Rhonda’s Blog

Updates

Jan 24, 2023

When Mother prays, things happen

The photo you see below is precious to me. This son of mine is the one you will read about below. After years of selfish living, what pours out of

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Jan 18, 2023

No Panera? Just bring what’s in your lunchbox

This post is for the one who feels like stale bread, thin soup. I have known seasons of exhaustion and fatigue, feeling inadequate to keep all the spinning plates from

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Jan 11, 2023

On friendship between the sexes

Recently I wrote a blog post called “On Treating Men.” In it, I spoke about how in the past, it’s been easy for me to judge all men by the

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Jan 10, 2023

For the sake of world peace, I’d like to keep my gas stove

Today, the New York Post featured a surprising headline. “Biden administration weighs nationwide ban on gas stoves:  report.” That’s what it said. And from a curly-headed, caffeinated mother in the

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Dec 28, 2022

Why yes, my life is a bed of roses

It came in a moment of supreme frustration. “You make it look like your life is a bed of roses!” For some weeks now, these words have played on and

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Dec 09, 2022

The Christmas Slippers

The weekly cleaning is in full swing. I’m in fine fettle, swishing here, swooshing there; the dust is flying. Returning from the basement on a mission, I crest the top

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Dec 07, 2022

Surrendering to despair or to joy

In seasons of disappointment, we have a choice. We can become demoralized, dis-couraged, and depressed. When despair is all that the heart can see, it’s so easy to give way

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Dec 01, 2022

On treating men

Recently, I’ve been trying something new. Any woman who’s been hurt by a man or objectified by a man will be tempted to believe something insidious. That would be a

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Nov 08, 2022

Why I voted today

I cast my vote today. In a country church surrounded by cornfields, the line stretched long. Waiting my turn, I watched, quiet, thinking, listening. Around me, good-hearted citizens were volunteering,

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Nov 07, 2022

Super Bowl should end with x’s, o’s, and apologies

By the time this column goes to print, that annual festival of the pigskin known as the Super Bowl will have concluded. Every year, millions of us gather in living

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