Charlie Kirk’s rhetoric disgusted me. Until I was tasting his poison in myself. What I thought I was fighting for was Jesus. Truth? I just wanted a fight.

Confrontation isn’t bad. Jesus did it plenty. But He wasn’t out to score points or get applause. He did it to set people free, inviting them back to wholeness.

Here was someone speaking about faith in what would be his final moments, someone who genuinely believed he was defending Christian values. I don’t question his sincerity.

When news of Charlie Kirk’s death broke, I felt something, an unexpected sadness, not satisfaction. Sadness. Here was someone speaking about faith in what would be his final moments, someone who genuinely believed he was defending Christian values. I don’t question his sincerity.

But his legacy forces me to ask an uncomfortable question: when our convictions sound less like love and more like condemnation, what is it we are really defending? When inflammatory language becomes our norm, are we building bridges or walls?When inflammatory language becomes our norm, are we building bridges or walls?

I’m caught in the same trap. Getting fired up about being right instead of being loving. It’s way easier to attack someone’s bad take than to honestly engage, asking questions about why they might think that way. When controversy becomes our currency, we squander it all instead of spending it on the peace, kindness, and gentleness that ought to mark our words.

This is my attempt to get it right, wrestling with hard questions without tearing people down. I want to hold truth and love together, especially when it’s messy. When our words humiliate more than they heal, when we’re mocking instead of mending, we might be fighting the wrong battle. Even if we’re swinging the sword shouting “TRUTH!”

The fruit test still applies, only now it cuts way deeper than I want to admit. Do my words cultivate peace, kindness, and gentleness? Or outrage, fear, and division? It’s not just about being right; it’s about what grows from how we’re right. Jesus’s confrontations? They were surgical, precise. And He always wants liberation and restoration. When He was overturning tables? People walked away, free. Not more wounded. When He confronted the Pharisees? That’s when He was clearing a path back to God. Not blocking it.

That’s the standard. That’s what I want my confrontations to do. Open doors. Not slam them shut in the face of those I’m trying to love.

That question messes with me, and I think it should.

Truth is, I fail at this way more than I succeed. If I’m being honest, this scares me. It’s way easier to fight than to love well. But I’m tired of contributing to the noise when I could be part of the healing. Something has to change, starting with me.

I wrote this as much for me as anyone else. Because yesterday I caught myself choosing outrage over grace, and I hated how it felt.

How do we get better at this?

#ChristianLife #Faith #Jesus #LoveYourNeighbor #PersonalGrowth #SelfReflection #Vulnerability #BetterConversations #CivilDiscourse #LoveOverHate #PeaceNotOutrage #CharlieKirk