Living to Learn Life Lessons
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.
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
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.
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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.
Growing up, influence wasn’t a trend—it was a way of life. We didn’t curse around our parents, aunts, uncles, neighbors, or any elders. Period. Respect was rooted deep. Even the smallest slip—saying “butt” or “you lied”—was a line we knew not to cross. And if we did? Oh yes, trouble followed.
Our parents didn’t parent alone. They built a village. And in that village, we had second mothers—like Ms. Harris. She didn’t play. She loved us hard and checked us harder. As kids, we joked that she was always “telling on us,” but deep down, she treated us like we were hers. And looking back, that wasn’t snitching—it was love.
I learned that lesson for real when I moved out at 22 with my three-year-old daughter. I was standing in my new kitchen, proud and grown. Hair laid, bad shape SHAPING, smile radiant, pretty face prettying, and feeling good. That’s when I heard God whisper: “You still have Me to answer to.” I knew His voice. I’d known it since I was 14. And in that moment, I understood adulthood doesn’t erase accountability.
Later, I found a new village—a four-family apartment, full of mothers. Ms. Elizabeth, Lorraine, Tonya, La Sonya-* Googie*, Yvette * Kim* we did life together. We shared meals when times got tight, watched each other’s kids, ran errands, cried, laughed, celebrated. We didn’t even have to build a village—God delivered it.
That influence? It passed to my daughter. She never cursed in front of them. She understood respect wasn’t optional—it was inherited. And to this day, respect runs deep through her. As her mother I wouldn’t have it any other way.
So today, when I see adults cursing on Facebook like elders can’t see it… I cry inside, because they have kids too. Just because you’re grown doesn’t mean you throw away your dignity. Being able to search your mind for better language—that’s growth. And me? At 57… I’m just not that grown.
Let’s stop acting like influence is outdated. The truth is: the next generation is watching. So, let’s guide them, correct them, love them. Even if it upsets them. Speak wisdom, carry a spirit that commands respect. Be a mirror of God’s voice, like I heard that day in the kitchen.
Let’s stop being afraid to correct. Let’s reclaim our influence. We may be grown, but we still have Someone to answer to.
At 57, I’ve learned the importance of paying attention—not just to my surroundings, but to my body’s quiet messages. It’s a daily practice of mindfulness, noticing the subtle shifts that tell me when I’ve had too much pop, when a dinner was a little too heavy, or when my legs feel like they need more care and attention. This isn’t about restriction—it’s about restoration.
I’m a foodie. I love hamburgers. Today, I indulged in a Whopper, Pringles, and M&M’s. Not only was it delicious, but it reminded me how good it feels to satisfy a craving. Here’s the kicker—I haven’t had a Whopper at all this year. So today wasn’t about guilt. It was about joy.
But tomorrow? Tomorrow begins a reset. Back to salads, water, and sandwiches. Because I also stepped on the scale yesterday and saw that I’ve lost 7 pounds. That’s no small thing—and it came from tuning in, being aware, and making gentle adjustments. It’s amazing what we learn when we really listen to our bodies and give them what they need.
My strategy for health and well-being is simple: I pay attention. And that awareness gives me power—not just over what I eat, but over how I move, how I rest, and how I thrive.
There’s something that’s been sitting heavy on my heart—and I know I’m not the only one who sees it. Women will stand by a man who spits in their face, cheats, lies, steals, take and tear up their car, curse their family and friends out, take their money and spend it on other women, eat their kid’s food up in the fridge, cook your steaks, drink your drinks and breaks their spirit over and over again. Yet when a sister-friend makes a forgivable mistake? Silence. Distance. Cut-off.
Where does that grace go when it’s time to love one another?
We talk about loyalty as if it’s exclusive to romantic relationships. But if loyalty means endurance and forgiveness, why do so many women lose patience with their closest friends over a single misstep, while still holding space for partners who consistently cause harm? It’s time we flipped this script. If we can forgive betrayal in romantic love, we can forgive the slip-ups in platonic love, too. Because women need each other. We deserve healing in our sisterhoods, not just in our relationships with men.
So, I ask—who have you been silent toward that maybe deserves a conversation instead of a cutoff?
📍 I’ve seen it happen in my own life. I’ve witnessed beautiful friendships dissolve over things that could have been healed with a conversation. Meanwhile, these same women return to relationships that scar them emotionally and physically—again and again.
The truth? Friendships are foundational. They’re often the ones who hold us up when love breaks us down. So why do we treat them as disposable?
🤲 Real grace looks like:
If we can forgive betrayal in romantic love, we can forgive the slip-ups in platonic love, too. Because women need each other. We deserve healing in our sisterhoods—not just survival in our relationships with men.
It’s frustrating when some celebrities open up about personal family issues—how relatives ask for money or expose them publicly—but then stay silent when it comes to similar struggles with other celebrities. That selective transparency can feel unfair, even performative.
Here’s the thing: family stories often come with an emotional punch that draws attention. But choosing not to speak about equally messy stories involving well-known peers creates a double standard. It paints their relatives as opportunistic while shielding others with fame from the same scrutiny. And when they give or loan money to famous friends with no shame, yet call out their own kin—it sends a mixed message. Almost like… you’re allowed to ask for help if you’re rich and famous, but if you’re family, you’re a burden.
💬 Why it hits hard:
It makes their generosity look performative: noble when helping famous friends, but judgmental when helping family.
Families are usually the ones who were around before the fame, trying to hold onto a real connection.
Celebrities airing private struggles publicly—without naming equally messy celebrity situations—can feel like emotional branding, not real vulnerability.
Why Family Stories Get the Spotlight
That imbalance makes the family member look greedy, while the industry peer gets grace, privacy, and protection.
They’ll publicly call out a cousin for asking for $5,000 but stay silent when a celebrity friend borrows $500K and vanishes until their next comeback.
Don’t get this VIRGO STARTED!! Dont talk about your family on social media. If they share what they know about you, yall will be getting Cease-and-Desist Letters.
For ten days, I won’t belong to a schedule, a to-do list, or anyone else’s expectations. I’ll be aboard a cruise ship, surrounded by ocean and possibility, choosing peace one sunrise at a time.
This isn’t just a vacation—it’s a reclamation. A solo journey to tune into me. To wake when I want. To sleep without apology. To sip on something smooth in the entertainment lounge, laughing with strangers or simply taking in the hum of life around me.
I’ll call my family and friends when I feel moved to share a moment. But mostly, I’ll be discovering the joy of my own company. If I want to step off the ship and explore the warmth and flavors of island life, I’ll do it. If I want to wrap up in cozy sheets and drift off to the sound of the waves—yes, that’s on the agenda too.
This trip is about honoring what I crave: silence when I want it, community when I choose it, and indulgence without compromise. Just once, I want to experience the freedom of doing absolutely everything—or absolutely nothing—on my own terms.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Inside the mind of cree 