This Sunday, Aug. 10, the Archdiocese of Omaha will be hosting a 10:30 a.m. Marriage Celebration Mass at St. Cecilia Cathedral, 701 N. 40th St. in Omaha. All are invited. A livestream of the Mass will be available on Archomaha.org. The following commentary by writer Katie Sciba helps recognize the beauty and Christian witness of sacramental marriage. Sciba is a national speaker and an eleven-time Catholic Press Award winner. She and her husband have been married since 2008, are blessed with seven children and live in Papillion.
When I met my husband there was something fantastically different about him. I was surrounded by faithful friends, each unreservedly devout, but Andrew’s closeness with Christ was contagious.
When we dated long-distance, I prayed the Rosary at the same time he did every day, just to feel less distant and more connected through prayer. It had a transformative effect on my soul. There was a grace in our relationship that took me further up and further in with my own love for the Lord. So when he popped the question, the answer was as clear as the diamond on my finger. If dating Andrew brought stronger devotion to Christ, then marriage with him was my path to being with Christ for eternity.
The grace from those early days became essential, especially when it came to being merciful with each other. I learned that a rudimentary definition of mercy is when the capable act for the incapable. It’s remarkable, isn’t it, how marriage gives you the chance to show mercy every single day, like when I can’t reach something in the kitchen, but Andrew does from his lofty 6’4” stature.
More seriously, there was the time I racked up a small debt, and my husband, who could have been upset, said we would handle it together. When the job that made him miserable just about broke him, I wrote him a check from our emergency fund that started the business he’s still running. Every time he tugged me out of bed when I was pregnant, every time we’ve forgiven each other, we depended entirely on the Lord’s strength to help each other along.
“Hey, good news!” I announced to Andrew. “I figured out what marriage is.”
He raised his brow in amused curiosity, “I’m looking forward to hearing this.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I started. “And neither am I.”
That’s what Catholic marriage is. We stay and help each other along on a heavenward course in circumstances of varying gravity, tugging each other toward Jesus while doing our best impressions of His mercy. It’s a lot. I told him after 17 years of for better or worse, we have concrete evidence that we’re both here to stay; not like the flatware we got for our wedding, but the same way the Lord stays with us. His obvious presence in our beginning, and in every instance of support since, gives us confidence that we’ll have countless more stories of grace and mercy for at least another 17 years.
Andrew and Katie Sciba are pictured while on their honeymoon 17 years ago. COURTESY PHOTO
Commentary
My marriage is a story of mercy
August 7, 2025
This Sunday, Aug. 10, the Archdiocese of Omaha will be hosting a 10:30 a.m. Marriage Celebration Mass at St. Cecilia Cathedral, 701 N. 40th St. in Omaha. All are invited. A livestream of the Mass will be available on Archomaha.org. The following commentary by writer Katie Sciba helps recognize the beauty and Christian witness of sacramental marriage. Sciba is a national speaker and an eleven-time Catholic Press Award winner. She and her husband have been married since 2008, are blessed with seven children and live in Papillion.
When I met my husband there was something fantastically different about him. I was surrounded by faithful friends, each unreservedly devout, but Andrew’s closeness with Christ was contagious.
When we dated long-distance, I prayed the Rosary at the same time he did every day, just to feel less distant and more connected through prayer. It had a transformative effect on my soul. There was a grace in our relationship that took me further up and further in with my own love for the Lord. So when he popped the question, the answer was as clear as the diamond on my finger. If dating Andrew brought stronger devotion to Christ, then marriage with him was my path to being with Christ for eternity.
The grace from those early days became essential, especially when it came to being merciful with each other. I learned that a rudimentary definition of mercy is when the capable act for the incapable. It’s remarkable, isn’t it, how marriage gives you the chance to show mercy every single day, like when I can’t reach something in the kitchen, but Andrew does from his lofty 6’4” stature.
More seriously, there was the time I racked up a small debt, and my husband, who could have been upset, said we would handle it together. When the job that made him miserable just about broke him, I wrote him a check from our emergency fund that started the business he’s still running. Every time he tugged me out of bed when I was pregnant, every time we’ve forgiven each other, we depended entirely on the Lord’s strength to help each other along.
“Hey, good news!” I announced to Andrew. “I figured out what marriage is.”
He raised his brow in amused curiosity, “I’m looking forward to hearing this.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I started. “And neither am I.”
That’s what Catholic marriage is. We stay and help each other along on a heavenward course in circumstances of varying gravity, tugging each other toward Jesus while doing our best impressions of His mercy. It’s a lot. I told him after 17 years of for better or worse, we have concrete evidence that we’re both here to stay; not like the flatware we got for our wedding, but the same way the Lord stays with us. His obvious presence in our beginning, and in every instance of support since, gives us confidence that we’ll have countless more stories of grace and mercy for at least another 17 years.