Musings

By Sean Dietrich Major League Baseball spring training started today. I sat on my porch, listening to a radio. And I was cheering. I mean genuinely cheering. The Atlanta Braves play the Tampa Bay Rays. The national anthem was played. The umpire used his time-ravaged voice to shout, “Play ball!” I...

By Sean Dietrich “When I was a kid, we didn’t have no Christmas tree,” said the waitress, placing a hamburger on the table before me. I was in North Georgia, in a restaurant attached to a gas station. My waitress’s name was Sharon. I know this because her name tag said...

FacebookTwitterEmailShare By Sean Dietrich “Dear Sean, how can we save this country?” the email began. The writer lives in Hartford, Connecticut. His name is Michael. I have no idea why Michael thinks a hayseed like me is qualified to answer this loaded question. I’m not a smart guy. Blondes tell jokes about me. Still,...

By Sean Dietrich We had a major potato salad crisis at our Fourth-of-July barbecue. Someone forgot to designate a family member to be the official “bringer of potato salad.” So everyone took it upon themselves to bring potato salad. We had 2,927 varieties. There are few things more American than a...

By Kerry Knight, Minister, Emerald Beach Church of Christ One of the most endearing hymns in our song books is “Oh To Be Like Thee.” It was written in 1893 by Thomas Obadiah Chisholm. He was born in a log cabin in Kentucky and was a man filled with grand...

By Pastor Jeff Wade, The Rock of Panama City Beach February, the month of love, right? If I am to write an article for the newspaper, it’s got to be about one of my favorite pastoral topics. Love. As a pastor of a local church, I cannot think of an easier...

By Sean Dietrich “Will the room please settle down before the dance begins?!” says Gary to the elderly crowd in the nursing home cafeteria. “Simmer down, please!” Gary is an old man with a saxophone dangling from his neck. He speaks over a microphone, addressing old folks who are all wearing...

By Sean Dietrich She was trash. At least that’s how she was treated. She was found wandering a rural Mississippi highway. Beneath the stars. It was a wonder the girl hadn’t been hit. This was a busy highway. The kind with transfer trucks. The dog was walking in the center of the...

By Rev. Pete Hyde As I ease out of this role as Senior Pastor, not only of Community Church, but out of the pastoral ministry that has been my life for more than three decades, I find myself reflecting on those years and becoming a little nostalgic.  Hope these memories...