Tag: #CreasygurlSpeaks

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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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“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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Why Manna Spoils: The Importance of Trusting God Daily

In Exodus 16, God rained down manna from heaven—His divine provision delivered fresh each morning for the Israelites in the wilderness. It wasn’t just food. It was a lesson. A rhythm. A reminder: trust Me for today… and tomorrow, I’ll still be God.

Yet even after witnessing the miracle, many didn’t listen. Some tried to gather extra and stash it away for the next day. And what happened? The manna spoiled.

Why? Because the blessing was daily. The command was clear. “Gather what you need for today. Trust Me with tomorrow.” And when they didn’t obey, the consequence wasn’t just rotten bread—it was a reflection of rotten trust.

🌾 What This Teaches Us:

  • Provision requires obedience. God didn’t just provide—He gave instruction. And ignoring His voice robbed the gift of its power.
  • Fear leads us to hoard. How often do we store up what God told us to release? Whether it’s forgiveness, control, or even opportunities—we hang on because we’re scared He won’t show up again.
  • Spoilage is a warning. That rotten manna wasn’t a punishment—it was a sign. A message. A wake-up call. When we move outside of divine timing, even the good things can go bad.
  • There’s a spiritual expiration date. Grace is new every morning. Love, mercy, direction—they’re fresh each day. But trying to stretch yesterday’s blessing into tomorrow without God’s permission can leave us tired, frustrated, and stuck.

I’ve seen this play out in my own life—moments where I’ve held on too long, saved what needed to be surrendered, or questioned whether God’s promise was truly enough. It always comes back to trust.

So today, I’m asking myself—and maybe you’re asking too: What am I holding that God already told me to release?

Let it go. Don’t let fear spoil what God made for today. He’s already in tomorrow.

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How to Talk to Kids About Personal Boundaries

“I never imagined I’d need to ask this out loud. But when was the last time you looked a child in the eyes—your daughter, your niece, your godson—and said, ‘If someone ever touches you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me. Always’?”

  • Don’t wait for a “reason.” Start age-appropriate conversations early so it never feels like a one-time scary topic.
  • Let kids know that nothing is off limits—they can talk to you about anything without fear of punishment or disbelief.

👂 Believe and Support, First and Always

  • If a child shares something, believe them. That moment can shape the rest of their healing journey.
  • Validate their feelings without rushing to “fix it”—sometimes presence is more powerful than immediate action.

⚖️ Don’t Stay Silent—Speak Up

  • If your gut is sounding the alarm, don’t ignore it. Whether someone said something, or you just sense something’s wrong, trust your instincts.
  • Taking action might mean confronting someone, getting authorities involved, or simply documenting behaviors and keeping a close watch. Silence protects predators—truth protects children.
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When “No” Is God’s Protection, Not Rejection

Too many of us have been conditioned to flinch at the word No. It echoes like failure, feels like rejection, and lodges deep in the heart as if we weren’t good enough, worthy enough, or ready enough. But the truth is—No doesn’t have to be the end of our dreams.

Sometimes that “No” is divine redirection. It’s God whispering, “That’s not what I have for you.” And if we’re honest, some of the things we begged for in the past—jobs, relationships, opportunities—would’ve pulled us away from our purpose had we received them. Thank God for the doors that didn’t open.

But here’s where it gets real: hearing No too often can make us stop trying. We stop asking. We stop dreaming. And eventually, we settle. Not because our dreams weren’t valid, but because we let fear of rejection speak louder than the fire God placed in our hearts.

Saying “keep going” after a No doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t sting. It means trusting that even disappointment can be holy. It means reminding ourselves: our worth isn’t tied to someone else’s approval. And every No we face is a setup for the right Yes.

So dream anyway. Ask anyway. Show up anyway. When No shows up at your door, don’t pack up and walk away. Stand firm. Trust God. And know that sometimes, the No isn’t punishment—it’s protection. It’s purpose. It’s a better Yes in the making.

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“Dear Tyler Perry: A Letter from a Front Row Fan”

I’ve loved your work for decades. When your plays came to town, I was always right there in the front row—laughing, crying, praising God, and feeling every word like it was written for my life. You reminded us that healing, forgiveness, and faith could walk hand in hand with good storytelling. That’s the Tyler I connected with—the one who made space for Jesus, redemption, and accountability in every production.

So watching you change… it hasn’t been easy.

I know you’ve shared some of the pain and trauma you carry. I’ve read how your mother’s passing affected you, how you’ve turned to edibles and coping mechanisms to manage that grief. I understand that healing isn’t linear. But as someone who’s watched you grow older in the public eye, I can’t help but feel like your art isn’t growing with you.

Your recent sitcoms—filled with vulgarity, excessive sexual content, and even male-on-male scenes that don’t seem rooted in any deeper message—feel disconnected from the man I once saw as a vessel for truth and restoration. It’s not about judging the characters or the choices—they exist in real life too—it’s about the intention behind the scenes. Once, your work held up a mirror to the soul. Now, it feels more like a show for shock.

Some will say you’ve evolved. But from where I sit, it doesn’t look like growth. It looks like unresolved pain.

You once led with purpose. Now, it feels like you’re walking with the crowd. I never expected perfection from you—but I did expect alignment with the message you built your legacy on. The Tyler who taught us how to forgive our fathers, how to get out of bad relationships, how to stand in the name of God—that Tyler seems distant.

And maybe… maybe this letter isn’t about disappointment. Maybe it’s about mourning. Mourning the loss of an artist who once made so many of us feel seen and understood in ways Hollywood never could.

I still care. I still respect your work ethic. But as a supporter who believed in the why behind your storytelling, I hope you come back to center.

Love always, A front-row sister who still believes in your light.

Subscribe to my YouTube channel coming back in September.

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

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