On September 21st in the US (22nd here in the Philippines), I found myself listening to the funeral ceremony for Charlie Kirk. The stadium in Arizona was filled with people—family, friends, leaders, students, and thousands who had been touched by his relentless ministry. As I listened, it stirred something deep in me. Memories of my own faith journey came flooding back, and I realized I’ve fallen short in ways I can no longer ignore.
This post is not just about Charlie. It’s about how his life reminded me of my own calling, my failures, and why I need to return to the man I was meant to be.
Finding Christ
I found Christ as a teenager. Back in Salt Lake City, I was spending time at the Main Street Coffee House. My pastor, Clint Roberts, and the team at Summit Church showed me a kind of love and forgiveness I’d never experienced. I was welcomed despite who I was, and in that forgiveness, I found strength. Through them, Christ became real to me.
From that moment, I had a fire in me. I gave up drinking. I gave up marijuana. I even turned myself in on old warrants, spending nine months in jail when I was just 19. Why? Because Romans 12 weighed heavy on me—I wanted to be accountable. I wanted to live for Jesus fully, without compromise.
Early Outreach
In those early years, I was effective at reaching people who didn’t want to be reached. My brother came to church with me. My mother, a devout Mormon, joined me in services. Friends who’d never set foot in a church before came with me. My first wife also gave her life to the Lord around that time. For three or four years, it felt like I was doing what I was meant to do: helping people encounter Christ.
I even poured my energy into media outreach. I created Utah Pirate Radio and ran websites like BehindZionCurtain.com and later XCannabis.com (short for “Christians for Cannabis”). I debated Mormon apologists from BYU for years, never backing down when it came to defending my faith. Like Charlie, I wasn’t apologetic about loving Jesus. I confronted lies head-on but tried to do it in love.
Falling Away
But life has a way of breaking you down. My ex-wife and I struggled. I got distracted by work, pouring myself into jobs that demanded 96 hours a week. Eventually, I was isolated—just me in a room, answering calls for six years. Ministry and friendships faded away.
Then came the accident. Broken bones, surgeries, titanium in my legs, even losing my front teeth. I was confined to a wheelchair. But the physical pain wasn’t the hardest part. The emotional trauma from my ex-wife’s relentless attacks nearly destroyed me. I spiraled into depression and PTSD. Twice I came close to ending it all. A gun in my mouth once, a bottle of pills another time. The only thing that kept me here was my kids.
Divorce was the only path forward. I hate divorce. I hate what it does to families and kids. But in my case, it was either divorce or death. That’s the truth.
Losing My Fire
After the accident and the years of trauma, I withdrew from everyone—mentors, pastors, even family. I ignored emails and messages, cutting myself off from the people who once gave me strength. I stopped being the man who brought others to Christ and became someone who avoided responsibility. My ministry, my testimony, my outreach—all of it crumbled.
Charlie’s Example
Then I listened to Charlie’s memorial. You can watch it yourself here: Charlie Kirk Memorial. What I heard humbled me. Charlie was relentless. He ran Turning Point USA, traveled the world, hosted a major podcast, debated on college campuses, and still found time to personally respond to emails from strangers. Not just once, but back-and-forth conversations with multiple people daily. Who does that? Who has that much love, discipline, and drive?
Charlie did. And it broke me to realize how much I’ve avoided in my own life. I once had that same fire, but I let the world, trauma, and excuses steal it from me.
Why This Matters
As I listened to the speakers at his funeral, I couldn’t help but compare myself to Charlie. Not in a way that leads to jealousy, but in a way that convicted me. I’ve wasted years avoiding people when I should have been helping them. I’ve hidden when I should have stood up. And I know I owe it to my children, my friends, my community, and most of all Christ, to stop running.
Charlie’s life is a challenge to me, and maybe it should be to you too. None of us are guaranteed time. He was young, and yet his impact was massive. Imagine what we could do if we lived with the same conviction.
My Next Step
I’m done avoiding. I’m done letting trauma and fear control me. I need to return to who I was when I first found Christ—a man on fire to reach the lost, unapologetic about his faith, willing to confront lies, but always with love.
I don’t know what my outreach will look like yet. Maybe it’s picking up the microphone again, maybe it’s answering those emails I’ve ignored, maybe it’s reconnecting with the mentors and friends I’ve shut out. But it starts now.
Charlie’s legacy will live on through Turning Point USA and through Erica, his wife, who is stepping forward with strength. But his legacy also lives on in anyone willing to take up the same call. I want to be one of them.
If you want to understand why his life mattered so much, I encourage you to watch both videos:
- My reflection and testimony here: Watch on YouTube
- Charlie Kirk’s Memorial here: Watch the Memorial
And if you want to learn more about my story after I first found Christ, you can read my old biography archived here: My Story
Thank you, Charlie, for inspiring me to face myself again. May your example push many of us back into the fight this broken world desperately needs.
Sources
- My testimony video: https://youtu.be/nWifpGX8uoE
- Charlie Kirk’s memorial: https://www.youtube.com/live/zkX2rIn_q8o
- My early biography: https://web.archive.org/web/20091001000000*/mystory.behindzioncurtain.com
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