Sometimes all I can do is write. Often it is in a journal, but this moment feels different. My emotions have gone in every direction since the news broke about Charlie Kirk.
As a dad, I have sobbed thinking of the deep grief Charlie’s wife and children are going through. I’ve felt anger at the brutal, ugly reality of sin when it reveals itself in such a gruesome way. The current situation and climate we are in as Americans make me angry.
What follows is my process—how I am attempting to work out the emotions and thoughts I’m carrying. I won’t do this perfectly. Feel free to pass this by if you’ve already processed or are not ready to revisit the news. But if you find it helpful, share it with someone else. We need to be in this together. Unity is not about agreeing at every point; it is about seeing one another as human beings with value that goes far beyond ideology.
Welcome to my journal…
Moment
Shortly after the shot rang out in Utah, my best friend texted me, “Charlie Kirk just got shot.” My heart dropped, and like many, I went straight to social media. What I saw there unfolded in real time before my eyes—a reality my generation has grown used to.
It wasn’t always like this. I still remember listening to the radio as bombing raids began in Afghanistan. But now, we slide open our phones and watch tragedy as it happens.
Some moments shape generations. My grandparents spoke of Pearl Harbor. For me, it was September 11, 2001. I can still see the second plane slicing into the tower, the collapse, the crowds running in fear. That day reshaped how we viewed the world.
For many young people, Charlie’s death will mark a similar moment. He had won the hearts of students across the U.S., modeling heated yet civil discourse. What happened in an instant may shape their worldview for years to come.
In that moment, Charlie’s message became more real than ever.
Why
In the face of tragedy, the human heart cries out for a safer, more just world. We long to believe that when we kiss our loved ones goodbye, we’ll see them again that night. We want our children safe in schools, our cities free from violence, our churches free from fear.
But as Habakkuk once cried, “How long, Lord, must I call for help and You do not listen or cry out to You about violence and You do not save?” (Habakkuk 1:2, CSB). The question of why is not new.
Why do these things happen? Why such hatred? Why do we live in such an evil world? The very asking of “why” reveals our longing for faith, hope, and love—the foundations of human flourishing.
Our nation’s founding documents point to this same desire:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal… endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.”
From the beginning, our American experiment acknowledged that these truths come not from man, but from God.
Yet somewhere along the way, we lost sight. Individualism has grown like a cancer. The “I” has become more important than the “we.” Words became weapons, ideas became identities, and silencing others became the only way to feel secure.
But violence and division cannot sustain a society. They cannot sustain us. So we must ask again: How do I move forward?
Now
I want to move forward with faith, hope, and love—not just for myself, but for others. Charlie’s own words can guide us here:
“Disagreement is not just welcome, it is invited. We want to have those tough conversations. That’s what it’s all about.”
Civil discourse is hard, but necessary. When people stop talking, Charlie warned,
“That’s when you get violence. That’s when civil war happens, because you start to think the other side is so evil, and they lose their humanity.”
As Christians, we must resist that drift. We must ground our truth not in political fashion, but in the eternal Word of God. Charlie himself said:
“I’m nothing without Jesus. I’m a sinner. I fall incredibly short of the glory of God. We all do… everything I do incorporates Jesus Christ.”
That is where our hope lies. Not in our ability, not in our strength, not in our arguments.
As Paul wrote, “At that time you were without Christ… without hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus, you who were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ” (Ephesians 2:12–13, CSB).
By grace, our failures don’t define us. Jesus does.
Me
As for me, I will not be ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. I want to communicate with compassion, not hostility. I want to resist the temptation to make myself the center when it is all about God and His story.
Just minutes before his life was taken at Utah Valley University, Charlie was pointing people to Scripture. He read 2 Corinthians 5:15:
“And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”
Then he reminded the crowd:
“Jesus Christ was a real person. He lived a perfect life. He was crucified, died, and rose on the third day, and he is Lord and God over all.”
Even in his final moments, Charlie pointed to Jesus.
And so must we.
Now is the time for Christians to rise with courage, to proclaim the Gospel without shame, and to engage in civil discourse with conviction and compassion—because the world desperately needs the hope and truth that only Christ can provide.
“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” (Romans 1:16, CSB)
Thank you for your insight and passion for the Gospel of Jesus Christ!