If you're an ISTJ, three practices suit how you already operate: a fixed daily reading you don't renegotiate, a written record of what you've studied, and one commitment you keep for a year. None of them are exciting. All of them compound, which is the mechanism you're better at than almost anybody.
A Tree by the Water Is a Slow Argument
Psalm 1 opens the whole book with an image rather than an instruction.
"Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers" (Psalm 1:1-3).
Read what the psalm is claiming and what it isn't. There's no dramatic moment in it. The person meditates day and night, which is a description of a habit rather than an event, and the result is a tree, which is the slowest possible image of growth.
Fruit in season. Not fruit on demand, and not fruit now. A tree by a stream is drawing water on days when nothing is visibly happening, and that's the whole argument for a practice you keep when it isn't producing anything.
Practice One: Fix the Time and Stop Deciding
The first practice is to remove the daily decision entirely.
Same time, same place, same length. Ten or fifteen minutes is plenty. Write it into the day the way you'd write in anything else you've committed to, and then stop evaluating whether you feel like it, because that evaluation is the point of failure for most people and you don't have to run it.
This is the one thing this type does better than everybody else, and most devotional advice is written for people who need to be persuaded to start. You don't. You need permission to make it boring, so here it is: make it boring.
Read in order. A book at a time, start to finish, including the parts nobody quotes.
Practice Two: Keep the Record
The second practice is a notebook, and it exploits your memory for specifics.
Write the passage and two or three sentences on what it said and what you'll do about it. Nothing elaborate. The value shows up at eighteen months, when you can look back and see what you thought about a text before you'd been through what you've now been through.
It also protects against a specific failure for this type, which is reading consistently for years and never noticing that you stopped taking anything in. A blank page two days running tells you something that a completed checkbox never would.
Practice Three: One Commitment, One Year
The third is about serving, and the instruction is to do less than you're inclined to.
Pick one commitment and hold it for a year. One team, one role, one Sunday-morning job. Not four.
You will be asked for more, because you deliver and people ask the person who delivers. The discipline for this type is not persistence, which you have. It's refusing the second and third thing so the first one is done well and you're still standing in year three.
The Trap in All of This
Worth being direct about, since everything above is a system and you'll build it well.
The risk is that the record becomes the point. You'll have the notebook, the streak, the roles, and a quiet sense that God's opinion of you tracks the completeness of it. It doesn't. The reading is a means of being with him, and a week where it fell apart is not a debt.
A practical counterweight: start each session by naming something God has already done, before you get to what you're studying or what you owe. Thirty seconds. It puts the whole thing in the right order.
When the Streak Breaks
One more, because it's the moment this type is most likely to quit.
A missed fortnight, a collapsed routine, a season where the whole thing fell apart. The instinct is to treat the record as ruined and to start again in January, properly, from the beginning.
Don't rebuild it. Resume it. Open the book at the place you stopped and read the next passage today, with no compensating effort and no ceremony. The tree in Psalm 1 does not restart; it just keeps drawing water.
The consistency you have is a serious advantage and the fragility that comes with it is the one thing to guard against.
Where to Go Next
The companion piece is connecting with Jesus as an ISTJ, about Ezra, who studied it, did it, and then taught it, in that order.
For the description, what it means to be an ISTJ covers the letters and where "Logistician" came from. Everything for this type is collected here.
Fix the time, keep the notebook, hold one commitment for a year. The tree in Psalm 1 is not doing anything visible either.