgy of the Hours, Mass, journaling, and other devotions.  I use the rule to set boundaries on the amount of time I spend in spiritual direction and ministerial activities.  I even define “Sabbath” times, where I schedule nothing and leave myself freedom to do as I please, or go where the Spirit blows.  Exercise and spiritual reading are also part of this rule. 

After my brief encounter with God that morning, I realized that my rule is filled with ‘doing things’, but doesn’t prescribe what is most important to God:  being with Him in silence and solitude.  The deeper longing I felt as I walked down the beach that morning is really not my longing, but God’s longing for me. 

As we close out 2025 and enter 2026, take a look at your own spiritual ‘rule of life’.  Is there adequate time to ‘be still’ and know God’s presence and hear God’s voice?