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“The Last Shall Be First”

No Money. No Power. Just the Book of Life.

I always imagine Judgement Day as that moment when everything finally makes sense. The world’s chaos? Silenced. No more masks. No more egos. Just truth standing tall like it never needed applause.

I’m in line. Long, yes—but it’s moving. There’s no fear, just this sacred stillness thick with accountability. And the beautiful part? Titles don’t mean a thing. Power can’t skip the line. Everybody’s on the same level now.

Then here they come—celebrities, politicians, influencers dripping in confidence and yesterday’s status. Dressed like they still think the spotlight followed them from Earth. They strut up, trying to cut the line like they own this place.

I step forward. “Oh no, baby. That may have worked at award shows and photo ops, but this? This ain’t your moment. This is God’s.”

Judgement Day isn’t about who had followers—it’s about who followed truth.

And just like that, peace washes over me. Sharp. Righteous. Because justice ain’t bending for privilege today. Ain’t nobody exempt. Everybody’s got to speak on their time here.

We were told the first shall be last. And the last shall be first. This is that moment.

And if my name’s written in that Book, it’s not ‘cause I walked a flawless path. It’s ‘cause I chose love when bitterness felt justified. I forgave when revenge called my name. I trusted God when doubt made more noise than faith.

So yes—let them wait. Like we all do.

This line? It ain’t about fame. It’s about redemption. And that line we stand in? That’s Heaven’s reset. The great equalizer.

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List 30 things that make you happy.

Waking up and saying Thank you Jesus 🙌 #Gratitude #FaithFirst

FaceTiming my mother daily or every other day 💞 #MomMoments #FamilyConnection

Seeing my dog when I visit 🐾 #BrendanJoy #DogLove

Talking to my siblings for hours and laughing 😂 #SiblingBond #FamilyLaughs

Having friends for 25+ years 👯‍♀️ #ForeverFriends #LegacyConnections

Writing and expressing myself ✍️ #CreativeVoice #WritingLife

Sleeping peacefully without delay 😴 #SweetRest #PeacefulNights

Driving just to clear my mind 🚗 #CruisingVibes #FreedomDrive

Traveling and exploring new places 🌍 #WanderSoul #AdventureAwaits

Spending quiet time with God 🙏 #FaithWalk #SpiritualPeace

Laughing loud and freely 😆 #JoyfulNoise #LaughOutLoud

Texting over phone calls 📱 #TextQueen #DigitalVibes

Enjoying a Pep-boy pepsi every now and then 🥤 #SmallJoy #ClassicSip

Cooking and eating collard greens 🥬 #SoulFoodLove #CabbageAndGreens

Watching Traitors on Peacock 🔍 #PlotTwistAddict #TraitorsWatch

Helping coordinate weddings 💐 #WeddingWhisperer #PlannerVibes

Going to concerts 🎶 #LiveMusicMagic #ConcertVibes

Visiting Atlanta and Florida 🌆🌴 #TravelTraditions #SouthernSoul

Spending time with my daughter & going to Dairy Queen with her & mom 🍦 #ThreeGenerations #DQMemories

Living solo and loving the peace 🏡 #SoloLife #SanctuarySpace

Reading and getting lost in stories 📚 #BookLover #ReadAndReflect

Watching YouTube while staying focused 🎥 #IntentionalContent #YouTubeVibes

Listening to love songs 💖 #LoveMusic #HeartBeats

Having time to reflect and create 🧠 #InnerPeace #InspiredMoments

Eating chocolate and strawberry ice cream with peanuts and bananas 🍫🍓🍌 #ComfortIndulgence #SweetEscape

Celebrating birthdays with ice cream cake and pizza 🎂🍕 #BirthdayTradition #FamilyCelebrations

Using my Frigidaire ice maker to protect my blender 😄 #SmoothieQueen #IceMakerLove

Playing Clue and solving mysteries 🔍 #BoardGameVibes #MysteryFun

Sharing my spiritual and emotional journey 💫 #TestimonyTime #SoulStories

Being able to give anonymously 💸 #SilentBlessings #HeartOfGold

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Describe one habit that brings you joy.

Every day I’m at my daughter’s house, I make sure my sweet Brendan gets his daily dose of love—and I mean real love. He’s my grand dog, my Black Lab, my baby. Giving him kisses every single day is more than just habit. It’s our sacred ritual. It’s the way I show him I’m here. That I see him. That I cherish him.

Brendan is the smartest, sweetest little schemer I know. He’s got this look—those eyes—that just melt me. And when he tilts his head and starts working me like I’m his personal snack machine? I laugh, because he knows exactly what he’s doing. His mom swears he gets away with everything when I’m around, and she’s not wrong. But isn’t that part of being a grandparent in any form? We spoil with love because we understand time doesn’t wait.

I know Brendan won’t be here as long as I’ve lived. That truth stays tucked in the back of my heart. But while he is here, I’ll keep kissing that face, rubbing his belly, and slipping him treats when he’s earned them—and sometimes when he just looks too darn cute. Loving Brendan is a daily devotion. And it brings me joy that words almost can’t capture. But I try. Because every good boy deserves his story told.

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What are you curious about?

Being Filthy Rich…Quietly

There’s a version of wealth I dream about—not wrapped in luxury cars or gated neighborhoods but tucked quietly inside the heart of someone who wants to give without applause.

I don’t want to live among the rich. I don’t want to befriend the elite. I want to remain exactly who I am: someone who wakes up with the singular desire to listen to the cries God has chosen me to hear. I want to be the anonymous presence behind answered prayers—the blessing that leaves no trace but changes lives.

I imagine starting my day with a simple prayer: “God, bring me someone to help.” Then I scroll through the news—not for the drama, but to find the stories. The quiet pain. The overlooked struggle. That’s where my wealth goes. Into light bills paid quietly. Rent covered with no sender name. Groceries on the doorstep with no explanation. Joy delivered by grace, not recognition.

My cover will never be blown because my spirit doesn’t need the spotlight. I want the kind of richness that gives me time to listen, to watch, to discern. Then to act swiftly, silently, intentionally. Because true giving doesn’t need a witness—it just needs a willing heart.

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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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