09/10/2026
One year.
It’s hard to believe an entire year has passed since Charlie Kirk left this earth.
There are people who live long lives and leave behind memories. And then there are people who live with such conviction that their lives leave behind a mandate.
Charlie was one of those people.
He believed a generation was worth fighting for. He walked onto campuses where he knew he would be challenged. He entered conversations others avoided. He refused to be intimidated into silence. And increasingly, he used his platform to speak openly about the faith, family, truth, and convictions that anchored his life.
But perhaps the greatest testimony of a life is what happens when that life is no longer here.
A year later, the conversations haven’t stopped.
Young people are still asking questions.
Students are still standing up.
People are still finding courage.
The Gospel is still being preached.
And a movement that could have retreated in grief chose instead to keep going.
That is legacy.
Charlie reminded an entire generation that courage doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid—it means you’ve decided something is worth more than your fear.
Today, I think about Erika. I think about his children. I think about the friends who knew the man behind the microphone. And I pray that the Lord continues to surround them with a peace and strength that only He can give.
And for the rest of us, may remembrance become resolve.
May we love Jesus boldly.
May we tell the truth courageously.
May we refuse to waste the influence God has entrusted to us.
May we raise families that know what they believe.
May we reach the next generation instead of giving up on them.
May we have conversations with people who disagree with us instead of retreating from them.
And may we live in such a way that when our race is finished, there is evidence that we ran it faithfully.
One year later, Charlie’s chair may be empty.
But the assignment isn’t.
Well done, Charlie. We remember. And we keep going.
September 10, 2025 — September 10, 2026. 🇺🇸
