The Love Hidden in a Home-Cooked Meal 🌹

Come come sit with me, grab a drink and pull up a chair. The last couple of weeks I have been thinking about my mom. Okay, okay... my mom and food. πŸ˜„ In my opinion, my mom was a great cook. Child, let me tell you, whenever I went to visit her, I already knew what was coming. The first night would be donairs. The second night? My favourite. Ribs, rice, and tea biscuits. Now let me tell you something... I love tea biscuits. LOVE them. To this day, they are one of the things I have never been able to make quite like my mom did. She would make this sauce to go over the ribs and rice, and it was so good. If I visited in the summer, there would usually be blueberry pie. If I came in the winter, it was apple pie. The funny thing is, when I think about the people in my life, so many of them have a food attached to them. My bestie's husband loves to cook, and let me tell you, that man can make French toast. Mmm mmm. πŸ˜„ You know the kind where you tell yourself you...

Your Heart Is a Home — Not Everyone Gets a Key


We live in a world where people think they’re entitled to know everything — your relationship, your heartbreak, your arguments, your joy, your pain. And if you don’t share it, they assume you’re hiding something.

Sometimes it’s not strangers or social media… sometimes it’s family. The people who love you deeply, but also believe love means full access — to your choices, your relationships, your mistakes, your private moments. But love — real love — still has doors. And not everyone gets a key.

I have friends I adore, friends who love me just as fiercely. We’ve laughed until we cried, supported each other through storms, and shared the pieces of life that matter. I have family I would do anything for.

But even with all that love, there are places I never go in their lives. Parts of their stories they don’t talk about — and I respect that.

It’s not distance. It’s boundaries. And boundaries are sacred.

We’ve been taught to confuse transparency with connection. But your heart isn’t a public park; it’s a home.

Some people belong on the porch, where the laughter carries and the light spills out the door. Some are welcome in the living room, where conversation flows and warmth lingers. But only a few — a sacred few — get to walk barefoot through your kitchen at 2 a.m., knowing the sound your soul makes when it’s finally safe.

Protecting your peace doesn’t make you distant — it makes you wise. You can love people deeply — friends, family, anyone — without unlocking every door. You can trust and still keep some rooms private. You can be honest without being exposed.

Because the truth is, not every part of your story needs to be seen to be real. Some things are allowed to live quietly — between you, your heart, and God.

So don’t hand out keys just because someone knocks loudly, or because blood or friendship says you “have to.” Wait until they show gentleness, not curiosity. Wait until they’ve proven they’ll treat your space with care.

And remember — it’s not selfish to keep certain doors closed. It’s sacred.

“Your heart is a home — not everyone gets a key. Some will wave from the street, some will knock at the door, and a few will sit beside you in the quiet — where love doesn’t need to be explained, only felt.” 🌹


If this whisper found your heart, stay with me awhile.

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With love,
Lisa 🌹
loveandlifewithlisa.com

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