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Thoughts, Spiritual Warfare, Positive Life Dana Rongione Thoughts, Spiritual Warfare, Positive Life Dana Rongione

Why Does That Old Memory Make Me Feel So Guilty?

A memory hit me out of nowhere the other day, so vivid I could practically smell it. Fifteen, maybe twenty years ago, Jason and I were riding in his Bronco, headed out to cut firewood. Not exactly a glamorous errand, I know. But the weather was perfectly crisp, the conversation easy and light, and we stopped at a convenience store to grab energy drinks and candy bars like we were fueling up for a grand adventure instead of, well, chainsaws and sweat.

We laughed the whole way there. I remember feeling completely carefree, like nothing in the world could touch us. It was the image of a young, happy couple with nothing weighing them down.

That memory played on repeat in my mind for days, sweet and golden and warm.

Until it wasn't.

Suddenly, it started to feel less like a treasured keepsake and more like a prosecutor's exhibit.

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Is Social Media Adding to Your Anxiety?

I did an experiment last week. I opened Facebook, set a timer, and told myself I'd only scroll for five minutes. Five minutes, folks. That's it. Forty-five minutes later, I looked up with a crick in my neck, a weird sense of dread, and no memory of what I'd even seen. I just knew I felt worse than when I started.

Anybody else? Because I don't think I'm the only one.

We joke about our phones being "addictive," and we laugh about wasting hours mindlessly scrolling as if it's a harmless quirk, the way some folks bite their nails or twirl their hair. But the more I've paid attention to how I feel after I close the apps, the more I've realized it's not so harmless after all. Social media has a sneaky way of stirring up anxiety and even depression, and it does so in several ways.

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Spiritual Growth, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione Spiritual Growth, Spiritual Warfare Dana Rongione

Are You Using the Right Tool for the Job?

My husband, Jason, loves to bake. Give him some flour (or wheat berries to grind his own), yeast, and a stand mixer, and he's happy as a clam. This week, he decided homemade rolls were on the dinner menu, and everything was going smoothly...until the dough started climbing up the side of the mixing bowl like it was trying to make a great escape.

Now, Jason knows the drill. When dough sticks to the bowl, you grab a rubber spatula and scrape it back into place. Simple. Easy. Effective. But Jason, in a stroke of "genius," decided he didn't want to dirty another dish. (Bless his heart!) He'd already used his handheld dough whisk, so surely that could double as a spatula, right?

Wrong! So very wrong!

What followed was a mechanical collision of epic proportions.

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Still Standing: What Wildfires Taught Me About Surviving Hard Seasons

If you've been watching the news, you've probably heard that Wales has had its driest, hottest summer since records began. July was the driest in nearly 200 years, and by mid-August, some parts of the country had received a meager six percent of the expected rainfall. Six percent! My garden looks less like a garden and more like a crunchy doormat. Even Henrhyd Falls (known as Batman Falls from The Dark Knight Rises) has run completely dry for the first time in recorded history. When Batman's waterfall stops falling, you know things are serious.

Naturally, all this heat and drought have turned Wales into kindling. Firefighters across England and Wales have battled nearly a thousand wildfires already this year, with fires occurring frequently through the first weeks of August alone. The large, dramatic blazes have mostly hit the south, but even here in mid-Wales, smaller fires have popped up along our hillsides.

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Does Your Attitude Stink as Bad as Manure Day?

I never thought I'd write a devotion inspired by chicken manure, but here we are. Life in Wales keeps me humble, y'all.

As I told you in an earlier devotion, the farmer behind our house decided it was time to fertilize his field. One tractor-load of fresh chicken poo arrived on Monday morning and was dumped right behind our house. By afternoon, the smell had seeped into every crack, crevice, and curtain we own. We closed the windows, lit every candle we had, and prayed for a miracle breeze or even a nice rain shower.  But it was not to be.

Tuesday morning brought a glimmer of hope. The stench had faded just enough that Jason and I started dreaming about throwing open the windows and finally airing out the stuffiness from the past few weeks of relentless heat. But before we could celebrate, the farmer's tractor rumbled back. Another load, this one smelling stronger than the first. Good grief!

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