Dianna Buchwalter

"Great, here they come again." I thought to myself. I pretended to search for something in my locker as the most popular girl and her entourage brushed by me with their matching New Kids on the Block t-shirts. I wanted so badly to walk alongside them and talk about which member of the boy band was the cutest. I longed for their small frames, flawless skin and perfectly teased hair. Feelings of inferiority seemed to be the norm for me back in the day. It is said that Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr first recorded the expression "the more things change, the more they stay the same." There's so much truth in that statement. Here I am at the ripe age of 41 years old and as I recall those glorious junior high days, it's the early 90's and I am 13 all over again. If I'm not careful, there are situations that arise where I can let myself believe those same voices in my head now just as I did then. For instance: Have you ever walked into church on a Sunday morni...

With all my recently found recipes on Pinterest, I was sure I needed a new set of pots and pans.  I had been in a funk and this would surely lift my spirits. I made my way to the cookware and stood in the middle of the aisle.  By all outward appearances, I must've looked like any other shopper.  Inside, however, a war had been waged for days in my psyche between God's truths and Satan's lies. "Oh no! Not again," I thought.  I had come to this store to escape those voices of deceit so why were they following me? As I looked around, I hoped I hadn't said what I thought out loud.  God knows I already felt half crazy but for someone else to think I was might do damage to my self esteem.  Not to mention, it would ruin my day should some friendly men in white coats come in to take me away.  I made my way to the car and sat there as I went over the lies that were clinging and clanging together and had threatened ...