Robin Gilbert Luftig's Blog

I love so many things about sharing this blog. I share books that I’ve written, scriptures that have wowed me, and experiences that I hope can bless you.

Today I am thrilled to share the experiences of four people. These four gals (me, plus three fantastic women) share in a podcast their struggles with gratitude when they battled different types of brain trauma. In this heartfelt panel, host Cristabelle Braden invited me along with Holly Kostrzewski and Joi Kue ��to share an honest conversation about gratitude, reflection, and resilience. Each panelist brings a unique story: Robin���s sudden medical crisis and brain tumor; Holly���s traumatic injury at 18 and decades of ongoing symptoms & reinjury; and Joi���s lifelong journey with hydrocephalus, childhood surgeries, and the emotional impact of growing up with a TBI. Together, they share the first emotions they faced, from hopelessness and confusion to loneliness, depression, and fear, and how each learned to find gratitude through difficulty. Their stories highlight the power of small celebrations, community, acceptance, and learning to reframe setbacks with compassion. You are not alone!

Come check this link. https://hopesurvives.org/podcast/124

Hope Survives is a great resource for anyone who deals with brain trauma. Or if your spouse/child deals with brain trauma. The struggle goes beyond the person who battles the medical issue.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Hope Survives Podcast appeared first on Robin Luftig.

I love sharing posts from others. And this one truly touches my heart. My dear friend, Alycia Morales, speaks to many of us who never considered sharing what touches our hearts.

https://www.blueridgeconference.com/w...
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I loved all the points she lists. In fact, I have a favorite. Can you guess?

Want to learn more about writing? Treat yourself and follow Blue Ridge Christian Writers Conference. The next conference is scheduled for May 25-29, 2026.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Sharing Posts from Others appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Set your calendars and come join me in Meadville, Pennsylvania at the St. David’s Christian Writers Conference June 24-28, 2026. You’ll hear from others in the field of writing.

The registration is gearing up. They’re adding faculty and class lists so you can see what’s available. Look for me there, I’ll be teaching two classes!

I’d love to see you and talk everything writing, just as God’s guiding you.

Writers!
Consider attending
St. David’s Christian Writers Conference
June 24-28, 2026

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post St. David’s Christian Writers Conference 2026 is coming appeared first on Robin Luftig.

To my fiction writing friends, you know the trepidation … the drops of perspiration that form on your forehead … when it comes to beginning a new novel. It’s only the rush of dopamine experienced after typing “The End” that makes the process worth all the panic and self-doubt.

One of my first go-to resources when it’s time to build the structure of a new novel (yes, I’m an outliner, not pantser) is James Scott Bell’s book, Write Your Novel from the Middle (Compendium Press, 2014).

When I came across an interview between Thomas Umstattd, Jr. and Mr. Bell, I knew others would benefit from their exchange.

Here’s the blog link. Other Umstattd podcasts at Christian Publishing Show.

Happy writing!

One of my first go-to resources when it's time to build the structure of a new novel is James Scott Bell's book, Write Your Novel from the Middle.
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Full lives aren���t necessarily lives fulfilled.

Years have passed and it���s 1984. Sugar Bowersox and her family recently moved to Trotter, Kentucky, where Dungar could take the head coach of the brand new Trotter College. They were both thrilled too come back. Sugar thought once they returned to their childhood hometown, life would be smooth sailing. But those thoughts ended when a star football player is found in the weight room ��� stabbed and holding onto life. Dungar���s a mess. Their daughters are struggling as they try to find their way in their new lives. And Gran is feistier than ever. When Sugar calls Lily-Rose and shares the upheavals to their lives, she ached for her friendship with Lily-Rose and Fiona. ���Lily-Rose, I don���t know where to start. But I need you and Weeds. I sure could use a fire.���

The Ladies��� latest adventure, Ladies on a Mission, takes them to Kentucky and a world unknown to Lily-Rose and Fiona. New and not-so-new faces participate in this newest who-done-it.

The post A Conversation with James Scott Bell appeared first on Robin Luftig.

The Book of Esther is a Biblical story with two main Jewish characters, Mordecai and his niece Esther, that tells of ��the power of one woman who saved a nation. The story is beautiful, rich in culture and human interest. Mordecai loved his niece, and Esther loved and trusted her uncle. ��But above all, Esther and Mordecai both loved and wanted to honor God in all things.

While the book shares a wonderful story showing the movement of God’s hand, it also gives us a timely reminder of what our responsibility is right now. Mordecai’s vision was far-reaching and his words to Esther were a wise warning. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father���s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?

For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father���s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?
Esther 4:14

Changes are happening all around the world–if you look around, changes are even happening in your world. We may see ourselves ��as insignificant … a small cog in a very big wheel. But God, in His infinite wisdom, designed Time to include you and I for this very season.

Think of it. We weren’t born at another time to witness all the upheaval of that season, but of this. We were born into the country and family that was designed for each of us–specifically for us. And in us are desires and talents, I believe, that He specifically blessed us with to use for His glory. (If that doesn’t blow your socks off, nothing will.)

What does that mean?

That means, whatever you do, whatever you say, wherever you go, do so purposefully. Think of Rose Kennedy, the mother of a political dynasty. She viewed motherhood as the greatest profession she could have. And history proves she was steadfast in being who God had designed her to be. I imagine she had moments of longing to be out in the world with others who were enjoying the trappings of “life”, but it’s said she knew her greatest gift was to be the best mother she could be and to raise fine children to fulfill God’s call on their lives.

Rose Kennedy, the mother of a political dynasty, viewed motherhood as the greatest profession she could have.
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Doing what we’re designed to do is not often glamorous. But it is for a time as this. That may include facing your fears. Do you find yourself wanting to help others? Find an organization where you can reach out and help, all the while doing it in the name of Jesus. How about writing or speaking? You don’t need a stage or platform to share the Good News that Christ has to offer.

Think of Esther. She faced the real possibility of death for going before the king without being summoned. But her need to be who she needed to be was stronger than her fear.

We live in what seems like horrifying times. For sure, in society we don’t know what is waiting for us around the corner. ��But if we stay focused on our Savior and remember that we were born “for such a time as this”, we can walk with confidence into any trial or situation.

Remember, God’s plans for eternity include us! Let’s consider what His plans are for heaven and how our place on this earth plays into it. I promise you, when you see God’s hand moving in your life, facing your fears won’t be so difficult.

Full lives aren���t necessarily lives fulfilled.

Years have passed and it���s 1984. Sugar Bowersox and her family recently moved to Trotter, Kentucky, where Dungar could take the head coach of the brand new Trotter College. They were both thrilled too come back. Sugar thought once they returned to their childhood hometown, life would be smooth sailing. But those thoughts ended when a star football player is found in the weight room ��� stabbed and holding onto life. Dungar���s a mess. Their daughters are struggling as they try to find their way in their new lives. And Gran is feistier than ever. When Sugar calls Lily-Rose and shares the upheavals to their lives, she ached for her friendship with Lily-Rose and Fiona. ���Lily-Rose, I don���t know where to start. But I need you and Weeds. I sure could use a fire.���

The Ladies��� latest adventure, Ladies on a Mission, takes them to Kentucky and a world unknown to Lily-Rose and Fiona. New and not-so-new faces participate in this newest who-done-it.

The post A Time Such as This appeared first on Robin Luftig.

The post Looking Forward to 2026 appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Authors, if you’re going to be in the Meadville PA area on December 6th, you may want to consider participating at the Family Friendly Book Bazaar-Author Event,��along with Beautiful Balance Inspirations.

Held in conjunction with CCA’s Christmas Craft Fair and Pancake Breakfast. ��Contact Ellen Byham��for details.

The post Book Bazaar-Author Event appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Some books bless you as you read them, others bless you as you write them. This book, God’s Best During Your Worst (Kaleidoscope Publishing), has been both. Even though it took less than a year to write, it took several years of query letters, proposals, and re-writes to get it published. I was not shy regarding doing the work to get this book out. My conversation with God, “You gave me this story to write so I’ll do my part. Who publishes it is on Your plate.” Here’s a peak into God’s Best During Your Worst: A Preview. After you read this, I’d love to chat.

Moment of Truth
Journal entry: Saturday, April 2, 2011, 2:30 a.m.
I arrived at the hospital last night by ambulance. The waiting areas were crazy-busy with people everywhere. Gurneys and wheelchairs lined the hallways—each holding patients with a variety of ailments. Wish they could change emergency room smells. They are always the same: a mixture of antiseptics, urine, and vomit.

“See you upstairs honey,” I called over my shoulder as I headed to bed. “And don’t forget to set up the bikes.”

Deciding to marry again after so many years of being single was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Lew brought balance to my life. His motto: work hard but remember to play.

Our Friday dinner-out ritual gave us the opportunity to talk and laugh. We usually chose a secluded restaurant booth. There, we’d shake off the tensions of the week, his as a business analyst and mine an executive assistant to a college vice president. Our goal was to pull our focus forward.

The weather report offered the promise of perfect weather—no rain in sight—for a bike ride the next morning, so a good night’s sleep was a priority. Under the covers, I snuggled into the pillows, smooshing the fluff of the down into a just-right position. Lew lagged behind to check on our pets, set out our bikes, and lock the doors.

God had blessed me with a wonderful life. A perfect life.

As I waited for my husband and held the edge of my pillow, I realized my right hand clung tight. It wouldn’t let go—couldn’t let go.

This is odd.

Stretched out on my side, I squinted in the dim light at my hand. I saw my fingers curled, clenching the feathery pillow in a death grip.

What a whopper of a cramp.

I skootched onto my left elbow. With my free hand, I tried to pry my right fingers open. They would not release. Even as I tugged, there was no pain from my clenched hold, but loosening its grasp proved to be impossible.

After several moments, I gave a yank and jerked the pillow out of my grip. That’s when my hand began moving on its own, slowly twisting outward. Moments later, my arm began to bend, first at the wrist then contorting, rotating away from my body. A pitiful wisp of air escaped my lips in a pathetic attempt to scream. Excruciating pain seared through me. Still my arm twisted, spastic and palsied. Terrified, I thought I would soon hear bones snap. Nothing relieved my pain or the contortions.

What’s wrong with me? Am I having a stroke? Am I going to die? Is God bringing me home?

Sounds of Lew’s steps tapped on the hallway floor outside our room. The instant he walked in, I made eye contact and silently pleaded for help. Shock registered on his face. He rushed to my side and tried to open my grip and straighten my arm.

“Call 9-1-1,” I gasped a rough, airy noise.

The words had barely escaped my lips when my entire body began flailing, resembling a toy controlled by some insane puppeteer.

After Lew made a quick call to 9-1-1, he knelt at my side, watching and waiting for the seizure to pass. After what felt like an eternity, the twitching and thrashing waned. My arm relaxed. My breathing became less labored. Lew carefully pulled me close. We held each other, willing our fear away.

Reflections of flashing ambulance lights glowed through the window and pulsated against the bedroom wall.

I’ll be fine now. Help is here.

When the EMTs entered the bedroom, they immediately checked my vitals.

“Your pulse and heart rate are racing a bit, Mrs. Luftig, but that’s to be expected,” one of them said offhandedly. “Your body is reacting to trauma.” Neither of the medical team appeared alarmed, so I began to relax.

Slowly, I regained my voice. The EMTs and I maintained a strained level of small talk while they continued their examination. They wrapped a blood pressure cuff on my right arm, noted a higher than normal elevation in my blood pressure, and attributed it to my body’s response to the trauma.

Once the EMT removed the cuff, however, my arm dropped onto the bed. Instantly their demeanor changed. Chatter stopped. They began working in double-time. One of them snatched the sheets off me and reached for my legs.

“Can you wiggle your toes?” he asked. My left foot responded, but my right foot remained motionless.

“Move your right leg, Mrs. Luftig.”

Again, no response.

A deep dread washed over me. “I don’t understand.” Strangers stood in my bedroom, but I had little time or inclination to concern myself with clothes draped over the chair or other housekeeping faux pas. This was all business.

“Grasp my hands; use both of them. Reach for me.”

My left fingers reached effortlessly toward him, but my right arm and hand remained motionless.

Dead weight.

My left fingers reached effortlessly toward him, but my right arm and hand remained motionless.
Dead weight.

I willed my arm to move. I tried to wiggle my fingers—the fingers that had just moments ago resembled curled talons—even tried to move my legs and wriggle my toes, but the right side of my body refused to cooperate.

Realization hit hard—my right side was paralyzed.

The EMTs wasted no time. They expertly moved me onto the gurney and rushed me to the ambulance.

As I entered the hospital, an ER nurse assigned me to a private curtained room, where Lew and I attempted to comfort each other. To make sense of the paralysis and seizure.

“Good evening, Mrs. Luftig,” Dr. Rupen Modi said as he threw back the curtain, entering my room. “What brings you here today?”

His kind demeanor calmed me, and I immediately felt at peace.

This man will find out what’s wrong. I’ll be just fine.

After Dr. Modi’s initial evaluation of my symptoms and multiple questions, he shared his conclusion.

“Seems you’ve suffered a mini stroke. People have them more times than you think,” he said. “It may be something you’ll learn to deal with.”

It was as if all the air left the room. The thought of never knowing when I could experience the same loss of control stole my breath.

“I don’t know what I just experienced,” I said through tears, “but there’s no way I can learn to live with that. There has to be a reason for what happened!”

Dr. Modi ordered an MRI, and I willed myself to relax. We waited for the results.

By 4 a.m. I had regained control on my right side, with only a veiled numbness lingering on my right-hand fingertips.

Even with the intruding lights and hectic noises from the nurses’ station outside our curtained hideout, Lew and I dozed as we awaited the end to this nightmare.

We roused when Dr. Modi returned to my room, ashen-faced, eyes focused on the floor, not looking to either Lew or me. He walked to the right side of my bed and placed two pieces of paper face down beside me. He then lifted his gaze to meet mine.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Luftig,” he said in a soft voice as he reached for my hand, stroking the top of it ever so gently, “You have a tumor on your brain.”

What?

“The tests show you experienced a massive seizure. Right now, we’re quite sure the tumor caused it—”

Tumor?

“You did not suffer a mini stroke as we first thought—”

I have a tumor?

“It’s much more serious. The tumor on your brain is about the size of a man’s fist—”

A brain tumor?

“We’ll schedule you with a neurosurgeon later today—”

I can’t have a brain tumor.

“My colleagues and I are relatively confident the surgeon will order more tests, but my guess is you’ll need surgery within a week or two. This is not my area of expertise—I’m an emergency medicine doctor.” He raked his hair with his fingers. “And I don’t know neurology’s surgical schedule.” He picked up the pictures and stared at them. “But I know this much. You must remove that tumor before it causes any more damage. Don’t hold me to it, but you’re probably looking at surgery in ten days.”

Ten days? You can’t be serious. Is this a joke?

Lew and I stared at each other, then turned back to the doctor.

“What are you saying? I can’t have a tumor on my brain. There must be some mistake. I’ve been fine.” I willed my declaration to make it so.

With that, Dr. Modi picked the two papers from the bed and handed them to me. They were two black-and-white MRI scanned images. From the side and back views, the bones of my skull glowed white against the black film. I easily located the dark areas of my eye socket and sinus cavity. Behind them sat the folds and wrinkles of my brain.

Then I spotted it.

My tumor.

Amidst the brain matter, a light gray mass more than twice the size of my eye socket was adhered to my skull. Studying the second image—a posterior view of my skull—I realized the tumor filled approximately a quarter of the area meant for my brain.

I began to cry.

Lew, who had been sitting in a chair on my left, rose and gently pulled the two pictures from me. He wrapped his fingers around mine, comforting me the best he could. From his expression, I knew he could not comprehend the news that had just assaulted us.

“Mrs. Luftig, can I get the hospital chaplain for you? A priest or maybe a pastor?”

Priest? Pastor? I don’t need them, I need …

“Dr. Modi,” I said. “Are you a man of faith?”

The expression on his face changed from serious concern to peaceful reflection.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” he said smiling. “I called out to God a few months past. He was there, waiting for me.” The doctor paused, as if remembering an earlier time.

He continued, “I know God well. That’s why I asked if you’d prefer to share this news and pray with someone.”

“Please, Dr. Modi, I’m not interested in finding a priest or hospital chaplain to pray with me. I want you to pray for me.”

That was odd.

Here I lay in a hospital bed, facing the greatest fear I had ever known, and I asked the doctor, a man I’d met only a few hours earlier, to pray for me.

A profound sense of peace washed over my tiny, curtained ER room. With Lew and Dr. Modi on opposite sides of my bed, we reached out a free hand to one another. Uncertainty loomed. Yet an unmistakable, almost palpable, presence of God pressed in.

“Dear heavenly Father,” I whispered. “Thank You for being the God above all gods. Thank You for the blessings You have bestowed on me today. I know the stars hang in the heavens because You put them there. You make the sun rise in the East. Your Word tells me that You knew me before I took form in my mother’s belly and even know the hairs on my head.”

Pausing, I took a breath and continued with timid confidence.

“Father, I know this tumor is no surprise to You. I know You have been aware of the day, hour, and moment I would have my seizure. I know You were even there in my bedroom when I thought I was dying.”

Tears streamed my cheeks, yet I continued.

“I know what I know, Lord, but I have to say I’ve never been this afraid before. Have You forgotten me? Please help me.” I squeezed Lew’s hand. “Father, I’m afraid and confused. Please stay close. Amen.”

After moments of silence and with a raspy voice, thick from holding back tears, Lew prayed.

“Heavenly Father, we love and honor You. Please, give me back my wife.”

All he had was this one bold prayer. Yet in his shock, he still honored God.

“Dear God,” Dr. Modi offered his part of our group prayer with a quiet voice. “Thank You for Your provisions that fill our day. I pray You bless Robin. Help her trust You through this process and after. Amen.”

We let go of one another’s grasp. I became cognizant of the voices and clamoring noises beyond the curtain. I could feel the sweet presence of God in the still air around us. A profound serenity washed over me. That’s when I heard four words from deep in my heart. Words I had heard weeks earlier.

Do you trust Me?

In a flash, I recalled the moment in the car when I’d heard God speak those words.

Now, I may only have ten days until surgery … less than two weeks to accomplish everything I hoped to accomplish, experience everything I yearned to experience, and say everything I wanted to say to those who needed to hear from me.

Though Dr. Modi deferred the responsibility of giving me a more in-depth assessment of my condition to the neurosurgeon, it was glaringly obvious he didn’t say I’d be just fine. He gave no guarantee I would make it through surgery, let alone have a life beyond it. And if I did survive the surgery, there were no promises of what type of life I would lead.

Lew leaned over the padded bedrail to give me a kiss. His breath smelled of stale coffee. I must have been a bit pungent myself. Fear and adrenaline coated my skin. My tongue tried to wet my parched mouth. I had to be satisfied with ice chips. I don’t even have the luxury of smelling of stale coffee. It didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered. I may die soon. I took in a deep breath and tried to focus.

In those early morning hours, my mind raced, seeking out the promises of God’s trustworthiness. One thought stood front and center: Do you trust Me?

Memories of rich experiences throughout my life faded. This was the motherlode—my moment of truth.

I may only have ten days to live, and I needed to know if I believed God was trustworthy. Was my faith strong enough? Could I believe that His umbrella of protection would be enough to keep me safe from life’s tragedies? From death? From being less than I was?

If you’re in the Canton Ohio area, October 10-12, I’ll be in the Belden Village Mall for the Hometown Vender Market. Stop by, I’d love to meet you.

The post God’s Best During Your Worst: A Preview appeared first on Robin Luftig.

They may say it with a smile, or with a scowl. They often speak through gifts or demands. But however the people come across and show or tell who they are–believe them.

So many are struggling with this simple fact. Phrases like, “But they were so nice” are said. Or, “You snapped … I thought you were angry with me” keep many people confused.

Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.
1 John 4:1

How are we to test a spirit and see if it’s from God? ��One of the best ways is to examine review the words being said and what is declared in the person’s life. Are words and actions matching? Do they act in private like they do in public? That’s a good tell.

Pause. ��Do the words or actions point to Christ or the teachings of Christ, or do they point to self gratification? 1 John 4 continues:

This is how you can recognize the Spirit of God: Every spirit that acknowledges that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, but every spirit that does not acknowledge Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you have heard is coming ��and even now is already in the world.
1 John 4:2-3

People are still reeling over the death of Charlie Kirk and several voices are vying for attention. It is wise to be on guard. Remember, the Apostle Paul wrote of what Christians need to strive for when trying to emulate Jesus:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.
Galatians 5:22-23

It makes my heart happy when I review the list of the Fruits of the Spirit. So what do we do when people show these characteristics? More times than not, they can be believed. We watch … and learn … and then we believe them.

What say you?

What do you wonder about?�� Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Believe Them appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Life’s been hard of late, but it helps–with everything–to focus on Truth. It can be incredibly difficult to pull away from all the activity surrounding us. But truth is still there, waiting to be found. Where to find wisdom? God’s words are the only place to find undeniable truth.

Here’ s a nugget about being alone:

 “… And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
Matthew 28:20

When you feel like you don’t matter:

“I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after your body has been killed, has authority to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him. Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”
Luke 12:4-7

When you’re afraid of what might be in the future:

“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”
Matthew 6:28-34

So fret if you must, but know it’s for no reason. Surprises can knock the wind from our sails. I totally get that. But know God’s plan are stronger than time.

The Lord foils the plans of the nations;
he thwarts the purposes of the peoples.
But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever,
the purposes of his heart through all generations.
Psalm 33:11

For me, when I focus on truth, Life falls into perspective. I hope it does for you as well.

What say you?

What do you wonder about?  Are you happy … or are you doing what you never thought you’d do? Do you see consistencies … or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I’d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book, God’s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my Book page.

The post Focus on Truth appeared first on Robin Luftig.