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Dana Rongione 22/07/2026 Dana Rongione 22/07/2026

I'm Doing Everything Right, So Why Do I Still Feel Behind?

Many years ago, Jason and I decided to tackle the Natureland Trust Trail at Caesars Head. I pictured a pleasant woodland stroll with maybe a stream, some birdsong, and a nice photo opportunity or two. What I got instead was 5.8 miles of "very strenuous" terrain that had me telling my husband, in complete seriousness, "Just leave me here. Save yourself."

I had done some research beforehand. I knew the trail existed. I knew its length. I knew people had hiked it successfully. I even packed water and wore my best hiking shoes. And yet, somewhere around mile three, blisters started to form, and my knees began to scream. I remember thinking, Why does this feel so much harder than I expected? I did everything right. I wore the appropriate clothing. I had all the proper gear. Yet, I still wondered if I was going to die on that trail.

Dana Rongione 06/07/2026 Dana Rongione 06/07/2026

Faithful in the Shadows

There are days when I look at my life and wonder if any of it matters.

I'm not talking about a dramatic crisis of faith. I'm talking about the quiet, creeping question that slips in on an ordinary Wednesday when nobody's reading my blog, nobody's buying my books, and our Bible study only has four ladies in attendance.

Is this really making any difference? Am I doing anything that truly matters?

In my newest book, Hope Refined, my character Merlin wrestles with this very thing. He's lived for decades, faithfully following and serving, yet he looks back and sees what feels like a long corridor of nothing.

No great victories.

No world-shaking moments.

Just years of small, quiet, unseen faithfulness. And he wonders if he's wasted it all.

And then Jesus reminds him of the seven thousand.

Dana Rongione 29/05/2026 Dana Rongione 29/05/2026

How Do I Keep Going When the Bullies Won’t Quit?

Have you ever committed to serving the Lord, only to feel as though all the trouble in the world suddenly found your address? You commit to reading your Bible, and your phone is inundated with distractions. You step out to serve, and somebody criticizes. You finally feel like you're making progress, and suddenly, discouragement, drama, or "bullies" pop up out of nowhere.

Nehemiah could relate. As the walls of Jerusalem started going up, the enemies started speaking up. Sanballat, Tobiah, and Geshem used mockery, threats, rumors, and trickery to stop the work. They mocked the Jews as weak. They suggested the wall was so flimsy that even a fox could knock it down. They plotted sneak attacks. They tried to lure Nehemiah away for a "meeting" that was really a trap.

On top of that, the people themselves grew weary. The rubble seemed endless. Their strength was failing. The enemies looked bigger by the day.

Dana Rongione 06/04/2026 Dana Rongione 06/04/2026

Fixing Your Eyes on the Risen Christ

Okay, real talk. Easter Sunday has come and gone. The ham has been eaten, the Easter lilies are wilting on the windowsill, and the chocolate eggs are gone (or maybe that's just at my house). The decorations are back in the bin, and life has rudely resumed its regularly scheduled programming, complete with the bills, the aches, the worries, and that one news headline that makes you want to go back to bed and pull the covers over your head.

And somewhere in the middle of all that ordinary Monday-ness, you might be wondering: Was Easter just a Sunday? Or does it mean something for right now, when my circumstances are anything but hopeful?

Oh, friend. Peter has something to say about that.

The Apostle Peter wasn't writing from a cozy armchair. He was writing to believers who were scattered, suffering, and facing very real persecution.

Dana Rongione 03/04/2026 Dana Rongione 03/04/2026

Your Easter Sunday Is On Its Way

I want you to do something for me. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine it's the darkest stretch of days the world has ever known. The sky went black in the middle of the afternoon. The earth shook. The temple veil ripped right down the middle. And the Man they had called the Son of God took His last breath on a Roman cross.

The days that followed were devastating. The disciples huddled together in a locked room, trembling behind closed doors. Peter was a wreck. John had nothing to say. The women were weeping. And two shell-shocked followers shuffling down the road to Emmaus were kicking the dust with heavy feet and mumbling to each other about how they had hoped He was the One. Past tense. Had hoped.

They had followed Him. Believed in Him. Left everything for Him. And now He was dead, sealed behind a borrowed stone, and their hope was buried right along with Him.