I don’t often write about things that can feel “too political” or polarizing, but this week I can’t stay silent. Something shifted. It started with a video I unexpectedly came across on Facebook (one I will never unsee), and it’s left me reflecting on conviction, conversation, and the way one life lived boldly can leave a lasting impact. For me, that picture was found in the life of Charlie Kirk.
Let me begin by saying that I know not everyone will have the same opinion as me…and I’m okay with that. I’d love to have a conversation with you! I have had several conversations with friends this week about this event in particular. I’m grateful for the opportunity to listen and understand another’s perspective and for the opportunity to share my own – without the desire or expectation of changing anyone’s mind, but simply to be seen and heard in a world that does very little of both. But I also very strongly believe that the best of these conversations happen in the context of established relationship, face-to-face or voice-to-voice and NOT through a glowing screen. Screens often eliminate the humanity element of talking together that you cannot help but acknowledge when a friend is across the table. We don’t need more keyboard ninjas, we need men and women courageous enough to sit in the uncomfortable, the awkward, and sometimes messy talks with others. That’s where healing and understanding and true community happens.
In the past, what I witnessed of Charlie’s work was rooted in faith. He didn’t go looking for arguments or fights. He went to college campuses, set up a table, and simply invited students to a conversation. His goal, as I saw it, wasn’t to belittle or make anyone look foolish, but to encourage young adults to think deeply about their convictions, their beliefs, and their foundations. That kind of intentionality — meeting people where they are with honesty and courage — left an impression on me.
Charlie’s example challenges me. I saw countless clips where a young man or woman approached the mic with a differing viewpoint or a hot-button question, and the crowd around them booed. He didn’t smirk or pile on; instead, he asked the audience to quiet down and give that person a chance to speak. When an angry debater approached with yelling and profanity, he remained calm, respectful, and still gave them uninterrupted mic time. And I’d find myself thinking, “Let me be more like that.”
We could use Charlie’s actions as our example: to be bold and unwavering in our convictions. To share our faith not just in words, but in how we live, how we vote, and how we steward the leadership and influence entrusted to us.
I also want to acknowledge his family. Because I followed Erika, I often saw little glimpses of their personal life — their take on marriage, sabbath rest, parenting, and faith. I’ve always believed you can tell a lot about a man by the way his wife speaks of him, and Erika radiated with love, admiration, and respect for Charlie. They modeled what it looks like to love and support one another with Christ at the center. Even from a distance, I admired their commitment to one another and to their faith.
I rarely talk about or share anything that might be considered polarizing, because the internet can be a mean place. But there’s a stirring in me that says this is worth saying. While I hope my audience knows I follow Jesus, I also wouldn’t say I’ve been bold in my faith — in sharing it, in pointing clearly to Jesus as the only true source of joy, peace, salvation, and eternal life. But now is the time. I think many of us are feeling it, too.
Maybe it’s not so much about Charlie himself, but about what his death represents: the recognition of evil, and the urgency to rise up and live differently. It’s about witnessing a husband, father, brother, and son shot while sitting unarmed at a table — a table where he had invited others into a conversation. It’s about remembering that there are two children, a wife, and countless family members and friends whose lives will never be the same. And it’s about realizing the immeasurable kingdom impact one single life can make when lived boldly for Christ.
I once saw a reel where a woman said that the devil we’re fighting today isn’t the one that tempted Jesus in the wilderness — because when Jesus died on the cross, the battle was already won. This enemy knows he’s already lost. His tactics, no matter how destructive, will never bring him true victory against a believer bound for Heaven. And strangely, that truth brings peace. It also stirs in me a deep desire to live boldly — to use my words, my faith, and my life in a way that points to Jesus and brings light into the darkness.
I know not everyone had the same perspective of Charlie. Some of my dear friends certainly didn’t. And you know what? That’s okay. Because what it did was open the door for conversation, for understanding, and for curiosity about different viewpoints.
I’ll be the first to admit I’m not big into politics. There’s likely more I don’t know than I do. But I believe with all my heart that one of the most important skills missing in our culture today is the ability to agree to disagree. To have a civil and respectful conversation out of simple curiosity. To stop viewing everything as “us vs. them.” We have so much more to offer our families, our communities, and our country than to be trapped in that mindset.
And let’s not forget this: our youth and young adults do have opinions worth listening to. They have minds that need mentoring, hearts that need encouragement, and lives that deserve respect — even when they see the world differently than we do.
If anything, this past week has revealed something deeper stirring. I’ve heard it from others too — there’s a spiritual shift happening. Churches across the country were filled with young people and new families this Sunday. To me, there is no better response to tragedy than to turn to Jesus: for healing, for hope, and for a future that cannot be shaken.
May we honor Charlie’s life not by arguing harder, but by listening better. Not by building walls, but by opening tables — where light, truth, and love can be shared.
Whether at Four Arrows Farms or in anything I create, my mission has always been to create light and beauty for your home and your gatherings, or to offer encouragement for your heart. Candles may seem simple, but they serve as a reminder that even the smallest flame can push back the darkest night. My prayer is that this space, these words, and even the candles we pour would inspire you to live with that same intentional light — bold in your convictions, gentle in your conversations, and always pointing to the hope we have in Christ.
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