The Habits That Don’t Happen Every Day
Tobi came back on Sunday, just like his uncle had asked. He’d actually slept the whole week, properly, for the first time in longer than he wanted to admit. He’d also tried a few of what Uncle Debo had shown him: giving the day to God before checking his phone, sitting with the Word instead of skimming it, naming specific things he was grateful for instead of a vague “thank you God.”
“It’s working,” Tobi said, settling into the same armchair as before. “Some days more than others. But it’s working.”
“That’s exactly how it should feel,” Uncle Debo said. “Now, sit. There’s more, and this part doesn’t happen daily. It happens weekly, and a few times a year. But it’s just as important.”
One Day, I Don’t Touch Any of It
“Every week,” Uncle Debo began, “I take one full day and I rest. Completely.”
Tobi shifted, already skeptical. “Uncle, I can’t afford to lose a whole day. I have too much going on.”
“That’s exactly the thinking Sabbath rest exists to break,” Uncle Debo said. “It’s not a luxury, and it’s not some legalistic rule someone invented to make life harder. It’s a rhythm God designed, because He knows what we’re not honest enough to admit ourselves, that we’re not actually indispensable. The world keeps turning when you rest. One day off declares that God is Lord, not your productivity.”
“And in a culture where everyone’s always busy,” he added, “protecting that one day is one of the most countercultural things you can do.”
Fasting Shows Me What I’m Really Attached To
“There’s another rhythm,” Uncle Debo continued. “Periodically, I fast. Sometimes from food. Sometimes from media. Sometimes from spending.”
“What does fasting actually do, Uncle? Besides making you hungry?”
Uncle Debo smiled. “It recalibrates your appetites. It shows you what you’ve quietly become dependent on, comfort, convenience, distraction, things you didn’t even realize had a grip on you until you tried to let go of them for a while. And in that space, without all the noise and comfort, you hear God more clearly.”
I Was Never Meant to Do This Alone
“None of what I’ve told you works if you try to do it by yourself,” Uncle Debo said next. “The wholeness lifestyle isn’t a solo pursuit.”
Tobi frowned. “I thought this was all personal discipline. Prayer, gratitude, work, rest. Where does community come in?”
“Right at the center of it,” Uncle Debo said. “Regular, committed participation in the community of the church, worshipping together, studying together, serving together, carrying each other’s burdens, that’s not optional. We were not designed to pursue wholeness alone. We were designed for covenant community. You can do all seven daily habits perfectly and still drift, if you’re doing them in isolation.”
My Money Follows What I Actually Believe
“Weekly, I also do something a lot of people avoid,” Uncle Debo said. “I review my finances. Income, expenses, giving, savings, all of it, briefly, every week.”
“That sounds tedious,” Tobi admitted.
“It’s a few minutes, Tobi. But those few minutes keep my money aligned with what I actually value, instead of drifting with whatever impulse shows up that week. A wholeness lifestyle manages money intentionally. Not reactively.”
Every Few Months, I Step Back and Look at the Whole Thing
“Then, a few times a year,” Uncle Debo said, “I stop and look at everything. My spiritual depth. My relationships. My physical health. My finances. My work. I ask myself honestly, where am I flourishing, and where am I drifting?”
“Why does that matter if you’re already doing the daily and weekly things?”
“Because drift is slow, Tobi. It doesn’t announce itself. You can be doing all the small habits and still slowly drift from your foundations without noticing, until one day you look up and you’re far from where you meant to be. This quarterly review is what catches it early.”
I Plan My Generosity Like I Plan Everything Else
“One more rhythm,” Uncle Debo said. “I plan my generosity as deliberately as I plan anything else in my life. I set giving goals. I identify the causes, the churches, the people I want to invest in. And when I reach a giving milestone, I celebrate it, the same way I’d celebrate any other goal.”
“Why plan it? Why not just give when you feel moved to?”
“Because generosity planned is generosity that actually happens, Tobi. Feelings are unreliable, remember? Same principle as the habits I told you last time. If I wait to feel moved, I’ll give far less than I could. If I plan it, it happens, consistently, whether I feel like it that day or not.”
None of This Is Spectacular, Tobi. That’s the Point.
Tobi sat back, taking it all in. “Uncle, none of this sounds spectacular. It’s just… small things, over and over.”
“That’s exactly right,” Uncle Debo said. “Five minutes of morning prayer looks small. A brief moment of dedicating your work looks insignificant. A short gratitude list looks too simple to matter. But compound these, daily, weekly, seasonally, over months and years, and the result is anything but small. It becomes a life shaped into the image of Christ. Peace. Purpose. Fruitfulness. Not as some theoretical ideal you read about, but as something you actually live.”
There was more Tobi could have named too, time with the people he loved, time to keep growing as a person, but he was starting to sense that Uncle Debo’s list was never meant to be exhaustive. It was meant to be a starting point.
“You didn’t come here looking for a formula, Tobi,” Uncle Debo said, watching him think it over. “You came here looking for peace. This is how you get it. Not all at once. One small, repeated choice at a time.”
Tobi didn’t have a clever response this time. He just nodded, and for the first time in a long while, felt like he finally had somewhere to start.
(There’s one more layer to this, the one underneath the habits and the rhythms. Uncle Debo isn’t finished with Tobi yet.)
