Rhonda’s Blog

“Parenting,” Ed Asner sagely said, “is part joy and part guerilla warfare.” At no time is this statement truer than when navigating the treacherous shoals of the adolescent and teenage

“North, south, east, and west. Summer is the season I like the best.” Okay. So that little ditty is true right now as the breeze teases the leaves overhead. But

Huh? What was that you said? After the enthusiastic celebrating with the greater Schrock family over the Fourth, I’m afraid you’ll have to use sign language or I’ll have to

“Poor little rich boy.” These words have been ringing in my mind since the news of Michael Jackson’s death broke nearly two weeks ago. I watched that night as the

Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They’re always jumping, ever grazing, and seldom sleeping. Yup, it’s summertime and the kids are home. Somewhere, tired teachers are on their

So, in an effort to save time the other day, as the clock was ticking, they rushed outside with the digital camera and then presented at my desk with about

It can’t be, can it? It’s not possible, is it? Surely it hasn’t been that long. No matter how unbelievable it seems, there’s no getting around it. It’s been three

I think it hit two zip codes. At least, that’s how it looked from my spot by the fire. The front bumper was squarely in ours, but the back one

“It was a dark and stormy night. Suddenly, a shot rang out.” Alright, so it wasn’t stormy, but it was dark, and the way the conversation was going, it was

Truth or lies. Despair or joy. Hope or defeat. Belief or unbelief. So many choices for the child of God. If ever we thought we were in for a trouble-free