A Rule of Life for A Person Who Doesn't Like Rules
Before anything else: I still don’t love rules. I love Jesus. I love freedom. I love breath in my lungs and room in my soul. And for a long time, “Rule of Life” sounded like rigid structure and spiritual performance. Actually, it was more than sounding like those things – it was a reminder of my old religious past. One that was not only based on rigid legalism, but also a brand of religion that would shame and diminish any other denominational group that was different, especially High Churches…and a Rule of Life was viewed as something ‘those other religions’ would do. I needed to untangle and cut out that poor and uncharitable
But I’ve realized something: I already have a rule of life. We all do. It’s just usually unspoken; formed by urgency, distraction, exhaustion, responsibilities, coping, and whatever gets my attention most. It is the same idea: something will shape us, form us; it just depends on what we let in and what that shape will be (for me, is it culture and the noise of the world, or Christ and the peace of the Word?).
A Rule of Life isn’t about controlling myself into holiness. Nor is it a ‘holier than thou’ performance for other people. It’s about creating a trellis that helps me abide and attend—because apart from Him, I can do nothing (John 15:4–5). A Rule of Life for me looks like me choosing, gently and honestly, to set the Lord before me again (Psalm 16:8). Not perfectly. Intentionally.
So here it is: my Rule of Life for people who don’t like rules. (This is truly my 2026 Rule of Life – some of my greater details and names have been removed)
Stacy’s Rule of Life
Formed by faithful, focused attention: the Word over the World.
A trellis for abiding: presence over performance, practice over perfection.
1. Habits
Daily anchors (weekday default)
Word + Silence (morning): Time in the Word first thing — in silence — protected so you can start well. (Word over the World.)
Body/Brain before 10am: Movement + 40g protein (so meds can do their job).
Roger Couch Check-In (evening): Sit on the couch and check in: how was today, how’s the week, what’s coming, and “how are we doing?”
Minimum viable (when life is heavy/noisy)
10-minute Lectio 365 (morning reset).
Bilateral worship music (nervous system care + presence).
2) Commitments
Weekly rhythm (my “normal” week)
Mon–Sun: Start as close as possible to the weekday anchors.
Tue–Fri: Work days; evenings reserved for school/homework.
Friday evening: 1-hour writing block (protected).
Saturday: Homework (reading/writing) + housework + intentional time with Roger.
Sunday: Work morning; homework Sunday afternoon.
Sabbath in this season
Rest
Writing (life-giving, not hustle)
Silence
People you prioritize (inner-circle)
Roger: weekly dates + daily couch check-in
Ruth, Liam, Dad: weekly church together + multiple touchpoints (calls/texts/in-person check-ins)
****: monthly pampering + dinner out
*******: quarterly quality + quantity time together
3) Sacrifices
(What I give up to keep the trellis strong.)
No instant yes. Pause before committing; push for a 24-hour wait whenever possible.
Weeknights are protected. Evenings are for school + writing; if those are open, they become Roger/family time (not more obligations).
4) Warnings
My self-abandonment warning lights
Snapping/tone
No desire to communicate
Resentment
5) Return Plan
When warning lights show up:
Name it without shame: “I’m overloaded, and it’s showing up as resentment/shut-down/sharpness.”
Return to God: 10-minute Lectio 365 + bilateral worship.
Return to my body: protein + movement (especially if mornings get weird).
Repair with Roger: couch check-in + one honest sentence: “I want to be with you, I’m just maxed.”
Revisit boundaries: What did I say yes to too fast? What needs to be renegotiated?
This is my Rule of Life, one that’s allowed to be human
This framework isn’t here to prove I’m spiritually impressive. It’s here to help me abide—to stay connected to the Vine, because that’s where life is.
“Abide in me… apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:4–5)
“I have set the Lord always before me…” (Psalm 16:8)
This is not a cage.
This is a trellis.
This is me choosing to be formed on purpose.
Photo by Brittney Strange on Unsplash
