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Dana Rongione 16/10/2026 Dana Rongione 16/10/2026

Choked by the Yoke

All my life, I've been a tortoise.

I'm slow. When I do something, I do it carefully, methodically, and with extreme attention to detail. I'm not fast at anything, and I never have been. In middle school, I earned the nickname "Dead Stop." A teacher gave me that one. (Nothing says "bless your heart" like a faculty-approved nickname.)

But a strange thing happens when my schedule fills up and the demands start stacking like dirty dishes. Suddenly, I think I'm a hare. My body is still a tortoise, and my mindset is still slow and steady. Yet I feel I must zip around like the Road Runner, because surely that's the only way everything will get done. Beep beep!

On those mornings, my prayer goes something like this:

"Lord, I have so much to do today, but I know I don't have to do it alone. You are my strength. My times are in Your hands.

Dana Rongione 14/10/2026 Dana Rongione 14/10/2026

Overwhelmed and Out of Strength? How to Turn Pity into Praise

"LORD, how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, There is no help for him in God. Selah." (Psalm 3:1-2)

David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life from his own son. Absalom had stolen the hearts of the people and then the kingdom itself. David was terrified, heartbroken, and worn thin. When he spoke those first two verses, I think he meant more than the people against him. I believe he also meant his emotions, his circumstances, and the weight of everyone who had fled with him and now needed him to hold it together.

I can't say I understand being betrayed like that. But I understand the pile-on that followed. Here's a peek at what has “troubled me” and "risen up against me" lately:

Dana Rongione 02/10/2026 Dana Rongione 02/10/2026

Worry Never Sees the Plot Twist

I had the calendar memorized, not because I wanted to, but because every time I glanced at it, my heart picked up speed and my stomach tied itself into a sailor's knot.

First, a team meeting. Then a harvest service, meaning extra time on church pews, those lovely wooden torture devices designed by someone who clearly never had a back issue. Then Sunday: out the door at 8:00 a.m., two and a half hours of travel, a full day of services, and the drive home, rolling in after 8:00 p.m. Then another harvest service, more pews, and another weekend away with another long drive, an overnight stay, and yes, more pews.

Meanwhile, life refused to take a vacation. The dog still needed walking. The dishes still multiplied like rabbits. Paperwork needed filing, devotions needed writing, and events needed planning. I had been dreading it for weeks. I told myself not to, and I really tried. But my nerves, apparently, didn't get the memo.

Dana Rongione 25/09/2026 Dana Rongione 25/09/2026

When You’ve Prayed, Planted, and Still See No Fruit

I've become a bit of a field-watcher lately, and I promise it's not as strange as it sounds. As I've mentioned, there's a pasture directly behind our house here in Wales. Over the past several months, I've had a front-row seat to its entire transformation, and let me tell you, it's been quite the show.

It started out gorgeous. Tall grasses waved in the breeze like something out of a storybook, and I'd look out my window and think, Well, isn't that just lovely? It was rhythmic and calming, much like watching ocean waves. Honestly, I could have watched that field sway all day.

Then one morning, I looked out, and the grasses were gone, cut clean down. What had been lush and lovely was now dry, short, and a little sad-looking. I remember thinking, Well, that's depressing!

But the field wasn't finished with its dramatic arc. Next came the manure.

Dana Rongione 14/09/2026 Dana Rongione 14/09/2026

Can You Add That To My Cart, Lord?

This morning, Jason was baking scones (which has become a normal weekday activity in our house). When the oven timer buzzed on the Alexa app, he peeked at his golden-brown goodies and hollered, "Alexa, add two more minutes."

Now, under normal circumstances, Alexa is a fairly obedient little assistant. She usually chirps back with something like, "Two minutes added to the timer." Simple. Done. Exactly what he needed.

But this morning, Alexa apparently woke up as tired and foggy as I felt, because her response was, "I've added two minutes to the shopping list."

I'm sorry, what? You can't buy two minutes at the shop, Alexa! Believe me, if you could, I'd have a standing order.

Jason tried again. Same confused response. It took three attempts before Alexa finally caught on and actually added the time to the timer instead of the shopping list.