One of the most important roles we have as parents is to pay attention. Not just to behavior or milestones—but to what genuinely lights up our children’s spirits. I believe that by watching our kids closely in their early years, we begin to uncover the natural gifts God placed inside of them. These moments of curiosity and passion aren’t random—they’re sacred breadcrumbs leading us to their purpose.
If we take the time to notice what they love—whether it’s drawing, storytelling, building things, helping others, or showing compassion—we can begin to nurture those interests with intention. Why wait until they’re adults to start asking “What do you want to do?” why can’t we guide them now toward creating a life rooted in meaning?
When a child loves creating or organizing, we don’t dismiss it—we celebrate it. Because those passions, when watered by a parent’s belief and God’s timing, can blossom into ministries, businesses, or movements that impact generations.
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.
There’s something unsettling about waking up each day knowing you’re headed to a job that brings no joy, no peace, and no passion. It’s a feeling too many people carry quietly—the dread of the daily grind. But what if we’ve been looking at work and fulfillment all wrong?
I believe that within each of us, God has placed a gift. A talent. A passion. Something that doesn’t just make money—but makes sense of our lives. And when we ignore that gift, when we bury it under responsibilities or fear, we start to feel a deep disconnect—not just from ourselves, but from the One who made us.
💬 I’ve met people who are amazing with their hands, crafting, styling, painting. Some who have the kind of voice that moves you. Others who can counsel and uplift you with just a few well-spoken words. These are gifts. Not hobbies. Not side gigs. Gifts from God meant to be cultivated, celebrated, and—yes—even monetized.
💡 So Why Do We Stay Stuck?
Because it’s easier to follow a paycheck than to follow a calling. A paycheck comes with guarantees. A calling comes with faith. And that’s where things get hard—because faith requires trust in a process that isn’t always clear.
But let me tell you something: When you start operating in your gift, the happiness it brings can’t be bought. You might work harder than you’ve ever worked before—but your spirit won’t feel depleted. You’ll wake up with purpose. You’ll look at your life and feel proud of how your gift is serving not just you, but others.
I’m entering planning mode! 🙌🏾 In two years, I’ll be celebrating 60 wonderful years of life, and I want to start building the vision now. Theme ideas? Venue ideas Downtown Detroit or Surrounding Suburbs? Catering ideas? Party IDEAS? I have no experience at all in this area. Please help!!!!
Post ideas even if you don’t live in Detroit. I’ve never had a party because of shyness; I have a big personality and is Blessed to have wonderful family and great long-lasting friendships. I need help!
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.
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.
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What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?
It’s funny because my parents use to always say… “Don’t get old.” I knew that they weren’t saying “die early”, and now that I’m at that age they said it, I knew exactly what they mean. Because these knees are off the hook!!! 😂😂😂😂 Whew Chile!!!
Honestly, I look forward to getting old. I want to see my great nieces and nephews grow up to have families. I want to have my regular debates with my siblings. I want to take care of my mother. I look forward to these things.
When I tell you I Love my grandbaby dog…. hear me.
My one and only child bought a home and got her a dog. D
Dogs are my favorite animals and I remember when I first met him, he was three months old. It wasn’t always roses with Mr. Brendan and I. For a minute I thought we weren’t going to get along. He used to jump on me when I walked in the door. He would nibble on my ears and give me little nip bites on my arms. I think I was scared of him for a moment. He would take my hat, socks and my hairpiece making me chase him.. He was aggressive, but not hurtful. I had to realize that he was just a baby and had to learn. My daughter trained HIM WELL. Very well. He’s 3 years old now and he’s my bestie. Smart, loving and love watching his dog movies. I love taking him for rides, but He HATES RED LIGHTS. 😆😆😆
Mr. Brendan is very aggressive when playing because He is very competitive. This dog wants to win in everything. I told my daughter as the months went on, that if he was a person, he would definitely play football. He wants to win every game or he’s gonna want to keep playing until he wins. Brendan is very very strong. It amazes me now how he loves football and when he sees them run the ball, he’s up jumping, doing spins and tail chasing.
I absolutely love My Grandbaby. He loves to play. Brendan is a Black Lab. There is not a day go by that I don’t Thank God for him. I spend weeks at a time with them before going home 10 minutes away. 😆😆😆
When my now 38 year old daughter was in elementary I loved kids so much that I worked at her elementary school from Preschool to her 4th grade.
I would work as a teacher assistant, and also the playground and gym when the teachers were on lunch. I loved how kids would run up to me and give me hugs, and tell me that I was their play mom because not only was I motherly but I listened to them. I heard everything they said.
One of the gurls would always look sad. She was well dressed and her hair was always done. She was one of my favorites. When she entered the playground she came straight to me. I could tell that something was going on with her. So one day I asked her. What’s wrong sweetie? She told me that her adoptive mother beat her. She would get in trouble a lot and this went on for a while. I would listen to her daily. I was shocked. But for the life of me the person I am today can’t understand why didn’t I do more to help her. I think about her all the time now. I wonder if she’s still alive, if she ever gotten the help she needed. Is she Okay mentally? Does she have a family?
I feel that I failed her. I feel like I was so wrapped up in the love I showed the kids that I didn’t do anything to help her. I don’t remember if I asked her if she told her teacher or others. I just remember that I didn’t help.
This stays on my mind a lot as we see so many kids abused these days. Back then there were no cellphones and no internet yet. Please share your thoughts.
I would love to see her today, hug her and tell her how sorry I am that I didn’t do more to help her. ❤️❤️❤️
What’s something you believe everyone should know.
I want everyone to know that Jesus is going to crack the sky. Pray, REPENT, Believe and know that it’s going to happen. Be ready. Don’t have so much fun here that you don’t think about what’s to come. Be ready and watch.
Inside the mind of cree 