Reclaiming What Matters Most

The events of the last couple of weeks have marked a turning point our nation will never forget. The news of Charlie Kirk’s assassination shook us to the core. For many, it felt like the air was knocked out of the room. And yet, in the middle of tragedy, something remarkable happened—his wife Erika stood before the world with a strength that could only come from God. She not only carried herself with grace, she did the unthinkable: she forgave the man who took her husband’s life.

That moment wasn’t just powerful—it was holy. Forgiveness like that cannot be manufactured by human willpower. It is the supernatural outflow of a heart transformed by Christ. And in watching Erika’s strength, our nation was reminded of something we had forgotten: there is a God who redeems, who heals, who empowers us to do what the world calls impossible.

Her response revealed what happens when faith is not just something you say but something you live. Because of her boldness—and the weight of the moment itself—countless hearts have been softened, conversations have been ignited, and people everywhere are rethinking what it truly means to follow Jesus.

What’s happened since then has been nothing short of breathtaking. People are flocking to churches across the country. Congregations are full, baptism services are overflowing, and conversations about faith are popping up in living rooms, coffee shops, and classrooms. It feels like a tide is turning.

I’ve heard story after story of people who hadn’t set foot in a church in decades walking back through the doors. Families who had been drifting spiritually are sitting together in pews again. Young people are staying after services, asking questions about Jesus, about faith, about eternity. All of this reminds me that even in the darkest hours, God is still moving.

This isn’t about politics. It’s not about left or right. This is about people realizing that we’ve drifted too far from the One who is our true foundation. When the ground beneath us feels like it’s crumbling, there’s only one Rock that holds. And right now, I believe our nation is experiencing a divine wake-up call: it’s time to reclaim our faith in a real way. And it’s time to reclaim our nation—not by force or fury, but by repentance, prayer, and obedience to Christ.

We must also remember something essential: this nation was built on biblical principles. The values of freedom, justice, and the worth of every individual were drawn from the truths of God’s Word. Our Founders, though imperfect men, recognized that liberty cannot survive apart from morality, and morality cannot exist apart from faith.

Somewhere along the way, we lost sight of that. We began to build our identity on wealth, on power, on fleeting cultural opinions. And yet, in this season, I see people rediscovering what made us strong in the first place.

The Bible says, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance” (Psalm 33:12, NKJV). That verse doesn’t just speak to ancient Israel—it’s a timeless principle. Any nation that acknowledges God’s authority will find blessing. Any nation that rejects Him will crumble from within.

And there’s a promise we cannot afford to ignore: “If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land” (2 Chronicles 7:14, NKJV).

This is not the time for half-hearted faith. This is the time for humility, repentance, and courage. If we will turn back to Him, He will heal our land. And I truly believe what we are seeing in these days may be the early tremors of a great revival.

As I’ve watched all this unfold, God has also been doing something in me. Over the last several months, I’ve felt a shift. I’m no longer just leading—I’m shepherding. I’ve stepped into pastoring not from a timid place of “do I belong here?” but from a place of confidence that God has called me, equipped me, and planted me right where I am.

And let me tell you—when you begin to pastor from confidence in Christ rather than insecurity in yourself, everything changes. I’ve learned to love deeper, to listen longer, to sit in people’s pain, and to celebrate their victories with the kind of joy only a spiritual family can share.

There was a time I thought pastoring meant mostly planning, organizing, and preaching. But I’m learning that true shepherding happens in the quiet conversations after church, in the hospital visits, in the moments when someone simply needs you to sit with them in silence. It’s in the tears shed, the laughter shared in fellowship halls, and the prayers whispered in living rooms.

Through it all, the anchor of my life remains my family. My wife continues to amaze me with her love, her wisdom, and her steady encouragement. She has been my constant support and my gentle challenger—the one who pushes me to grow while standing beside me in every season.

I grow more and more in love with her every day. It’s not just the way she takes care of our girls, or the way she laughs at my bad jokes, or even the way she sacrifices daily for our family—it’s who she is. She carries a strength that steadies me, a tenderness that inspires me, and a faith that sharpens me. When I look at her, I see the goodness of God written into my story.

I thank God every day that I get to be her husband. My love for her isn’t something that fades with time—it grows deeper with every trial we walk through, every victory we celebrate, and every ordinary moment in between. And when I think about the way Christ loves His church, I can’t help but be grateful that my love for her, as imperfect as it may be, gives me just the faintest glimpse of that sacrificial love. My love for her is endless. And if Christ’s love for His bride is even greater than that—and it is—then we are truly standing on holy ground when we talk about His love for us.

Evelyn is crawling everywhere now, filling our home with the joyful chaos of a baby discovering her world. Her little “goo goo ga ga” sounds are the sweetest music to my ears, and every time she laughs, I’m reminded that life’s simplest moments are often its holiest.

And Oakley—she blows me away with how smart she is. The way she processes things reminds me daily that God has given her a mind and heart that will shape the world around her. She asks questions that make me pause and think, and in her childlike wonder, I see the very faith Jesus tells us we must have to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

My greatest joys in life are simple and profound: being my wife’s husband, my children’s father, and my congregation’s associate pastor. Everything else flows out of that. And when I think about my calling, I realize those three roles are not separate—they are deeply connected. Loving my family well makes me a better pastor. Shepherding my congregation makes me a better father. And being a husband who leans on Christ makes me a stronger leader in every other area of my life.

Friend, if you’re reading this, I want to invite you into this moment. Don’t just watch the wave of revival happening across our nation—be part of it. Don’t just applaud Erika’s forgiveness—ask God to cultivate that kind of grace in your own heart. Don’t just shake your head at the brokenness around us—decide that you will stand firm in your faith, unashamed and unafraid, no matter the cost.

The time for halfway faith is over. The time for Sunday-only Christianity is gone. It’s time to reclaim what matters most.

As for me, I’ll keep shepherding, keep learning, keep growing, and keep celebrating the little giggles and big breakthroughs God keeps blessing me with. And I pray this blog becomes a place you can return to—a reminder that you’re not alone, that God is at work, and that there is always hope.

Because no matter how dark the world may feel, the Light still shines. And the darkness has not overcome it.