I love to communicate. Expressing my feelings and thoughts is second nature to me. Whether it’s talking with people or listening to understand how they feel, communication is my way of building bridges. It’s not just about words—it’s about connection, empathy, and understanding.
🧩 Problem Solving
I study people a lot, not to judge, but to understand. Everyone handles life differently, shaped by their unique experiences. That fascinates me. I’ve learned that problem solving isn’t about finding one “right” answer—it’s about respecting different paths and perspectives
📋 Planning
Planning is my happy place. I especially love organizing gatherings for family and friends. I can visualize every detail—the dishes, the plates, the silverware, the tables—before it even happens. That vision helps me avoid last-minute stress. I write things down, I prepare, and I make sure nothing is left out.
🚗 Driving
Driving is freedom for me. Funny enough, I didn’t start until I was 32, but once I did, I fell in love with it. I’ve driven all over my city and even in places like New York. I don’t like driving in the rain or the dark, but give me Michigan snow and I’ll get you anywhere safely. Daytime drives are my specialty, and I can pack up and go for hours with little sleep—just because I love it that much.
🌱 Working with Children & Young Adults
One of my greatest joys is guiding young people. I started a teen group in my home that ran for five summers, and we did everything you can imagine. Helping children, young adults, and women prepare for the real world is something I take seriously. It’s about equipping them with tools, confidence, and love.
I’ve always been a listener. Since I was about 10, maybe 12, I asked a million questions. I didn’t even know back then that I wanted to be a writer—I just knew I loved reading, loved stories, reading the Bible and loved the truth. Truth has always been my thing. God knows me: I’m going to tell it.
One day, out of the blue, my dad sat me down. Looking back, I think it had been on his mind for years. He told me he had a daughter before he met my mom. He was about 15. He said he saw her sometimes. I remember asking, “Well why can’t I meet her?” But my dad would shut down when I asked too many questions. He’d give me just enough to keep me interested, but never the whole story. That was him.
He told me she looked like me. That was enough to keep me dreaming. I’d go to bed thinking about her, wondering what it would be like to play with her, to see her face. I never thought he was making it up—I knew my dad. I woke up to him every day of my life. He knew me, and I knew him.
Years passed. I was about 15 or 16 when he wanted to talk about her again, he finally gave me HER mother’s name. Back then there was no internet, no cell phones, no Facebook, no Instagram. Just a name that didn’t ring a bell.
Later, when I was grown and had internet. My Sister came to my mind again. I tried to research her mom, but Dad wouldn’t tell me her name. Still, I held onto the pieces he gave me. I knew My Sisters name. Even if I didn’t know how to spell it. MY FB name is LaCrease, but MY BIRTH CERTIFICATE name is LaCreasea. My mom and dad don’t know how the a got on there, but it’s on my SS, Driver’s License and all my business. I have to use that name. Her name is Lateresa
Then one day, my dad called me: “Zee, your sister just left my apartment.” I was like, “For real, Daddy? Are you serious?” He said yes. I asked him a billion questions. I remember running to Belle Isle—my place of peace—to thank God. I cried. I knew He had answered the prayer I’d been carrying since I was 12.
He gave me her phone number and finally me and my siblings met her. I was tripping on how much she looked like my grandmother. I thought back to 1985 when my grandmother took me on a week train ride to Toronto—we had the best time. Seeing her reminding me how much she looks like grandma.
But life is life. Things slowed down. A lot of things concerning this story had me second guessing. Ups and downs came. I told God, “Okay, I’m done with this for now. When it’s time, I’ll be ready.” But one thing for sure in all of it. I KNEW WHAT MY DADDY TOLD ME WAS THE TRUTH.
After my dad passed in 2019, I heard from her again briefly. We always small talked on each other FB post from time to time, but at least I knew where she was at ALL times. I had peace. God gave me patience and understanding in this situation. I had time.
Then last week—out of nowhere—she contacted me again. She sent me a DNA list with names. I want to post it, it’s funny who all names popped up. I looked at it, and I knew EVERY single person on there. Everyone!!! I asked her what made her finally do it. She said, “I was tired of wondering.”
And that’s our story right there. We all get tired of wondering. Tired of silence. Tired of secrets. I share this because families need these conversations. Some people won’t like it, some will feel uncomfortable. I’m cool with that. Because I love truth. And I am not alone. Here are some photos of her and my niece and nephews!!!! Yeaaaaa!
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There is another story I would like to share. I got permission from THOSE, THIS STORY BELONGS TOO. I will only share the JOY it brings me, just because its MY DAUGHTERS STORY NEISHIA.
JUST weeks before I had a stroke. Nesha got a text from her cousin telling her that someone had taken a test ** I really don’t know how those test goes**, but the names on that paper LEADS to known people and their names.
She called her dad and they had a conversation, and the first thing I ask Nesha was does she have a FB? Nesha had photos of her already in her phone. She gave me her name and when I tell you I stalked her page. LOL I was so HAPPY. MY baby has a sister now. She was excited. Not only that but Nesha is an auntie. I can hear them saying Auntie Nesha. LOL I love it.
It just amazes me how things happen. God made us all and he can pair up to be family as he wishes.
When I came home from the hospital, I didn’t return to my apartment. Instead, Nesha took me in and cared for me for over four months. She put her whole life on hold—her plans, her schooling, her dreams. She had signed up for her Master’s program, but life “lifed,” as we say, and she chose to be there for me.
During that time, she spoke with her sister over the phone, but they never met in person.
Now, I’m well, moved into my new apartment, she’s working on getting her life back and it’s time for those quiet gurls to meet!!!!! I’ll see my sister next year * she moved from Detroit* but Neshia’s sister lives right here. I’m going to let them work it out, I’m just excited on the side lines. They are both businesswomen, own their own homes, and NEED TO MAKE TIME FOR EACH OTHER.
🌸 Closing Thoughts
This story is more than just about DNA tests or family connections—it’s about God’s timing, answered prayers, and the joy of discovering new bonds. Families need these conversations, even when they’re unexpected or uncomfortable. Truth has a way of bringing healing, and joy has a way of multiplying.
Life has a way of slowing you down when you won’t do it yourself. And when it does, you have two choices: get bitter or get better.
I chose better.
This week, I want to share four life lessons, a total of 4 days. I’ve learned since the stroke. I’m fine now—Thank God. But I’m not the same. And honestly, I don’t want to be. Because through the pain, the fear, and the stillness, I found something deeper. I found clarity. I found purpose. I found God in a new way.
When you go through something life-altering, you have to take a step back and ask: “God, what are You trying to teach me?” Not “Why me?” but “What now?” Not “What did I lose?” but “What did I gain?”
Each day this week, I’ll be sharing one lesson that changed me from the inside out. These aren’t just words—they’re truths I live by now. They’re the kind of lessons that come from sitting still, listening to God, and letting Him show you who you REALLY are.
So, whether you’ve been through something hard, or you’re just trying to make sense of life’s curveballs, I hope these reflections speak to your heart. I hope they remind you that healing is possible, growth is real, and God never wastes a wound.
Come back tomorrow (( Monday)) for Lesson 1. I promise—these four you won’t want to miss.
I’ve always been the strong one. The one who never gets sick, who powers through life with grace. The last time I was in a hospital was in 1986—giving birth to my only child- daughter. Since then, I’ve caught a cold twice every couple of years. So, when I had a stroke, it didn’t just shake me—it shocked my entire circle. Family. Friends. Even me.
But God doesn’t miss. He doesn’t make mistakes. And in the aftermath of that storm, He gave me something beautiful: a apartment in downtown Detroit. Not just any apartment—surrounded by music, sports, and dog lovers. It’s perfect. It’s peaceful. It’s mine.
My family has wrapped me in love, making sure I have everything I need. And now, I’m ready. Ready to start making candles again. Ready to launch my YouTube channel and share my testimonies. Ready to turn this healing into purpose. I’m funny too.
But here’s the truth: the waiting is hard.
I’m in the middle of tying up loose ends, getting things in order. My needs are met, and I’m grateful. But I get lonely sometimes. I get tired of writing and reading. I want to create. I want to build. I want to pour my energy into something that brings me joy—and maybe a little income too. I want to start back making candles again.
I know my YouTube channel will take off. I feel it in my bones. I know the candles I make will light up more than homes—they’ll light up hearts. But right now, I don’t have the money to buy wax and supplies. And that “right now” feels heavy.
Still, I trust God’s timing. I know He’s aligning things behind the scenes. But I’m ready. I’m so ready. And sometimes, that readiness feels like restlessness.
This is Chapter Two. Chapter One was survival. Chapter Two is preparation. And Chapter Three? That’s the breakthrough.
Until then, I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep praying. I’ll keep believing. Because even in the waiting, I’m walking in purpose.
Growing up as the oldest of four, I carried a lot on my shoulders. I love my siblings deeply—love love love love love them—but being the eldest came with expectations. I was serious, intense, and often misunderstood. My parents would constantly tell me, “You need to change your attitude.” At the time, I didn’t get it. I thought I was just standing up for myself. But looking back, I see how often I let small things turn into big storms.
My mom used to say, “Having an attitude will get you nowhere.” She’d tell me to ignore people when they upset me. I remember telling her, “That’s hard.” And it was. How do you ignore someone who says something that cuts deep?
Fast forward to my late 30s, working at Walmart. That job taught me more about life than I ever expected. It took me nine years to learn how to develop thick skin. Nine years to master the art of silence. One day, I remembered my mom’s words. I tried it—really tried it—and it changed everything.
Now? I ignore people who want to argue. I don’t go back and forth. I don’t entertain drama. Online, I block and delete. In person, I walk past like I was never there. I don’t stick around for foolishness. I won’t participate in anything that makes me angry.
I love communication. I believe in finding a middle ground. But arguing? That’s not my lane anymore. And that shift—that decision to protect my peace—is the best advice I’ve ever received.
There’s something timeless and comforting about Bible stories—especially the ones told through vibrant cartoons or illustrated books. I still remember the joy of flipping through those pages as a child, when my mom would bring home books filled with stories of courage, kindness, and divine wisdom. Those moments weren’t just entertaining—they were formative.
Now, as a parent, I see the same spark in our children’s eyes when they watch these stories unfold. Whether it’s David facing Goliath or Esther’s brave stand, these tales speak to the heart and soul in ways that stick.
🌟 Why It Matters If we take just 15 minutes after school, a few days a week, to share these stories with our kids, we’re doing more than filling time—we’re setting a foundation. These small moments can shape their values, fuel their curiosity, and build a lasting love for Scripture. Trust me: when they grow up, they’ll crave the Bible—not out of obligation, but out of genuine connection.
📅 A Simple Routine with Big Impact
Choose 2–3 days a week for story time
Keep it short and sweet—just 15 minutes
Let them ask questions, reflect, and even retell the stories in their own words
Mix it up with cartoons, books, or even audio stories
These stories aren’t just for children—they’re for the child in all of us. And when we share them, we’re passing on more than tales—we’re passing on truth, hope, and a legacy of faith.
I blog because I have something to say. Not just to speak—but to express, release, and reflect. Blogging gives me space to get things off my chest, to share what’s on my mind, and to honor the experiences that shaped me. I’m an individual with a story, and I believe stories are meant to be shared.
I love to read because I love to learn. I would listen to an animal if it could tell me about its life. That’s how deep my curiosity runs. Every blog I read is a chance to pause, reflect, and say, “I never looked at it that way.” Those moments—those quiet revelations—are why I keep coming back to the page.
When I write, I’m not just telling my story. I’m inviting you to think about yours. Maybe something I say will remind you of a time you faced a similar situation. Maybe you’ll see how I handled it and think about how you did. That’s the beauty of blogging: it’s not just about me. It’s about us.
We’re all different. Our experiences take us down different streets. And that’s okay.
I love New Balance shoes. I love the way they feel on my feet. But does that mean I should talk down on other gym shoes? No! It just means I prefer what’s comfortable for me. That’s how life works. We learn from each other’s preferences, stories, and truths. We don’t have to agree to grow.
I LOVE meeting someone who is not me. It gives me joy to read about someone else’s life, to walk in their shoes for a moment, and to see the world through their lens. That’s why I blog. That’s why I read. That’s why I listen.
Because learning starts with listening.
If you feel inspired and lead to send Blessings~ Zelle
Five months ago, I woke up from an 11-day coma after suffering a stroke with a blood pressure of 310/138 and bleeding in my brain. But here’s the miracle—my face wasn’t twisted, I could walk, I could talk, and my speech was intact. After being in a coma, Doctors were coming in with at least 10 or more staring at me. I answered all the questions they had for me. I knew it was normal, but I didn’t know they were thinking, “how is she alive with Blood Pressure that high and no surgery in the brain?” And they were right. I was a miracle. I NEVER experienced any pain, not one time, not one day, not one minute. I could feel my feet, my legs, my hands, my face was intact, my speech was off because of the tubes that were down my throat, but it came back. I was confused at times, and my memory wasn’t all the way there. I knew I would gain it over time. But from the moment I opened my eyes, I knew something had shifted. I wasn’t mean, but I was assertive. I knew who I was, and I knew I was headed in a new direction.
I didn’t remember but, my sister told me while I was in the hospital that I told the doctors my birthday was 3/9 when it’s really 9/3. That moment still cracks me up—I can’t wait to tell that story on YouTube so y’all can see my face and what she did when I told her I DIDNT SAY THAT! 😂
As my memory was starting to return, I asked my family and friends to stay home and rest. I needed answers—not from people, but from God. I had questions. Deep ones. And every night after 11 PM, I stayed awake all night to talk to Jesus. It became a habit. A sacred one.
I asked Him, “How is it that I had a stroke and yet I’m not experiencing what others go through? Why am I feeling good, but nothing seems wrong?” And He answered me.
He reminded me of the six years I spent praying consistently, asking for more in life than just waking up, Door Dashing, eating, and going to sleep. I had been saying, “There’s more to life for me.” And He said, “You’re right. There is.”
Then He asked me, “Remember what you told Nesha when she asked what you wanted for Christmas?” I paused. Then it hit me—a tripod. I also told her that I needed another car mount so that i could record when I drive. I wanted it so I could start my YouTube channel without holding my phone. I had planned to do it, but fear held me back. I was scared to even go to the dentist for dental work. I was scared and nervous to make a video. But in that moment, He said, “You are FREE. Fear has left you.”
Instantly, I felt it. No fear. Just freedom. He told me that I was FREE AND FREE FROM FEAR. I knew then, that’s what I’m here to do. Communicate! He said you are not afraid to speak up for the truth. You are BOLD, and can get your point across, but I will show you how to tone it down. Because I WOKE UP AGGRESSIVE. MY FAMILY HAVE LOTS OF STORIES ABOUT THAT HOSPITAL STAY. LOL LOL LOL LOL But you get my point.
I knew then that I would start my YouTube channel this year. I had been nervous I’d forget my thoughts or quit because consistency is hard for me. But this time is different. By the time I left the hospital, I knew my assignment. We talked EVERY NIGHT, It was clear to me. And it felt good. I told my family everything, because when it happens, they will believe me. They could be witnesses of what God told me. To this day things are happening just as Jesus told me.
I prayed, “Lord, please don’t let me leave here and not do Your will.” I knew I had to use my communication skills and personality he gave me to draw people to Him. Going to work and coming home wasn’t enough. My personality is too big for that. I want more. I need more.
This is my season of clarity, purpose, and bold obedience. I’m walking in it.
I have so much to share.
Below are the text messages I sent my daughter* my only child* she knew immediately that I was having a stroke. She FT me and it was confirmed. She beat the EMS to my apartment. I Thank God for her fast thinking, they said things could have been differently.
I’ve officially moved into my new apartment, and while everything is unpacked and in its place, I’m still searching for my groove. At my daughter’s home, I had a rhythm—a flow that felt natural. Now, in this beautiful new space surrounded by concerts, dog lovers, and the heartbeat of Detroit, I’m starting fresh. And let me tell you… it’s not as easy as flipping a switch.
I know it’ll take a few weeks. I’m giving myself grace. But I also know I need to move my body. The fitness room is just steps away, yet I haven’t felt the pull to go. That’s okay. I’m not forcing it. I’m listening to my spirit, and she’s whispering: “Start small. Start soulful.”
One thing I’m proud of? My eating habits have shifted in the best way. No goodies in the apartment. No mindless snacking. No overeating. Just intentional meals and a lighter feeling—physically and emotionally. That’s a win I’m celebrating.
This is Chapter 2 of my journey. A new space. A new rhythm. A new level of self-awareness. I’m not chasing perfection—I’m embracing progress. I’ve got to get into my groovy. And I will.
A few weeks ago, I walked into my dentist’s office. I always try to enter every space—with Spirit, energy, and a smile that’s just waiting to meet someone’s eyes. Hello, is free, joy is contagious, and I’m a believer in setting the temperature the moment I step into a room.
But that receptionist? She greeted me with all the warmth of a cold sink faucet. Dry. No energy. No spit in her throat. I mean—nothing. She was older and her face was TWISTED! It was only 10:30 in the morning! Her attitude caught me off guard… before I knew it, I bust out laughing. Not because I was being mean—but because her energy was that unreal. I had to laugh at myself.
Then came her coworker. She caught herself acting funky and gave me this look that said: “Oh that was meant for her.” That didn’t excuse the dry tone or lack of professionalism. What she didn’t know is… I could’ve cleared that entire waiting room OUT if I wanted to. But I didn’t. Why?
Because I don’t live on anyone else’s page. I author my own energy. I decide the vibe.
She adjusted, I adjusted, and we were cool after that—but this was a reminder: Never let anyone shift your spirit. Catch yourself, center your smile, and realign. Set the atmosphere in your life.
Inside the mind of cree 