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 20/07/2026 Dana Rongione 20/07/2026

Did You Forget the Most Important Step?

Let me tell you about the great grocery fiasco of this past week. Jason and I live in a small farming community here in Wales, and our nearest "big" shop contains two small aisles of food, one aisle of household items, and an aisle filled with snacks and booze. So, we do what any sensible, technology-loving missionary couple does. We order our groceries online and have them delivered right to our door. It saves petrol and time, and it rescues me from the temptation of buying a chocolate bar "just because it's there."

Our grocery store's website has this magical little feature called "Instant Shop." It loads your cart automatically with everything you typically order. Milk? In the cart. Tea bags (a necessity of life here in Wales, mind you)? In the cart. From there, we go through and tweak, removing what we don't need and adding what we do.

Dana Rongione 17/07/2026 Dana Rongione 17/07/2026

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!

Dana Rongione 15/07/2026 Dana Rongione 15/07/2026

When the Breeze Changes, So Does the Mood

Last week, my house was full of friendly company from the States, and I was happily showcasing all the lovely things about our little farming community in Wales. I pointed out the quiet roads, the safety, the community spirit, and the fact that we have more sheep and cows than people. In other words, it was all very picturesque and nearly worthy of a postcard.

Then, just two days after our guests left, the farmer fertilized the field behind our house. Suddenly, my postcard had a smell. Even with the windows and doors shut tight, the whole house now carries the unmistakable aroma of pig and chicken poo. I can’t help but think, Well, this is a fine way to balance out my sales pitch. One minute I’m praising the perks of rural life, and the next minute I’m wondering if I should hand out clothespins at the door.

Life has a way of reminding us that every coin has two sides. The sweet moments and the stinky ones often arrive close together, and neither one asks our permission first. I was just celebrating the beauty of our surroundings, and now I am living in the not-so-beautiful part of it.

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.

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

Did You Forget the Most Important Step?

Does Your Attitude Stink as Bad as Manure Day?

When the Breeze Changes, So Does the Mood

Faithful in the Shadows

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Dana Rongione