“We Don’t Take Canadian Money” An Old 12 Mile Gratiot Walmart Story

Before I even step foot in Walmart, I ask the Lord to cover my day. I’m not the type to walk in with an attitude—I smile, I greet, I do my job. But every now and then, somebody walks in like they’re auditioning for a role in “Let Me Test Her Patience.”

One Saturday evening, a man around 41 walks up to my register. His total? $4.68. He hands me a $5 bill and 68 cents in Canadian coins. Now listen—everybody and their 4-year-old knows we don’t take Canadian money in the U.S. So, I say, “Sir, we don’t take Canadian coins.” He hits me with, “WHY? Where’s the sign that says that?”

I told him, “Ain’t no sign. We just don’t take Canadian money.” I finish the transaction out of the $5, and he suddenly wants a refund. I asked him why? He says because I want to know where is the sign that says no Canadian money. This thang clearly wanted to argue with me. So, I said well in order to get your money back I will have to call a CSM. He was like call em then. Because he didn’t like how I said it. Said I wasn’t “professional.” Mr. Sir Man, ** didn’t say all that LOL* what other way is there to say “we don’t take Canadian money”?

My CSM, comes over. He doesn’t want to talk to her. She tried to talk to him but he gon say. I don’t want to speak to YOU, I WANT TO SPEAK TO SOMEONE HIGHER!!!! So here comes our Assistant Manager. And this man tells him that I wasn’t professional. Says he used to work for Walmart. Well then, sir—you should know the policy!

He refused to sign the refund slip. Tried to snatch the money from my hand. But I held firm. I knew if he acted out, everything he said about me would crumble. So, he took the money politely and walked away. But I could feel that he wanted to snatch it so bad. I was cracking up in my mind!

💭 My Question to You:

Why do some folks take “NO” so personally? Like the rule was made just for them. Do you feel like you’re always right when you’re out in public—at a store, restaurant, wherever?

Why do you blog?

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

lacreaselovesthelord@yahoo.com

Chapter 2: Finding My Groove in Brush Park

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.

Because this next chapter? It’s mine to write.

Tuesday Morning June 23, 2015 I had a dream.

I had a dream that I was in this building with lots of rooms and people. In every room it had only a HUGE MIRROR. I WAS IN CHARGE, like in all of my SPIRITUAL dreams.

We were surrounded by MIRRORS. Instead of looking at the person, I was looking in the mirror at the person I was telling to “wake up “as I was pointing to where the EXIT doors were. I knew the world was coming to an end, and if they didn’t listen to me, their faces would BURST INTO A BIG BALL OF FIRE, which meant they DIED. I wanted people to LIVE ((which meant)) getting out of the building. But they were in another ((mind set)) and felt why was it necessary to leave…. in the first place?

Instead of them focusing on leaving, they chose to put all their ENERGY into wondering…. WHY I WANTED THEM TO EXIT SO BADLY. Some people were looking at me like I was crazy and didn’t listen. For some reason they weren’t comprehending that Jesus was on his way, and it was their last chance to be saved. Instead, they chose to wonder why I was telling them to EXIT. As time went on, I was so deep into telling people where the EXIT signs where, that as this one person I was standing next to FACE BURST INTO A BALL OF FLAMES… I was too close, and mines caught on fire too. I was dying.

In my DREAM… it was like I came to myself ((knew I was dreaming)) and told God that I wanted to LIVE. I told him that I wanted to ((wake up from my death)) and go back into the building to tell the other people where the EXIT signs were. Well, God listened to me, and he permitted me to go back into this BUILDING with lots of mirrors, rooms and people to tell them one again where the EXIT signs were. When I got back into my dream… I looked into the mirror to tell this other person where the EXIT signs were and saw that MY FACE was covered with a WHITE TOWEL. I could still hear my voice, it was my body, but my face was covered. My face was burned up so bad that God put a WHITE TOWEL over it. I remember not caring at all, because all I wanted to do was tell people about the EXITS. After telling so many people and going room to room, I heard GOD SAY TO ME LOUD AND CLEAR……now its time FOR YOU….. TO HEAD FOR THE EXIT. I heard him, and I got out of the now….. BURNING BUILDING. All who didn’t listen to me…. perished.

As women, we MUST stop talking down on men

As women, we must stop talking down on men when we’re angry, or how about PERIOD?

Words spoken in pain can slice deeper than we know. Respect in relationships or friendships is not optional—it’s foundational. Learn to smile with your eyes, speak with touch, and connect from across the room. Those are the subtle ways that build lasting intimacy.

We attracted certain energies not just by accident, but through patterns in conversation and behavior—that’s deep inner work. It’s about choosing peace, partnership, and maturity over ego and emotional chaos. Look for spiritual and emotional intelligence—not just chemistry. Some folks think love means harmony 24/7, but it’s not the disagreement—it’s how we treat each other during it.

Let’s never gaslight our men, nor make them pay emotionally for the relationships before us. That behavior doesn’t prove power—it reveals insecurity. Testing your man, trying to spark jealousy, oversharing with family and friends—those are trust-killers. Some things once said cannot be taken back.

If something doesn’t feel right between you and your partner, talk to God immediately. If you find yourself having to be disrespected and to do the disrespecting, it’s OVER. Living life does not go that way. God didn’t design us to be locked in emotional warfare. Choose peace. Choose wholeness. Choose divine alignment. Don’t waste your divine time.

Learn the lesson, move forward, and keep your spirit open to the person He has for you. You’re not a failure—it just wasn’t the alignment meant to carry you through.

Relationships are classrooms. Don’t ignore the lessons.

“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.

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.

🚫 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.

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.

My Stroke Wasn’t the End—It Was the Assignment

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

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