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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.

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 27/04/2026 Dana Rongione 27/04/2026

Are You Really Trusting Christ?

Throughout our years of hiking, Jason and I have encountered some...well, let's just say... Interesting river and ravine crossings. I remember standing at the edge of a narrow rope bridge one day, staring at the yawning drop beneath it and wondering who in their right mind thought that was a good idea. I could see the bridge. I knew it was there. I could even agree that it was technically "a way" across that great divide, but my knuckles were white on the railing, and my feet were not cooperating. I believed in the bridge, but I didn't yet trust it, at least not enough to march my nervous self right out to the middle of it.

The Step That Matters

That's the difference we often gloss over when we tell people, "Just believe in Jesus, and you'll be saved."

Dana Rongione 15/04/2026 Dana Rongione 15/04/2026

Now What? Finding Hope When Your Plans Fall Apart

In Acts 1, after Jesus was taken up, the disciples stood there staring into heaven until the angels asked, "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven?" The angels went on to say, "this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." Luke 24:49 also shows that this was not the end of their journey because Jesus had already told them to wait until they were "endued with power from on high."

I can just picture it. One minute, they're standing on the mount with Jesus. The next, He's gone into the clouds, and they're all doing the first-century version of standing in the grocery store parking lot asking, "Now what?" No five-step plan. No laminated ministry packet. No "Disciples' Guide to What to Do After the Ascension." Just a sky full of clouds and a heart full of questions.

Honestly, I can relate.

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.