Liz Roberson




"Ok, bye Mama!" My two year-old said sweetly, blowing me a kiss for the umpteenth time since he had sneaked into my bedroom during my 'quiet time' for a quick cuddle. "Love you!" He waved and closed my door.
I smiled to myself, doing my best to commit the moment to memory. Too many of these moments are already things of the past. He is getting so big and so independent so quickly.
We had not seen eye to eye much of the day—much of the week, really— about what he was and was not permitted to do, and I was surprised to see him so affectionate toward me at all, things considered.
What trust! The thought occurred to me out of nowhere. Trust...

The Serving Dish


She was an exquisite dish.

Of all the dishes that she could possibly have been, she was grateful that she was a serving dish. Not only was she a lovely and valuable dish, but she was useful. And to this dish in particular, that was all that really mattered in life. Thousands upon thousands of meals had transferred from kitchen to patron and back again. And they were really very good meals.

Friendships were forged over meals she served. Hands shook across tables where she was placed. Romances sparked…and a few fizzled out. There were celebrations, both in life and in death.

Her service was greatly appreciated and she was used to do so over and over and over again.

Then one day, the Proprietor took her in His hands and running His fingers over the intricate patterns on her face, smiled and placed her out of reach onto a shelf with the other décor in the dining room.


How Much Can One Heart Break?


*The following post was originally published a few years back after I had the notion to sit in my driveway and smash a potted plant to smithereens. The message took shape as the process went on. I took photos of each step, which are long gone, but the spirit of the message remains.
I hope you are blessed.

How much can one heart break?

Once upon a time, there was a plant in a pot. A potted plant.

At first glance, the pot looked to be intact. It mostly held the plant together. It kept other things off of the plant. It functioned. But if you looked closely you could see that the plant was quite dry. It had not been well cared for. Its refreshment had come from rainfall alone...but wasn't enough to sustain life.

One day, a man came along and found the potted plant. He instantly loved it, longed to restore life to its desolation. So He took it home.

He set it on a work table and took in its condition. Clearly this plant needed extra care.

Suddenly, in a seemingly unnecessary move, he swung...connected...and broke it open. The contents spilled away, on display for anyone who would look. But who would look?


When The Burden Is Too Heavy To Bear


Last night, we found ourselves traveling home in the dark after a day trip to another town here in Texas. The road we had taken ran parallel to train tracks much of the way and I found myself captivated by these vast machines carrying freight.

One train was so long that it was still passing us after several minutes, even with each of us moving in opposite directions. It was very dark out on those country roads and at times I could only make out a slight shadow of movement just beyond the trees.


Why You Can Move On And Still Be Okay


I have moved 25 times in a little over 30 years.

This occurred to me last night when I was helping a friend pack up her things. And actually, I have moved quite a bit more than this...that is simply the number of places that I have lived.

It is a chore to move. But the chore is lessened by less things. Often I discover just how many things I possess that are absolutely worthless to me in the moving process. Stuff gets donated and given away. Sometimes there’s a garage sale if I’m feeling particularly ambitious.

When I have whittled down my belongings to what I deem absolutely necessary to travel with to my next abode, then the packing begins. I have learned that good packing material is imperative. Labeling is not. It all gets stacked together in a hard-to-reach spot anyway by strong and selfless friends who show up to help.

Something inevitably breaks. Usually the thing wrapped the most carefully.


The Worst Friend I Ever Had


She stared back at me, waiting for my reply.
But what could I say? Her words knifed through me, once more:

Who do you think you are?

Better yet, she had continued, how can you possibly think that you’re cut out for this?

Do you even understand the kind of drive that it takes to do what you’re telling me you want to do? Years of paying dues. Rejection. Not to mention the sheer skill level involved. And you, quite frankly, do not possess it. Even if you HAVE what it takes, so do thousands of other people.

And have you seen yourself, lately? Not exactly marketable. Not very impressive at all.

Just what is it that you think you have going for you?

I took a deep breath. Sighed it back out.

She scowled at me. Nothing I could possibly say would convince her that I was capable of doing this. But was I capable? Or was she right? Why did I keep listening to her?


Some Walls are Meant to Come Down


"Did you hear about those soldiers?" She asked softly.

I nodded once and continued flattening dough. "I had heard something about that," I replied. How do you tell someone that some days when you read a headline to do with war or soldiers in the Middle East, you just scroll past them? And then read gossip on 'Celebrity Look-Alikes'. Again.

My friend gave me a knowing look, telling me her thoughts as I half-listened, partly thinking that I really should be aware of these things and partly thinking that I really didn't want to be...


Lady Wisdom


I was blessed by this passage this morning and I thought I'd share:

Proverbs 8:22-35, Lady Wisdom speaking:

The Eternal created me; it happened when His work was beginning,
        one of His first acts long ago.
Before time He established me,
        before the earth saw its first sunrise...


An Uncomfortable Encounter


Last year, while beginning the last trimester of my pregnancy, I scored a seat at a worship leader 'round table' with All Sons and Daughters. Don't ask me how...I received an email, I followed the link, I signed up. I went back to try to sign up for a few more spots if possible for our worship team at church and the message "This event is full" showed on my screen.

Did I seriously just score the very last spot? You know I tried again. And again. Yep. The very last spot.

When I arrived at the event, it was fairly early so I grabbed a spot in the back of the room at one of five unoccupied tables. There were freebies and handouts at each chair, so I sat and began to read from a magazine.

A few minutes passed and then I had this feeling like my space was about to be invaded. Out of all of the empty tables in the room, a man chose the one I was sitting at to join. Perfect.

"Hey, how ya doin'?" He asked happily.

"Oh...good. You?" I glanced up and smiled in that keep-your-creeperness-away-from-me way...


You Make Me Brave


In this video, I share a little about why I do what I do. Piercing into the darkness with His all-consuming light.