I met Charlie Kirk through the fire of our shared faith and the call to be voices in a world that often misunderstands us. He didn’t just talk about possibility; he opened doors for people like me. It was Charlie who arranged those visits I took to the White House to meet President Donald Trump, those grassroots leadership summits, those moments when a room full of strangers became a room full of allies. Because of him, I found a platform, a place to speak, a place to write, and a network of brothers and sisters across the country who shared a stubborn commitment to faith, family, and freedom.
All of this was because of Turning Point USA.
Around the country, I’ve heard stories like mine: friendships forged in the crucible of his conferences, partnerships that endured beyond the spotlight, and a confidence that comes from knowing you aren’t alone in the fight. Charlie’s mission wasn’t to erase our differences but to anchor us in core truths: the sanctity of life, the defense of religious liberty, and the duty to steward our nation with courage and grace. He was a warrior for Christ, bold in faith, clear in purpose, and unafraid to stand for what he believed.
His assassination weighs heavily, but it does not pull me into fear. It compels me to be bolder, to walk more humbly, and to keep the flame he lit burning bright in my own life and in the lives of those I mentor. I’ve learned that true boldness isn’t bravado; it’s consistent faith lived out in public and private moments — both when no one is watching and when the cameras are rolling.
To those who would quickly label him a racist or distort his motives, I speak from the season of knowing him: Charlie spoke for the dignity and equality of every person before God. He did not seek to divide; he sought to unify under a Biblical ethic that honors the Creator and respects the laws that govern nations. He stood for strong borders and responsible immigration, not out of hardness, but from a conviction that nations must steward their people, their resources, and their future with justice and compassion. And he believed that courage in faith is not the absence of controversy but the willingness to stand for truth, even when it is costly.
In 2018, Charlie sponsored my attendance at his Black Leaders Summit, and that gift changed the trajectory of my life. It planted in me the resolve to return to my community with something more than a voice: with a resolve to serve, teach, and lead. After Charlie’s death, I’m recommitting myself to the next generation, teens, ages 12 to 18, teaching them Scripture and apologetics on Wednesday nights at my local church. If you want your teenagers to learn the Word and learn how to defend their faith in the public square, take them to a Bible-believing church.
Charlie taught me that courage without kindness is hollow, and kindness without courage is shallow. I carry that with me as I mentor, as I teach, and as I live out my faith in a culture hungry for answers. For Charlie. Revival. And may the Lord comfort his wife and children as we continue the journey he began, toward truth, toward grace, and toward a Cross-shaped future that shines into every door.
