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. 😄 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. 😄 You know the kind where you tell yourself you...
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Forgiveness

Forgiveness

Sit with me for a minute — I’ve got something on my heart.
There was a time someone gave me a book to read. It sat on my kitchen table for almost a year. Every time I walked past it, I’d think, not today. I knew deep down that when I finally opened it, it would change me — and it did.

Looking back now, I think that year wasn’t procrastination — it was preparation. I wasn’t ready to face what that book would ask of me. See, forgiveness sounds simple when it’s a word on a page, but when you’ve been hurt, really hurt, it’s a mountain you don’t even want to climb. So I kept walking past that book — just like I used to hold on to grudges and memories I wasn’t ready to forgive. I thought holding on would keep me safe, but all it really did was keep me chained to the pain.

The book was The Shack. And when I finally read it, it broke me down in all the best ways. It taught me that forgiveness isn’t about pretending it didn’t hurt. It’s about choosing peace over pain — over and over again.

When you forgive, it no longer holds you hostage to the pain — it gives you freedom.
You don’t forget what happened, but you stop letting it chain itself to your heart. Forgiveness isn’t about pretending it didn’t hurt; it’s about saying, I deserve peace more than I deserve revenge. It’s not for them — it’s for me. It’s the quiet release that says, I’m done carrying this weight.

After I finally read the book — and later watched the movie — I was never the same. Something in me shifted. It wasn’t dramatic, no thunder or lightning, just a quiet breaking open that made room for peace. Forgiving wasn’t easy. Some days, it still isn’t. But I can tell you this — I love the peace in my heart far more than I ever loved the pain. The pain felt familiar, but peace feels like home.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean the story didn’t happen — it just means I’m no longer trapped in that chapter. I’ve learned that letting go isn’t weakness; it’s strength covered in grace. And if you’re standing where I once stood, staring at the book you’re afraid to open, trust me — when you finally do, you’ll find that the story was never about the pain. It was always about the healing.

Whisper: Letting go doesn’t erase the story — it just makes room for healing to begin.

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