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Dana Rongione 18/05/2026 Dana Rongione 18/05/2026

Is the News Stealing Your Peace?

I have a confession to make. I've never been one to watch the news or read the newspaper.

There was simply too much doom and gloom, and I figured anything important would be discussed elsewhere in my circle of friends and family. Even today, you won't find a newspaper, online news thread, or news channel in our home.

Here's the thing about the news: it isn't designed to bring you peace. The media operates on fear.

If it bleeds, it leads.

If it panics, it pays.

And so every broadcast, every headline, every breaking alert is engineered to make you feel like the sky is about to fall because scared people keep watching, and watching people keep the revenue rolling in. The twenty-four-hour news cycle doesn't care about your blood pressure. It doesn't care about your faith. And it certainly doesn't care that you're a child of the Most High God.

But God does.

Dana Rongione 15/05/2026 Dana Rongione 15/05/2026

Are You Killing Yourself Trying To Be Perfect?

I used to be the world's most dedicated perfectionist. I'm talking full-blown, no-holds-barred, sweat-through-your-shirt perfectionism. And I had Bible verses to back it up … or so I thought.

"And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men." — Colossians 3:23

I latched onto that word heartily and ran with it. Right off a cliff. In my mind, "heartily" meant perfectly. It meant excellence at every turn, spotless execution, and absolutely zero margin for error. Good enough? Not good enough. Better than good? Still not good enough. I was the woman who proofread her grocery list. Twice.

I toiled. I panicked. I cried. I expected the same impossible standard from everyone around me, too, and trust me, they were not fans of that. I was building my whole life around a perfectionism that I had somehow convinced myself was holiness.

Dana Rongione 29/04/2026 Dana Rongione 29/04/2026

Carrying Others’ Burdens Without Being Crushed

You know the feeling. Your phone rings, and even before you answer, your shoulders tense up. Somebody needs something…again. And you love them. You really do. But somewhere between the third crisis this week and the fact that you haven't slept well in days, you catch yourself wondering if maybe you're just done with it all. And then you feel guilty for thinking it.

If that's you today, friend, pull up a chair. We need to talk.

Here's the thing nobody tells you when you sign up for loving people well: compassion, if you're not careful, can crush you. Not because something is wrong with you, but because you are human, with a finite supply of strength, emotional bandwidth, and, let's be honest, patience. You were never designed to carry the weight of the world. That job was already taken.

Dana Rongione 24/04/2026 Dana Rongione 24/04/2026

God Uses Shabby Rabbits and Mute Swans

This morning, my mind wandered, which honestly isn't unusual. But this time, it wandered somewhere worth following.

I was thinking about three stories I've loved since childhood: The Ugly Duckling, The Velveteen Rabbit, and The Trumpet of the Swan. Here are three characters who had absolutely no business being the hero of anyone's story, or so the world around them thought. A gangly gray bird that didn't look like anyone else. A scruffy stuffed rabbit who was losing his button eyes and had the stuffing loved right out of him. A trumpeter swan named Louis, who couldn't make a sound and was silent in a world that communicated entirely through song.

It didn't take long to notice the thread running through all three stories. Each one of these characters was, by all outward appearances, broken. Unfit. The square peg in the round hole.

Dana Rongione 13/04/2026 Dana Rongione 13/04/2026

How To Turn on the Light When Fear Is Swooping

I have a confession to make: I am afraid of things that don't exist.

Not ghosts or monsters under the bed. I outgrew those...mostly. No, I'm talking about the imaginary monsters I construct out of thin air whenever I face a new deadline, a hard conversation, or an unexpected season of life. I can build something terrifying out of nothing, and sadly, I'm quite good at it.

Turns out, I'm in good company. Not just with other anxious humans, but with ancient settlers who looked up into the twilight sky and panicked over a little bird called the nighthawk.

By name alone, the nighthawk sounds ferocious. Something with hawk in the title ought to have razor-sharp talons, a hooked beak, and zero patience for your nonsense. Early observers watched it swooping through the dusk and slapped the most fearful label they could find on it: Hawk. Done.

The terror only grew worse from there.