By SEAN DIETRICH I have a confession to make. I am addicted to my cellphone. I’m not proud of it. I don’t like admitting it. But I’m coming clean, publicly. I feel naked without my phone. I shower with my phone. In fact, on many occasions — I am not making this up — I...

I can only pray. That’s all I know how to do. I am nobody. I am not particularly smart. I am not savvy when it comes to political discourse. I am just a guy. I have no wisdom. I have no preachy words. No condescending sentiments. The world is falling apart. I get it....

By SEAN DIETRICH The call came late afternoon. “May I speak to Sean?” said the child’s voice. Speaking, I said. “Is this a bad time, Mister Sean?” Not at all. And don’t call me “Mister,” it’s weird. “What’re you doing right now, Mister Sean?” Me? Right now? Actually,...

By SEAN DIETRICH The phone rang. My wife and I were in the kitchen, cooking an elaborate gourmet dinner. I was chopping garlic. My wife was sauteing shallots or something fancy like that. My wife answered the phone. I could tell the call was serious because my wife’s...