Author: lacrease

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🚫 Married Men Are OFF Limits: A Grown-Woman Boundary

I’m in my late 50s, and meeting a married man—no matter how charming, fine, or seemingly available—is an automatic SKADADDLE!!! He can’t have my number, and I won’t be taking his. That’s not maturity, that’s accountability. And it’s about staying aligned with God’s plan, not getting caught in a trap that promises nothing but heartache.

Too many people try to excuse flirtation as “just talk” or “innocent fun,” but let’s call it what it is: opening the door to destruction. When a married person chooses to flirt, and the other person entertains it—knowing full well what’s at stake—they’re planting seeds of chaos.

That married man has vows he’s already broken by stepping outside emotionally. And the woman engaging with him? She’s not just risking pain; she’s stepping outside of integrity. If God has a purpose for each of us, this kind of distraction can take us way off course. And the further we stray, the more heartbreak follows—not just for the couple, but for the children, the families, and the communities caught in the ripple effect.

When I honor God’s design for relationships, I’m also protecting my peace, my purpose, and my legacy. Entertaining someone else’s spouse brings nothing but confusion to the heart and clutter to the soul. No thanks. Not now, not ever.

So here’s my grown-woman declaration: Married men are off limits. Period. Not because I’m bitter, but because I’m better. Better than drama. Better than lies. Better than settling for borrowed time. And if you’re out here single and waiting for what’s yours—don’t get sidetracked by what’s already spoken for.

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Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.

I was working the register at Walmart when a young woman approached my line. I started ringing up her items, but when it came time to pay, her energy shifted. She looked through her purse, looked around nervously, and then paused. Something about her facial expression was different. It wasn’t embarrassment—it was helplessness.

At first, I wondered if she’d left her wallet in the car or at home. But my spirit told me she truly didn’t have it. And in that second, I knew what I needed to do. I reached into my pocket, handed her the money, and said quietly, “Here boo, get your baby some milk and keep the change.”

I’ve been that mama before. A single mother doing her best, even when times get tough. Her father was in her life, but there were still days when the numbers didn’t add up and the needs outweighed the means. But God always showed up. And that day, I got to be someone’s answered prayer.

What she may never know is that helping her helped me too reminding me of my own resilience and the compassion that still lives in this world. That baby deserved that milk. And that mama deserved that moment of peace. And I thank God I was there to give it.

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How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?

If you couldn’t see me, you’d still feel me.

I’m expressive—very expressive. My face has a mind of its own. It twists, turns, and contorts with every story I hear or tell, not for show, but because I live inside each moment.

Eye contact? I don’t just glance—I lock in. I stare, intentionally and intensely, because I’m painting pictures in my mind as you’re speaking. Every detail matters. If something feels blurry, I’ll stop you, ask questions until it’s crystal clear.

That’s how I connect—with precision and purpose.

And yes, I love sarcasm. But never to offend. It’s my way of nudging people toward laughter and helping them see things from a new angle.

If you’re telling me a story, just know I’m in it with you—mapping every scene, questioning every twist, laughing at the absurd, and honoring the truth.

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“Letting Go of Always Being Right”

There was a time in my life when I believed my opinions were golden—untouchable, absolute, and the only truth worth sharing. If someone didn’t agree with me, I’d withdraw. I’d stop talking to them or even cut them off completely. I wasn’t trying to be hurtful; I genuinely thought that standing firm in my beliefs was a form of strength. In my world, disagreement felt like rejection.

But life has a way of humbling you.

Over time, I began to see people not just through the lens of their opinions, but through the stories that shaped those opinions. I realized that we all come from different experiences, and those journeys leave footprints on how we think, feel, and move through the world. Just because someone has a different outcome or perspective doesn’t make them wrong—or bad. It makes them human.

This revelation opened my heart in ways I never expected. Now, my mind is always open to others. I ask more questions. I listen longer. I respect the silent battles people have faced and the wisdom those battles have taught them.

It’s not about watering down my own truth. It’s about honoring theirs.

If this blog post resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Have you ever had a moment where someone’s story changed your perspective? Share it with me—let’s grow together. 💬

Subscribe to My YouTube Channel coming Mid-September!

http://www.youtube.com/@Iamlacrease

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What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?

My 3 siblings- Peedie, Bobby and Yolanda

Growing up with both parents in the home and being the oldest of four shaped me in ways that continue to nourish my soul. From a young age, my siblings and I were taught one golden rule: no fist fighting, no exceptions, not even once. It didn’t matter how mad you were — we had to talk it out. No name-calling either. Debates had to stay respectful and focused on the issue. That meant no “you’re ugly” or “you’re dumb” — just words with purpose, and always with love behind them.

And you know what? That rule was a gift. Today, all four of us are in our 50s, and the love between us feels like sunshine warmed by time. There’s a closeness that only comes from growing up in a household where peace was protected, and connection was nurtured.

💭 One tradition we’ve slowly drifted from — despite our parents’ wishes — is the gathering on holidays. My dad loved to fire up the grill, and my mom would clean and season the meat like clockwork. There’d be sides for days, and the house smelled like family. But as we got older, we realized something: we ate like that every week. Holidays started to feel more about food than feeling, and slowly, that tradition faded.

✨ But make no mistake — we haven’t lost our way. Because when it comes to birthdays, we celebrate loud and proud. We show up. We bring ice cream cakes, pizza, chips, drinks, pasta — everything that says “party” without fuss. We love the ease and joy of it all. It’s not about the menu, it’s about the memory. Every birthday is a chance to honor each other, to gather, to laugh, and to feel gratitude for another year together.

Even our mom, who still adores traditional holiday moments, has leaned into this birthday month celebration style. And though my dad is no longer with us, the legacy of love he and my mom built lives on in every laugh, every hug, every shared slice of cake.

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Was today typical?

No, I slept way too much.

I kept on nodding off. Then it started raining and that was my cue. I turned off the TV, and then the lights and it was a wrap. LOL

I hate that because now its 4:10 am and I am nowhere close to go back to sleep. I’m up for a long time and I know it LOL So, I’m going to write and schedule blog entries until these eyes get sleepy. And I know me, it’s going to be a good 1:00 pm.

Yes, I had that much sleep.

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How would you describe yourself to someone?

Someone who loves people, someone who loves to listen and who gives Godly advice IF ASKED. I used to just automatically voice my opinion until a friend said, ” sometimes you need to just listen”, I love that. I got that. Because sometimes people just need an ear.

I love to laugh, and I laugh loudly especially if whatever is said really touched me. I’m friendly and can talk to a bird if it flew in front of me. I’m very approachable and very direct WITH LOVE.

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My Stroke Wasn’t the End—It Was the Assignment

On March 29, 2025, my life changed.

A stroke pulled me into a place I never imagined, and when I came out of it, I wasn’t the same person. I was reborn—with clarity, conviction, and an assignment straight from God.

These past months haven’t been easy. I’ve felt the shift in my spirit. I’m broke financially yet fully covered by the love and provision of my family. Every need met. Every step guided. Because I know—I know—this is just the beginning.

God gave me instructions for my next chapter, and I’m on fire. 🔥 Not just to live it out, but to share it boldly. Many go through trauma and stay silent, either out of shame or because they’re just relieved to be past it. But not me. I will always tell my story. I will always speak on the One who sustained me.

I want people to trust Jesus—not just when it’s beautiful and easy, but when it hurts and you feel broken. I want others to know that their pain isn’t wasted. He’s working through it. He’s rewriting your story behind the scenes. And sometimes the ones with the deepest wounds carry the loudest testimony.

This chapter of my life is going to bless those who watch, listen, and follow the journey. I’m living proof that even when life knocks you down, God lifts you up with purpose. And when you come back… it’s with power, with passion, and with praise.

So, stay close. I’ll be sharing everything. And maybe my fire will ignite yours too.

Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”

Subscribe TODAY to My YouTube channel coming Mid-September

https://www.youtube.com/@Iamlacrease

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Let’s Shop Amazon

❄️ Smoothie Love Made Simple: My Go-To Ice Maker

As someone who lives for the perfect smoothie, let me tell you—not all ice is created equal. For years, I struggled with hard ice cubes from trays that dulled my blender blades and turned smoothie-making into a chore. That is, until I met my kitchen hero: the Frigidaire 26 Lbs Portable Compact Ice Making Machine.

This little powerhouse churns out soft, bullet-shaped ice cubes that are the ideal texture and size for blending. They don’t fight my blades—they work with them, giving me silky-smooth results every single time. Whether I’m blending strawberries, bananas, peanuts, or chocolate, this ice takes the pressure off my appliances—and my patience.

Beyond performance, it’s sleek, easy to use, and perfect for busy mornings or content creation. If you’re serious about smoothies, or just want your ice game elevated, this Frigidaire machine might be your new favorite kitchen companion.

As an Amazon Affiliate, I have to put you on this ICE MAKER! GO AND READ THE COMMENTS!

CLICK MY LINK! https://amzn.to/3U0ks5h

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If you won two free plane tickets, where would you go?

If I won two free plane tickets, there wouldn’t be a moment’s hesitation—I’d be back in Atlanta.

Every visit is like watching the city dance in a new outfit. I love seeing how the buildings change and grow, reflecting a spirit that never stands still. Buckhead and Sandy Springs? My favorites. Something about those neighborhoods wraps me in comfort and familiarity. And this time, I’ve got my eyes set on the World of Coca-Cola—finally! I want to sip on the nostalgia and savor all that’s new in downtown Detroit too, but there’s something magnetic about Atlanta that keeps pulling me back.

Florida is lovely—sunshine and serenity—but Atlanta? Atlanta is love. Atlanta is legacy.

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