I’ve noticed that the topics I write about most are often the areas where I need the most growth. People may assume that writing about something means you’ve mastered it… but for me, it usually means God is still working on my heart there. He consistently calls me into that awareness so I can come to him sooner.
One of those areas is living on autopilot.
In the busy world we live in, I am constantly on the go, doing all the things and checking all the boxes. I have lists for everyone in my family… and, if I’m honest, even a list for my lists. Productivity comes naturally to me. But so does the inner dialogue that drives it.
“You don’t have time!” “You can rest later!” “You should…!” “You’re running late!”
When I stop and listen, I notice something about that voice… it speaks with urgency. It feels pressured. It sounds like exclamation points in my mind.
When I have a moment of awareness, I can ask myself, “Is that the voice of God guiding my day?”
If Jesus is the Prince of Peace, and the Holy Spirit is our Comforter and Advocate, would his voice sound frantic and demanding? Or would it call me into peace?
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.”
Just reading that invites my body to slow down. It calls me to pause… to breathe… to remember that I am not meant to run this day alone.
I am reminded of the Gospel story of Martha and Mary. Martha was busy tending to the responsibilities of the home, working hard to serve. Mary sat at the feet of Jesus, listening and present with him. When Martha expressed her frustration, Jesus gently responded, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.” Luke 10:41–42
It wasn’t that Martha’s work didn’t matter. It did. But Jesus was inviting her to see that presence with him must come first, even amid her responsibilities. Jesus offers the same invitation to us.
My role and responsibilities as a caregiver matter to Jesus. Many of us carry heavy loads, caring for children, supporting loved ones with disabilities and walking alongside aging parents. Even in that reality, Jesus reminds us that we are not meant to carry it alone.
In Matthew, Jesus tells us to live yoked to him; grace meets us in the work of the day when we are connected to him. The burden shifts. Not because the tasks disappear, but because we are no longer holding them by ourselves. He also reminds us that he can give us rest in him.
And yet, when I run on autopilot, I forget that. My thoughts become hurried. Judgmental. Urgent. I am learning that the voice of urgency is not the voice of God. God’s voice is steady. Peaceful. Gentle.
When I take even a small pause in my day, something shifts. In that stillness, he lifts the weight from me as I breathe in his peace. I release the pressure. I remember he is with me and within me.
And in that awareness, the exclamation points of the inner dialogue begin to fade. My thoughts soften. My body slows. My mind realigns. I am humbled by my Creator. It is a metanoia moment, a real turning from worldly urgency to divine presence that leads to a renewal of mind, as stated in Romans 12:2, “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
I do not have to be driven by pressure, but guided by the peace of God, his gentle compassion meeting me in each moment and leading me toward that renewal of mind. Like Martha, our days may be full of responsibilities that matter deeply. But like Mary, we are still invited to sit at the feet of Jesus, even if only for a moment. Perhaps it is the simple invitation for us all. God is not asking us to do more… but to abide more deeply with him in all that we do.
Gina Sternfels graduated from Immaculata High School and LSU, where she studied fine arts and psychology. She now resides on the northshore with her husband, Roland and three boys. She is passionate about disabilities as she has a son with autism and participates on the Archdiocese Commission on Persons with Disabilities. With Roland, she has been part of Catholic Engaged Encounter for many years.