When I was growing up, my mom would say, “God has a plan for you today, Katie.” Her comment had implications and truth that took decades to sink in. Family life can be monotonous. There is so much sameness played on repeat; work and sleep without much in between. And I have been feeling this reality lately.

School, errands, appointments and work fill the hours but seem like a blur at the end of the day. Afternoon coffee, phone calls and finishing homework with the kids—then I hear, “Hey Mom, what’s for dinner?” I had a meal planned, but didn’t start early enough.

“You guys ate dinner last night, do you really need to do it again?”

My husband tosses his keys on the counter, and together we take on the evening. Pray with the crew before we say goodnight, then handle questions that compel them to get out of bed. We manage 20 minutes of exhausted conversation before hitting the sack so we can wake up and do it all again.

Sometimes, at the end of the day, I can’t fathom getting up to run through the same motions for the thousandth time, and I get a tinge of rebellion amid our repetitive life. On one of my hardest mornings, I waved goodbye to Andrew from the front porch and noticed a plane soar overhead. I wept quietly as I walked back inside because I wished so painfully that I was on it, wherever it was going. Caught up in myself, the conditions were right for pining after a life drastically different from the one I elected to have, the one I know God wants for me. Is this the plan my mom mentioned so many times?

Life is repetitious and, stuck in the rut, we trudge through, hoping for a thrill or some bit of excitement to whisk us away to a place where we can catch a breath, a break or even a full movie before we drift off.

I’m diving into Divine Mercy in My Soul, the diary of St. Faustina, and came upon a passage. At once I knew it applied to those of us inclined to see more grind than glory in the day:

O life so dull and monotonous, how many treasures you contain! When I look at everything with the eyes of faith, no two hours are alike, and the dullness and monotony disappear. The grace which is given me in this hour will not be repeated in the next. It may be given me again, but it will not be the same grace. (St. Faustina, para. 62)
Praise God for our sister in Christ, St. Faustina. Enlightened by her words, I’ve recognized that my experiences of the same activities with my same, wonderful family are each unique down to the most basic of interactions. Passing my little girl in the hall, I notice the sweetness of her freckles. My husband’s frequent gesture of bringing me coffee strikes me as generous instead of expected. Kneeling during the Consecration in Mass, I’m struck by the True Presence. My Lord and my God.

When we seek the Lord in our drudge, it’s no longer a drudge. In His mercy, Jesus offers us countless graces, not to survive the day, but to live it fully and with joy. Every single day is already good because it is divinely fashioned and we were intended to exist in it by One Whose intentions are for our benefit.

The life in Christ is never inherently dull. Routine will remain, but with our minds open to the Lord’s ever-newness, we can thrill in the monotony. God has a plan for you today, and it contains no shortage of grace and wonder found in the often overlooked details of our vocations.

Katie Sciba is a national speaker and Catholic Press Award- winning columnist. Katie has been married for 14 years and is blessed with six children.

This article appeared in the October 2023 edition of The Catholic Telegraph Magazine. For your complimentary subscription, click here.