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Dana Rongione 02/09/2026 Dana Rongione 02/09/2026

Stamping Out Bad Thoughts

Some mornings, my mind resembles the world's least efficient office. I sit at my desk, herbal tea nearby, Bible open, and a stack of unruly papers piles up in front of me. Except the papers are not bills, book ideas, or that mysterious note I wrote three weeks ago that now appears to say "Buy turnips for dragon." No, the papers are thoughts.

"You are failing."

"You will always be sick and will never get better."

"You have messed up too much."

"God has forgotten you."

"This situation is impossible."

"No one wants to read your pathetic attempts at writing."

And suddenly, my imaginary office has an urgent backlog.

As I considered Philippians 4:8 this morning, my mind brought up an amusing image (as it tends to do). I pictured a giant, old-fashioned librarian's red rubber stamp.

Dana Rongione 29/08/2026 Dana Rongione 29/08/2026

Why Does That Old Memory Make Me Feel So Guilty?

A memory hit me out of nowhere the other day, so vivid I could practically smell it. Fifteen, maybe twenty years ago, Jason and I were riding in his Bronco, headed out to cut firewood. Not exactly a glamorous errand, I know. But the weather was perfectly crisp, the conversation easy and light, and we stopped at a convenience store to grab energy drinks and candy bars like we were fueling up for a grand adventure instead of, well, chainsaws and sweat.

We laughed the whole way there. I remember feeling completely carefree, like nothing in the world could touch us. It was the image of a young, happy couple with nothing weighing them down.

That memory played on repeat in my mind for days, sweet and golden and warm.

Until it wasn't.

Suddenly, it started to feel less like a treasured keepsake and more like a prosecutor's exhibit.

Dana Rongione 27/07/2026 Dana Rongione 27/07/2026

Why the Small Stuff Keeps Stealing Your Joy (and How to Stop It)

Y'all, I have officially entered my Egyptian plague era. Between the summer heat and the freshly fertilized field behind us, our house has become Fly Central. I'm not talking about the occasional buzzer that sneaks in when someone leaves the door open too long. I'm talking about dozens, maybe more. Scores of flies, staging what I can only assume is an aerial invasion with zero regard for personal space or human dignity.

Last night, as I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I stared up at my white ceiling, and it looked exactly like the night sky in reverse, with black dots scattered across a pale backdrop instead of white stars twinkling in the dark. Except stars are peaceful. These little dots buzzed, dive-bombed my face, and had the nerve to land on my poor dog Tess while she was just trying to nap. There is no escaping them. None. I've swatted, sprayed, and vacuumed, and still they persist, multiplying like there's no tomorrow.

Dana Rongione 19/06/2026 Dana Rongione 19/06/2026

Is Biblical Meditation Really Just Wasting Time?

Some mornings, if you peeked into the quiet corner of my office, you might think I was doing nothing at all. My Bible would be open beside me, my mug of tea growing cold, and I would just be staring out the window.

From the outside, it looks suspiciously like laziness. But inside, my mind is bustling. I'm turning a verse over and over, like a jeweler turning a diamond in the light. I've read it, studied it, maybe even looked up a few words, but the real work begins when I stop "doing" and start meditating.

The world says meditation is about emptying the mind, clearing out thoughts like you're sweeping a cluttered floor. But the Bible paints a completely different picture. The blessed man "delight[s] in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night." That is not an empty mind. That is a very full one.

Dana Rongione 29/09/2025 Dana Rongione 29/09/2025

Marble Troubles, Sandy Blessings

Have you ever noticed how we tend to remember the negative far more vividly than the positive? I certainly have. Last week, while chatting with a friend about our past year, I found myself dwelling on the challenges like health flare-ups, ministry disappointments, and frustrating conversations. My list of troubles flowed effortlessly, while I struggled to recall specific blessings.

It struck me later that I’d been etching my trials in marble while letting my blessings wash away like footprints in the sand.

This peculiar human tendency reminds me of Joseph in the Bible. Talk about someone who could have clung to bitterness! Sold into slavery by his own brothers, falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife, and forgotten in prison by the cupbearer, Joseph had a mental museum of grievances he could have displayed.

Instead, when naming his sons, Joseph made a remarkable choice.