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Distraction, Deadly Darts of the Devil, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione Distraction, Deadly Darts of the Devil, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione

What Can a Greyhound Teach You About Keeping Your Eyes on What Matters?

Over the next few weeks, I want to introduce you to one of my new favorite creatures, the greyhound. Now, before you picture a bus hurtling down the motorway, let me paint you a different picture. The greyhound is a dog breed unlike any other. They are elegant, ancient, and surprisingly full of spiritual wisdom. (Yes, I said spiritual wisdom. Just trust me on this one.)

This slender, noble dog has been around since the days of the pharaohs. In fact, greyhounds are believed to be among the oldest breeds on earth, with references dating back to ancient Egypt. This week, we are going to look at three remarkable characteristics of this dog that I believe the Lord wants to use to teach us something. Today, we begin with the one that may be the most convicting of all.

The greyhound has extraordinary eyesight, arguably the best of any dog breed.

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Anxiety, fear, Deadly Darts of the Devil, Rise Up and Build, Peace, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione Anxiety, fear, Deadly Darts of the Devil, Rise Up and Build, Peace, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione

Are You Sleeping Through the Night?

My smartwatch and I have a complicated relationship.

Every morning, I roll over, bleary-eyed, and check my sleep score. And every morning, that little device has the nerve to tell me exactly how badly I failed at something I've been doing my whole life: sleeping. Honestly, you'd think I'd have gotten the hang of it by now.

Here's how the scoring works. I can earn 50 points for getting a full 8 hours. I can earn 30 more if I go to bed at my set bedtime of 9 p.m. And I can earn up to 20 points based on how many times I wake up during the night, not just a little shift or a sigh, but a full-on, heart-rate-changing, get-out-of-bed kind of awakening.

That last category? That's where things get embarrassing.

On more than one occasion, I have scored a big, fat zero on my interruption score. Zero! You know what that means?

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Reaching Out To Others, Spiritual Growth, spiritual housecleaning, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione Reaching Out To Others, Spiritual Growth, spiritual housecleaning, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione

Are You Walking Past Your Miracle?

Picture this: a room full of lovely ladies, a painting lesson in full swing, and a punch table front and center. My dear ministry partner had worked hard to create not one, but two delightful punch options for our Community Ladies' Luncheon last Saturday. She blended, stirred, and taste-tested with the dedication of a seasoned chef. And the result? One punch turned the most gorgeous shade of coral you've ever seen. It was bright, cheerful, and practically hollering, "Come drink me!" Every woman in the room floated toward it like a bee to a flower.

The other punch? Oh, bless its heart. Somewhere in the blending process, the colors had a disagreement, and what emerged was a murky, grayish concoction that looked—and I say this with all the tenderness I can muster—exactly like dirty mop water. Nobody wanted anything to do with it.

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Comfort, Hope, Spiritual Warfare, Life's Journey, Encouragement Dana Rongione Comfort, Hope, Spiritual Warfare, Life's Journey, Encouragement Dana Rongione

When Life Gets Squishy

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

My husband and I had set out for a walk, a perfectly reasonable and wholesome activity. Somewhere along the way, we decided to take the shortcut across the pasture. How bad could it be? Famous last words. After all, we should have known better. We live in Wales, where the rain doesn't just fall; it moves in, unpacks its bags, and stays for weeks.

We hadn't taken more than a few steps into that field before the trouble started. The ground, which had looked solid a few steps away from the gate, was anything but. With every step across that field, our boots sank into the soft, saturated earth with a noise that can only be described as squishy. The mud grabbed at our feet like it had a personal vendetta.

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