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.