Faith, Grief & Current Events Archives

The Anniversary of Charlie Kirk’s Death:The Aftermath Was Amazing

Posted on September 10, 2026September 11, 2026 by Bob Richley

Open Bible and candle inside a historic church with stained-glass windows representing Charlie Kirk's Memorial

Today is the anniversary of Charlie Kirk’s death.

At exactly 12:23 p.m. Mountain Time on September 10, 2025, a bullet struck Charlie Kirk in the neck while he was speaking to students at Utah Valley University. Within moments, a husband, a father, and a young man who had devoted his life to his convictions was gone.

I remember when it happened.

I had seen a few videos of Charlie Kirk before his death. Like many people, I learned much more about him afterward. The media exploded with coverage. Social media filled with videos, photographs, memories, arguments, accusations, prayers, and opinions. And, as so often happens, division followed.

Some people cheered, and some people cried. Some celebrated his death, while others mourned as though they had lost someone they personally knew. But what saddened me the most, what broke my heart, was not the political loss. It was the human loss.

Two little children lost their dad.
A wife lost her husband.
Parents lost their son.
Friends lost someone they loved.

And, in my own heart, I believe a nation lost a saint.

I know that word can make people uncomfortable. Saints, after all, are not perfect people. They are people who belong to God. People who stumble, speak imperfectly, make mistakes, and yet choose to live for something greater than themselves.

That is how I have come to think about Charlie. Not as a perfect man. Not as a political symbol. But as a husband, a father, a believer, and a man who left this world far too soon.

And then something unexpected happened.

The story did not end at 12:23 p.m.

In some ways, that is where another story began.

The aftermath was amazing.

What followed was grief, yes—but also an extraordinary outpouring of faith, courage, love, and determination.

And that is the story I want to remember today.

His Kids

Charlie and Erika had two young children, a daughter born in 2022 and a son born in 2024. We don’t know much about the children, and I think there is a reason for that. Their family made a deliberate effort to keep them out of public view, and I respect that.

They were very young when the shooter killed their father. They deserved the chance to grieve without becoming public property.

We do know that they are now four and two years old. We also know that they are among the few people who have the privilege of using their father’s desk. There is something about that image that stays with me—a little child sitting where their father once sat, surrounded by the work he left behind.

We don’t know all the details of how the children were cared for in those first terrible days, and we shouldn’t pretend that we do. Their family has rightly protected that information. We do know that Erika was surrounded by family, friends, Turning Point USA staff, security personnel, and people who stepped in to help carry the enormous burden suddenly placed upon her.

We also know that Second Lady Usha Vance offered Erika something that no security detail or organization could provide: a word of comfort from one mother to another.

A year later, Erika has spoken about the advice Usha gave her after Charlie’s death. Erika told Usha, “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

Usha gave her an analogy about being on an airplane with children. When there are only fifteen minutes left before landing, the children may be screaming, throwing things, and completely out of control. But you don’t have to figure out the rest of your life. You only have to get through those next fifteen minutes.

Then the next fifteen minutes.

Erika has carried those words with her.

“15 minutes at a time.”

There is wisdom in that for anyone who has ever grieved. Sometimes the next fifteen minutes are all we can handle. And sometimes God gives us grace for those fifteen minutes, and then gives us grace for the next ones.

A year later, Erika has described grief as something that still comes in waves, particularly around birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. Yet she continues to move forward.

And then there was the aftermath.

It was amazing.

The people came

On September 21, 2025, ten days after Charlie Kirk was murdered at Utah Valley University, thousands upon thousands of people gathered at State Farm Stadium in Glendale, Arizona, for his memorial.

The final estimates were roughly 90,000 to 100,000 people. About 70,000 filled the stadium itself, with additional people watching from the nearby Desert Diamond Arena and other overflow areas.

Think about that.

Nearly one hundred thousand people showed up to mourn a husband, a father, and a young man who had spent his life talking to young Americans about faith, freedom, and the direction of their country.

The memorial was not simply a political event. It was filled with prayer, preaching, Scripture and Christian music.

It felt to many people like a funeral, a worship service and a revival meeting all at once.

And people watched.

Fox News alone averaged 5.2 million viewers during its live coverage of the memorial, peaking at 6.6 million during Erika’s remarks. Its YouTube livestream accumulated approximately 2.6 million views.

Turning Point’s Andrew Kolvet said the production and streaming partners counted more than 100 million overall streams of the memorial. That is an extraordinary number. To clarify, the organization and its production partners reported this figure, not an independently audited count of 100 million individual people.

And then something else happened.

Young people didn’t walk away

They stepped forward.

Within days of Charlie’s death, Turning Point USA began receiving an extraordinary number of inquiries from people who wanted to become involved.

On September 15, Andrew Kolvet reported that TPUSA had received more than 37,000 inquiries from people wanting to get involved and start chapters.

By the time of the memorial, the number had climbed dramatically.

Before the memorial, TPUSA said it had approximately 60,000 inquiries. After the memorial, it received more than 120,000 inquiries from people interested in starting new high school and college chapters.

A year later, TPUSA reports that its college chapters have grown by 64 percent and its high-school clubs by approximately 180 percent since Charlie’s death. The Washington Post has independently reported similar growth, putting the increase at about 64 percent for college chapters and 168 percent for high-school chapters when comparing the most recent school year with the previous one.

The Times has also reported that Turning Point has gained roughly one million donors during the past year.

Whatever one thinks of Turning Point USA’s politics, those numbers tell us something important:

Charlie Kirk’s death did not cause the organization he built to disappear.

It caused many people to ask, What can I do?

And then people opened their Bibles

This may be the statistic that amazes me most.

In September 2025, Americans bought approximately 2.4 million Bibles.

That was part of a broader increase in Bible sales, which were already rising before Charlie’s death. Circana data show that Bible sales in September were substantially up from the previous year, and that more than 18 million Bibles had been sold in the United States by the end of the first nine months of 2025.

So I want to be careful here.

We cannot prove that every Bible purchased was purchased because of Charlie Kirk.

We shouldn’t pretend we can.

But we can say this:

In the very month that America watched a young Christian husband and father murdered in public, Americans bought 2.4 million Bibles—the highest monthly total of the year.

There were also reports from churches around the country of increased attendance and young people returning to worship. Those individual reports are meaningful, but there is not a reliable national statistic showing exactly how many people “went back to church because of Charlie Kirk.”

I don’t want to manufacture a revival statistic where one doesn’t exist, but I also don’t want to ignore what happened.

People prayed.
People gathered.
People sang.
People opened Bibles.
People talked about Jesus.
And Christian worship was at the center of Charlie’s memorial.

Charlie’s books came back to life

His books surged after his death as well.

Within days, several of Charlie’s books had climbed into Amazon’s top ten.

The College Scam, Right Wing Revolution, and Time for a Turning Point all rose dramatically. At the same time, his forthcoming book, Stop, in the Name of God, climbed near the very top of the Amazon rankings even before its December release.

Later, Stop, in the Name of God became an Amazon No. 1 bestseller. Its publisher initially printed 200,000 copies and had to reorder because of demand; the publisher reported more than 60,000 Amazon copies sold on the first day of release.

I haven’t found a reliable number for how many Charlie Kirk books were purchased specifically because of his death, so that I won’t make one up. The bestseller lists tell the story well enough.

People were looking for his words.

And people sang

There isn’t a reliable national count of songs written or performed in Charlie’s memory. I wish there were, because it would be another fascinating measure of what happened.

But there were many.

Tom MacDonald’s tribute song “CHARLIE” quickly reached No. 1 on the U.S. iTunes chart and drew millions of views online.

My favorite was by The Preacher Man.

And the memorial itself was filled with music and worship. Christian artists performed. Ministers preached. Friends spoke. Political leaders spoke. Erika spoke.

The event repeatedly returned to the same subjects that had been central to Charlie’s life:

Faith.
Family.
Forgiveness.
Jesus Christ.
And the future.

Perhaps the greatest tribute was Erika’s forgiveness

For me, one of the most powerful moments came when Erika stood before nearly 100,000 people and said that she forgave the man accused of killing her husband.

She didn’t say that Charlie’s life didn’t matter.
She didn’t say that justice didn’t matter.
She said that forgiveness mattered because of Christ.

That is a very different thing. She stood in front of an enormous crowd carrying an unimaginable grief, and she chose to speak about forgiveness.

I have thought about that many times since.

What does a person do when the worst thing imaginable happens?
What does a Christian do?
Where does faith go when the person you love most is suddenly gone?

I don’t have all the answers, but I believe Charlie would have pointed people toward Christ.

And I believe Erika has tried to do the same.

What happened to the children?

This is the part of the story where I think we should be quiet. There are many things we could speculate about.

Who stayed with the children.
Who watched them.
Who helped with meals and bedtime.
Who helped Erika when she couldn’t think clearly.
Who provided security.
Who helped with the enormous practical responsibilities that suddenly fell upon a young widow.

But the family has not made all of that public, and I don’t think we have a right to demand it. What we do know is that the children were protected. Their privacy was protected. People surrounded their mother. And their father’s work was surrounded by people who refused to let the organization he built collapse. That is enough for me.

One year later, those children are still very young.

They don’t need to know about polls or chapter counts or donor numbers.
They need their mother.
They need their family.
They need people who love them.
They need the freedom to remember their father as Dad, not as a political symbol.

Perhaps someday they will understand what happened, and perhaps someday they will understand what their father built.

For now, I hope they get to sit at his desk. I hope they hear stories about him laughing. I hope someone tells them how much he loved them. And I hope they know that their father was loved by many other people too.

What does one life leave behind?

That is the question I keep coming back to today.

One year ago, Charlie Kirk was alive.

Today he isn’t, but

His wife is still standing.
His children are growing.
His organization is larger.
People are reading his books.
His podcast continues.
People are still gathering.
Young people are still joining.

People were purchasing Bibles in extraordinary numbers
Christians were praying.
People were singing.

And thousands upon thousands of people have continued to say, in one way or another: We are not going to forget.

Maybe that is what an aftermath looks like when a life has mattered. Death is supposed to end a life. It does not always end a mission. And for a Christian, death does not have the last word.

Knowing the Price Love Had to Pay

As I was reflecting on Charlie Kirk’s death, I found this poem I had written a long time ago.

Since Charlie’s faith was so central to his life, I thought it appropriate to share it here.

Knowing The Price Love Had To Pay

On a hillside called Calvary
Hung the King of the galaxy,
Raised in garden-walled gallery,
Fruit filled branch; the root of Jesse,
A shepherd of sheep gone astray.
For the sin filled earth below
Where up and down the people go
To wherever the breezes blow
This was the price love had to pay.

Faces white, angels quiver,
Icy breezes quake and shiver,
Through the night that runs forever
Flows Jesus' blood like a river,
Flowing downward for love's display.
Criminals hung on either side
Overlook the place where we abide.
With silent tears His Father cried.
This was the price love had to pay.

His hands and feet were tightly nailed.
By the garden, women wailed.
The King of Kings last breath exhaled.
In eyes of men, the King had failed.
Like sheep His friends scattered away,
But who had known what God had planned;
The cost His justice would demand?
What love we failed to understand!
This was the price love had to pay.

Woman waking, coming early
Did see a light shining brightly
And heard songs that echo cheerly
From the angel speaking clearly;
A hope for sheep who went astray
To the wicked with burdens weary;
A light of hope to the dreary;
Joy for the burdened and teary;
This was the price love had to pay.

Alive He waits by night and day
For all under the dragon's sway.
He calls to those who've gone astray.
The curse is lifted when we pray
To Him who died; our debt to pay.
He longs to set the captives free
And so He stands by steadily
For those who come on bended knee
Knowing the price love had to pay.

Now we see through mirror unclear
That hangs before us all the year.
Shadows of the world appear.
In us He abides always near
Reaching down to those far away.
From Him the water of life flows.
Our sins and waywardness He knows.
To the broken, mercy He shows
Knowing the price love had to pay.

Sometimes life is sweet and hearts glad;
A painted rose on empty pad;
A love struck lass with handsome lad;
A young flower in crimson clad;
Full contentment of love's display
And sometimes through nights dark and blue
The troubles come riding two and two.
The King remains loyal and true
Knowing the price love had to pay.

In His love we will still delight
As He weaves His plans for the night;
For often through the silent frights
At funerals with tears and fights
Content to have our love's display.
Even when death hangs overhead
And days are filled will fears and dread
Our faith hangs on by just a thread
Knowing the price love had to pay.

We cry to Him in darkest grief
When we find no other relief.
Hope comes dazzling in our belief
And flamed upon the brazen Chief
To those who have gone far astray.
We come to the cross bent and kneeled;
To the King and His shield.
We come with nothing and we yield
Knowing the price love had to pay.

And perhaps that is where I want to leave this today.

Not with politics.
Not with numbers.
Not even with Charlie Kirk.
But with Christ.

Because Charlie’s life pointed toward a truth that Christians have believed for two thousand years:

The grave is not the end.
Love is stronger than death.
Forgiveness is stronger than hatred.
And the price love had to pay was paid at Calvary.

One year later, I still grieve for the wife who lost her husband. I grieve for the two children who lost their dad. And I grieve for a country that lost a young man who believed deeply in what he was doing.

But I also look at what happened afterward.

The aftermath was amazing:

People came.
People prayed.
People sang.
People opened Bibles.
Young people stepped forward.
A widow stood.
People protected the children.
And a message of faith continued to spread.

Perhaps that is what happens when a life is placed in God’s hands.

We never really know where the seeds will fall.

We only know that sometimes, after the storm, something begins to grow.

Beyond the Trial and Tragedy: Grieving Three Children, A Father and A Mother in an Angry America

Posted on September 7, 2026September 11, 2026 by Bob Richley

Weeping

On January 24, 2023 an unthinkable tragedy happened. A five year old girl, a three year old boy and a eight month old baby boy were strangled to death. Stop. Think about that for a moment. Three innocent children died. Consider this: Who is the most important person in a child’s life, the one they run to for help when hurting, scared or in need? Who? Mommy, Mama, Mom, Ma, Mother.

The person kids need the most in their early years, the person they trust to nurture, to care, to feed, to help, to comfort is their mother. Yet, this person whom a child trusts more than any other is the very person who took life from them, not in a quick easy way, but slowly choking the breath from them. The very breath of life left these three children, taken by the one who birthed them into this world, who they loved, trusted and admired more than any other person in the world.

I love children. I’ve volunteered for decades helping children, teaching children and playing with children. Now I’m a father of two wonderful girls. Since they were babies, I’ve cared for them, held them in my arms, read to them, played with them, fed them and protected them. I cannot imagine ever being dreprived of them. I would do anything including sacrificing my own life to protect my kids.

Nothing grieves me more, nothing breaks my heart more, nothing is more tragic than children dying, than children being harmed. I cannot comprehend how anyone could purposely harm and murder a child. It is incomprehensiable to me.

I’ve seen bits and pieces of the news, the social media posts and read arguments. This country is mad with protests. People are fighting over a trial. I cannot comprehend the focus of the news and posts. Three children died. Three children were murdered. Three beautiful, innocent children left this world. Yet people are fighting. Where is the grief, the lament, the sadness, the hurt? That is what I feel about this tragedy. I feel a deep sense of sadness. My eyes are full of tears writing this. Three children died. I weep.

Is anyone else weeping?

A Father’s Loss

I’m a dad. I love my kids. That doesn’t just mean I feel a sense of warmth and affection. It means I would sacrifice anything for my kids. I sacrifice my time, my money, my attention, my very life for my kids. They are more precious to me than anything else in this world. I could not imagine life without my kids. Should anything happen to my children, I would be devastated.

When my nephew was eighteen months old, he stopped breathing. He was resuscitated and had to be helicoptered away to a hospital in Chicago, 60 miles from where he lived. My mom called me at work. I dropped everything and drove immediately to the hospital. My heart was breaking for my nephew, my first nephew.

Almost

Oh precious child not even two,
How it hurt to almost loose you.
Seeing you lying on that bed,
Alive but appearing nearly dead,

Was more than we could endure,
We feared we might loose you for sure.
By your side constantly we stayed.
As we held your little hand and prayed.

"Oh Lord of heaven and earth,
From the day of this child's birth,
To us, such happiness did his life convey!
Please, don't take our little one away!"

We are so thankful you are still around.
Happiness in our lives once again abounds.
We rejoice that you are still here
And that we can again hold you near.

We are thankful that you could stay
And that the Lord didn't take you away!

My cousin had an eight month old baby boy. His babysitter did something you never ever do to a baby. She shook him. My cousin’s baby boy, Shawn, died. I was devastated. Though I had only met Shawn once, I held him in my arms with only warmth and love in my heart. His death was painful.

A somber image of small empty children's shoes evoking loss and grief

To Shawn

When a child dies,
It seems the world cries.
Sweet innocence this day
Has been taken away.
All souls are filled with sorrow,
Making it hard to go on to tomorrow.
Everyone feels such sadness,
Wondering why this horrible madness.

What makes this day even worse
Is that this painful curse
By such violence came to be.
It's hard to grasp such absurdity.
When a little baby dies,
It seems the world cries.
Sweet innocence this day
Has been taken away.

Shawn’s baby sitter, in a fit of rage, shook and threw him when he was 18 months old. He died a week later on Feb 24th 1994.

On January 24, 2023 a father lost three children. I feel his pain. I would be devastated beyond comprehension.

Does anyone grieve for the Daddy?

The Mommy

This mother tried to commit suicide. She was in such pain that she thought it better not to live than live with her pain. She was afraid to raise her kids and thought it better they should not live than be raised wrong. You can debate her sanity. For myself, I don’t understand how a mother could do such a thing to her kids and herself. I grieve.

My dearest friend committed suicide in my house. He had not properly grieved the loss of his own mother. He was delusional and paranoid. I had gotten him to agree to go to a day program where he could receive counseling, but then he wrecked his car. While in the hospital, doctors convinced him to get psychological treatment and admit himself. He left with a plan which included living with me in my spare room and attending the day program.

I went to work. A mutual friend checked on him and found him unconscious. He had taken all his prescription pills. An ambulance took him to the hospital and doctors pronounced him dead on arrival.

That was over twenty years ago. Still, I can’t understand why my friend was in so much pain that he would end his own life.

When I was in the midst of fighting for my friends life, I wrote this:

Depression

I don't know what to do for you.
I'm at a loss.
I've paid the cost.
I've tried and tried.
I think a little of us has died.
I don't know what to do for you.

I made my body a wall
To stop you
From harming you.
I've tried and I tried
And then you nearly died.
I don't know what to do for you.

Help me. Show me how to help you.
I'm at a loss
You're the boss.
I've tried and I tried.
I've fought and I've cried.
I don't know what to do for you.

After he committed suicide, I wrote this:

The Suicide of a Friend

A single candle and wilted flower evoking grief and remembrance



Three long weeks we fought
for your life.
Three long weeks we sought
to be your savior.

But you were beyond
our power.
You were too far gone
to be saved.

The person you once were
Was already gone.
The person we wanted to cure
Had already died.

We are all deeply hurt
By what was done.
Our souls are in a desert
Asking "why this?"

Still we know in our hearts
This was not you,
Who chose this life to depart
It was someone else.

The man we loved so deep
Had left us
Long before eternal sleep
Laid you to rest.

We will remember the man
Who helped so many.
We will remember the man
Who loved so freely.

We will remember the man
Who bound us together.
We will remember the man
Who unites us now.

We will not say
"Good-bye, dear friend"
But rather "until we meet again,
One sweet day."

I don’t undestand why my friend ended his own life. I grieve. Why a mother would kill her own children? I don’t understand . I grieve. Why she would try to commit suicide? I fail understand I grieve.

Fighting

Our country is so divided. We were the greatest country in the world. We were the UNITED States of America.

The Civil War and Reconstruction transformed the nation by physically restoring the Union and legally redefining it around freedom and equality. Although we were divided over slavery, the war and its aftermath created a new sense of unity. Before the American Civil War, people often said, “The United States are…” treating the nation as a collection of individual states. After the war, the phrasing shifted to “The United States is…” signaling a new sense of a single, indivisible nation. This unity was complex: while the 13th Amendment ended slavery and preserved the Union, it also brought a stronger federal government and a consolidated national identity.

Admittedly, it wasn’t easy. The time also ushered in decades of intense political, social, and racial struggles during the Reconstruction era as the nation figured out how to actually live out that unity.

I fear that is all ending. We seem more divided than ever perhaps toward a new cival war. This trial is a further demonstration of the disunity. It seems no one is listening. We have brief social media posts on both sides. People comment without knowledge. We are operating from our own paradigms. Instead of researching the truth, we respond. We don’t think. Instead, we let the media tell us how to think. We already have our preconceived notions of what is right and respond accordingly.

The Other Side

For convictions, we fight
so confident we are right.
Anger and aggression
without pausing to question
the pretexts of our certitude.
Rigid in our attitude.

It’s time we look inside
rather than trying to hide.
The fault and failure lie within
over our own self-centered sin.
Cease blaming others and God!
Let go of the deceptive facade!

Examine and evaluate,
consider convictions to abdicate.
Seek first to comprehend
what enemies apprehend.
Replace anger and apprehension
with charity and comprehension.

It breaks my heart that when children die, we don’t pause as a nation to grieve the loss. Instead, we fight.

We mask the pain by blaming:

We blame the mother.
We blame the father.
We blame the medical profession.
We blame the justice system.
We do anything to avoid looking at our own hearts.

Are our consciences so seared that we would rather fight than grieve the loss? What is wrong with us? What is wrong with our nation? We should have stopped, lowered our flags, declared a day of mourning and fasting. We should bend our knees to our creator and beg for forgiveness, that our country would be so far away from our God-given purpose, that a mother would kill her babies.

Conflict

In a world of deceit and lies,
We rage in fiery fury.
With no time we hurry,
Never pondering, lest we revise

Our venerated held convictions.
With itching ears we hear,
Only what we hold as dear
Though they are mere fictions.

Halt the conflict we create!
Understand the other point of view!
Examine what you think is true!
Seek to love over hate!

When will we weep over our country? When will we look inside and ultimately repent of the evil within our own hearts?

I grieve for our country and I pray. Will you join me or will you continue to strive and fight further dividing out nation?

Church Scandals and Sexual Sin: Understanding Before We Judge

Posted on August 27, 2026September 11, 2026 by Bob Richley

Traveler crossing a stone bridge toward a riverside church

A Familiar Pattern

A pastor’s son was accused, convicted, and sentenced for having intercourse with a 16-year-old when he was in his twenties. The media ran stories the very next day. Social media began commenting, praising the victim and condemning the church and its pastor.

How often have we seen a scenario like this? A male religious leader falls into sexual sin, the church is accused of covering it up, the leader is condemned, and media coverage is negative toward the church and its leaders.

Meanwhile, in the church, people leave. Others defend the choices made. “It was an internal church matter involving its members and should be settled by its leadership.” Some sympathize with the leaders, while others condemn them.

But what if, before we choose a side, we tried to understand what each person might be experiencing?

I’m not suggesting that understanding excuses wrongdoing. It doesn’t. I’m suggesting that we sometimes make judgments before we understand the people involved.

Could It Be Different?

I’ve written a few times in these blogs about understanding the other side. The idea is based on Stephen Covey‘s principle of seeking first to understand, then to be understood. Let’s try to do that here. Let’s see if we can understand both sides.

The Young Woman

Let’s begin with the young woman. Whatever the precise circumstances of the relationship, we should remember that she is a person, not merely a headline or a legal accusation. If she experienced coercion, manipulation, or abuse, she may carry wounds that outsiders cannot see. If she made choices she now regrets, she may also carry guilt and shame. Either way, she needs truth, compassion, and an opportunity to be heard.

Understanding her perspective doesn’t require us to assume every detail of her story. It means recognizing that there is a human being behind the accusation.

There is an unfair perception toward women who have sex outside of marriage. In the Biblical story of the woman caught in adultery in John 7:53–8:11, the religious leaders ask Jesus what is to be done to the woman caught in the act of adultery. There is no mention of the man involved. Women are often the ones condemned historically. You even see it in literature such as The Scarlet Letter. So this young woman lives with this unfair perception.

Shame Blame Pattern

When we feel guilty, one of the often-used defenses against the shame is to blame someone else. We’ve seen it since Adam blamed Eve in Genesis after eating the forbidden fruit. It is no surprise that this young woman wants all the blame on the young man. Very few of us ever examine ourselves.

There is a principle I’ve learned in recovery: own your part. That principle is essential—but we must be careful about where we apply it. Owning our own choices does not mean taking responsibility for another person’s choices. A person who has been harmed does not become responsible for the harm simply because she made mistakes of her own.

For those of us examining our own lives, however, the principle remains powerful: What part is mine? What do I need to confess? What do I need to change?

Male Leadership Stigma

There is also a stigma toward male leaders who fall sexually. At the beginning of this post, I mentioned the repeated pattern. This pattern creates a paradigm, a point of view that we apply to all similar situations. This is easy. We don’t want to think for ourselves. We don’t want to research facts, so we make a quick judgment based on our beliefs and established paradigms. It is no surprise, again, that people follow the pattern of of accusing the church and its leaders of wrong doing.

There is also the fact that the church and its leadership have hurt others. Some have been hurt by other males, not necessarily in leadership—people who have been hurt put up defenses to shield themselves from further hurt. They also come to the defense of others who have experienced something similar. They can empathize with those hurt.

Knowing some of these possibilities and patterns, it’s easy to see why the victim accuses the other of wrongdoing. I’m not implying this is wrong; I’m trying to understand why this happens from the accuser’s perspective.

The Young Man

The young man also had a moral failure. Being in leadership, as I said, there is also a negative perception toward male leaders who fall sexually. Following a similar pattern of wanting to take away guilt, it is easy to see fault in his accuser.

There is also hurt on the accused’s side. The young man is now married and has a newborn baby girl. While his moral failure was known to his wife, these court proceedings bring the failure to the forefront. Can you imagine how his wife must feel? Can you imagine how the young man must feel? Not only do you have to deal with this moral failure again and how it affects your marriage, but you have to do so while the world watches and your life is all over the media.

Being in confinement, the young man is not able to see and hold his newborn. As a father myself, I can relate to the feelings associated with not being able to see and hold my child. As a husband and a father, I know I want to be involved and present with my wife and kids. This young man is not allowed to do either.

I write this not to excuse behavior but to stir up empathy, empathy that I feel as I consider the situation. My point isn’t to excuse; it’s to understand.

The Church

For church leadership, there is scripturally based doctrine that believers should not take one another to court. This is found in1 Corinthians 6:1-8, where the Apostle Paul rebukes the Corinthian Christians for suing one another in secular courts.

Some Christians have interpreted this passage as meaning that conflicts within the church should be handled internally. Others distinguish Paul’s teaching about civil lawsuits between believers from situations involving criminal conduct, abuse, or danger to others.

I don’t want to settle that theological debate in this article. My point is simply that the church may be operating from a theological framework that outsiders don’t understand.

Understanding that framework doesn’t mean we should automatically agree with every decision made by church leadership. It means we should understand why they may have acted as they did before we judge their motives.

The Family

Sin rarely affects only the person who commits it.

It spreads outward.

A husband’s sin affects his wife. A parent’s choices affect his children. A church leader’s failure affects his congregation. And when the story becomes public, the consequences spread even further.

One person’s wrongdoing can create pain in many lives.

Recognizing that doesn’t lessen the responsibility of the person who did wrong. It reminds us that sin is rarely as isolated as we imagine.

In all these cases of sexual sin, we need to remember how it affects the family. It is not only the two who had intercourse who are affected. The family of each is affected. The church family is affected. Even observers are affected.

The Young Woman’s Family

In the case of the young 16-year-old, we can imagine that her parents must have felt devastated. As parents, we leave our kids with other adults, trusting they will behave as adults, protect our children, and certainly not harm them. When harm comes to our children, the hurt is unbearable. Again, the pattern of shame and blame enters the situation. Even if it is no fault of the parents, they feel a sense of shame for what happened to their child. We, as parents, question why we left our kids in the care of others where they were hurt. So, naturally, we, like Adam, want to blame to remove our own shame.

The Young Man’s Family

For the young man’s family, it is even more complex. A pastor’s son is expected to be above par. When not, it is often seen as the pastor’s fault. Even if the parents are not leaders or pastors, they are often blamed when their child fails. This too brings feelings of shame for the parents. Naturally, the easiest person to blame is the accuser.

The Church Family

For the church family, there is hurt as well. When the church you attend is in the news, people wonder why you belong to such a fallen church. Often, the shame felt leads to blaming church leadership. People leave because of the shame they feel.

Social media encourages us to make judgments quickly.

We read a headline, see a few comments, and decide who is right and who is wrong.
We don’t know the history.
We don’t know the people.
We may not even know all the facts.
Yet we feel qualified to pronounce judgment.

A social media post gives us a snapshot. A human life is a story.

We should be slow to judge when we don’t know the whole story.

That doesn’t mean we ignore wrongdoing. It means we distinguish between knowing what someone did and assuming we know everything about that person.

A Better Way

While it may not be as simple as I conjectured, I do know that shame and blame are certainly factors involved. I also believe the remedy is confession and listening.

Confession

In recovery groups, we are taught to confess our part. When we confess, we release shame, especially when confessing to someone who understands the struggle.

Proverbs 28:13 — Highlights that confessing and forsaking sins leads to mercy, unlike concealing them.
Psalm 32:5 — Describes the relief of confessing sins directly to God.
Psalm 51:17 — Emphasizes that God accepts a broken and contrite heart.

In Psalm 32:3, David describes unconfessed sin as bones wasting away, but at the beginning points to the relief that comes from confession, saying it is blessed to be forgiven.

Confession can only happen if we examine ourselves and see our faults. We need to confess them to God and to each other.

Listening

James 1:19 says, “Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak.” We need to listen not only to hear the words, but to understand. We need to understand the other point of view. The other needs to know we understand their point of view.

I wonder how many problems would be solved if we just listened before we spoke.

In this particular case, I know there was a confession and attempts to listen. I’m not sure where it broke down. I’m sad that it did before the issue was resolved.

For the general public, we need to understand the other point of view. When I look at social media comments, I’m sad. I know a bit about both sides of the story, and I see how people make quick judgments without knowing the facts. It grieves my heart.

Trying to understand another person’s perspective doesn’t mean agreeing with them. It doesn’t mean excusing sin. It doesn’t mean declaring someone innocent. And it doesn’t mean declaring someone guilty before we’ve heard the facts.

Understanding means being willing to see the person and the circumstances from more than one angle.

When Understanding Becomes Dangerous

There is a danger with understanding, too. Understanding someone’s motives must never become an excuse for their behavior.

We can understand why someone lied without saying that lying is acceptable.
We can understand why someone committed adultery without saying adultery is acceptable.
We can understand why a church leader protected someone from the law without saying that protecting wrongdoing is acceptable.
And we can understand the pain, confusion, or choices of someone who has been hurt without blaming that person for the actions of someone who harmed them.

Understanding explains. It does not excuse.

Mercy without truth becomes permissiveness. Truth without mercy becomes cruelty. We need both

Jesus showed compassion to sinners without calling sin righteousness. In my example of the woman caught in Adultery, after her accusers left, Jesus didn’t condemn her or throw a stone, but he did tell her to go and sin no more. He didn’t condemn her, nor did he condone her behavior. We can do the same.

Before We Choose a Side

We can’t solve all the world’s problems. We can’t solve all our own problems. But we can take a step in the right direction.

Before I condemn someone, I can ask:

What is the point of view of the one with whom I disagree?
What are the feelings of the other side?
Am I responding to facts or to a familiar pattern?
What assumptions am I making?
What is my blind spot? What am I not seeing to have a complete picture?
What has influenced my perspective and paradigm?
Am I willing to listen to someone I disagree with?
What part of this belongs to me?
What do I need to confess?
Most importantly, what do I need to change?

I don’t have to:

excuse wrongdoing to understand someone.
agree with someone to listen to them.
defend someone to have compassion for them.
condemn someone simply because everyone around me is condemning them.

Jesus gives us a difficult standard. He calls us to speak truth, but He also calls us to love. He calls us to recognize sin, but He also calls us to examine ourselves.

Perhaps the next time we see a familiar pattern unfold in the news, we should pause before choosing a side.

Listen.
Learn.
Examine yourself.
Seek the truth.

And remember that behind every headline are people—people who have made choices, people who have been hurt, people who need accountability, people who need forgiveness, and people who need God’s grace.

Understanding explains. It does not excuse. But understanding may be the first step toward responding with both truth and grace.

We can’t solve all the world’s problems. We can’t solve all our own problems, but we can take a step in the right direction. Instead of immediately blaming others for what’s wrong, we can look inside and ask God to change US from the inside out.

Cherishing Memories: A Tribute to Dad

Posted on August 22, 2026September 11, 2026 by Bob Richley

Countryside valley shown across spring, summer, autumn, and winter

Seasons of the Soul

Warm days fill us with delight
As dawn breaks into the light.
Colorful flowers bloom and grow
As the cool breezes blow.

Sunshine and rainbows fill our days
Breaking through the darkened haze.
We laugh and play the whole time wrong
Wasting our time singing our deceitful song.

But soon leaves will descend
As we begin another end.
The withering will pass away
For the colors to turn to grey. 

Cold, harsh reality comes to haunt
And death and evil start to taunt.
We cry and toil the whole time wrong
Having wasted our life-long song.

But hope lives in the seasons of regret
Giving us a chance to repent of wrong, yet.
Turn our hearts away from grey madness
From mourning to colorful gladness.

Today is my mother’s 85th birthday. My dad has cancer for the second time. My sister told us today has been difficult. My dad talks about his potential demise and his concern for his wife. It saddens me to think about it. Life is fragile, but we cling to hope, not false hope but real hope in a living Savior who lived and died to conquer death.

I think back on fun days growing up, of camping trips, climbing mountains, riding sleds down dunes, and fishing. My dad was the initiator of those fun times, those wonderful memories. Those memories bring both joy and sadness: joy remembering the fun, sadness knowing the one who gave them to me may be taken away.

I think of the cold, harsh reality that my dad one day will die, but then I remember that death is defeated. We will live again in the resurrection. So I hold out in hope.

My dad will turn 85 in November. He has lived a long and happy life for the most part. He has 5 children and 8 grandkids. I know he’s proud of every one of them, and we have him to thank for who we are.

Should my dad die, he wants us to celebrate his life, and we will do so.

I wrote this many years ago and will read it someday at his funeral.

My Dad

As I look back over the years,
And remember the joy and tears,
There is one steady, stable factor I see:
A man to lead and guide me,

A man who was always there,
A man who had real love and care,
A man who made us a close family,
A man who taught values and integrity,

A man who sacrificed his time,
A man who was firm, yet gentle and kind,
A man who saw us through good and bad,
A man whom I'm proud to call my dad.

I’m 60 years old and I’m still very much proud of my dad and I hope to be as great a dad to my kids as he was to me. My kids will be his legacy.

Facing Cancer With Faith

Posted on August 17, 2026September 11, 2026 by Bob Richley

Elderly couple resting in bed while holding hands beside a lamp and candle

My dad has been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in his rectum, bladder, and sternum. He’s a “healthy 84,” so the doctor thinks he can eliminate it with chemo and immunotherapy. This is not the first time. He had cancer in his rectum over 30 years ago. At that time, I wrote this poem:

Facing Cancer

"I'm facing my biggest fear,"
He said to me.
I was already hurting.
These words I did not need to hear.

"How does it feel to see me this way?"
He asked of me.
Hurt for him is what I felt.
"Sad" was all I could say.

The man with whom I could run 10 miles
And scale mountain peaks
Now, struggled to walk a few feet.
Memories of such days, now, did not bring smiles.

Seeing my dad weak and in pain,
Hurts me too much.
But though this is hard to bear,
I know our faith will not wane.

Through this fight for his life,
I'll be by his side,
And praying to my Lord:
"Comfort us. Save my father's life."

What outcome lies ahead for us?
It's beyond my control.
I simply do not know.
So in our Lord and Savior we place our trust.

Now we say the same prayers again. It’s just as hard, if not harder. I also pray for the “peace that surpasses all understanding.” Phillipians 4:7

I find it is easier to be angry. Someone tried to provoke me to anger yesterday. The Holy Spirit had to have given me self-control, because I certainly wanted to explode but didn’t. I find I’m less patient with my daughters, too, and have to be more careful not to snap in anger over petty offenses.

I’m most thankful for the prayers, love, and support of my fellow Christians. I can genuinely feel their concern; I can see it in their eyes, and I can feel it in my heart.

I look at my daughters, 10 and 12, and pray my father lives to see them grow into the Godly women they are meant to be. He’s proud of who they are already. They are mature beyond their years. They are smart, beautiful and gifted. My dad sees and knows this already.

As a relatively unknown author navigating the early stages of promoting my book, Redeeming Rhubarb, the journey is as much personal as it is professional. The book has earned a Certified Great Read distinction and a strong Kirkus review, but my deepest validation comes from home. My father has read it, and he knows how special it is.

My prayer now is for time: time to work hard and share this book with the world, and time for my dad to witness both its success and the growth of my daughters. Whatever the future holds, he already knows the depth of what I’ve created and what outsanding daughters I have.

I am not without hope. I do believe in a God who can perform miracles. At the same time, I’m skeptical and don’t have much faith in the medical profession. I believe his doctors and medical professionals have his best interest in mind. I also believe that God will work all things together for good Romans 8:28.

Facing Cancer Again

Once again, we face our biggest fears.
Though the pain brings us many tears,
We stay firm in our faith and belief, 
That God will bring us relief

While we still have hopes and dreams. 
We see beyond evil's schemes 
To our heavenly reward and place,
No matter what trials we face.

Faith, Grief & Current Events