Charlie Kirk a Model of Faith and Courage in Public Life

By Isabel Brown | Commentary, The Daily Wire

It’s not an exaggeration to say I owe everything to Charlie.

Words will never be able to convey how devastated we are that Charlie Kirk was taken from us far too soon.

I had the honor and privilege of not just knowing Charlie professionally as a fellow warrior in the conservative movement, but as a close friend and my most influential mentor for the past eight years.

All of you know Charlie for what you saw on social media and television — a fierce fighter with strong convictions who deeply loved our country and fearlessly advocated for his vision for a stronger future. I spent a lot of time with this Charlie — speaking on college campuses and facing the crowds of protesters with a smile on our faces, staying up into all hours of the night live-streaming election coverage, and breaking the news of the day on The Charlie Kirk Show.

What most of you never saw, what God blessed me with the opportunity to witness, was the Charlie who lived off-screen. The young man who lived for a Chicago Cubs game and watched them in green rooms before speeches all over the country. The person who recorded silly videos with my siblings at the endless political conferences we attended over the years. The guy who would spar with me over TikTok’s necessity to save the country as I pleaded with him to finally make an account (and thank God he did). The friend who personally wrote my recommendation letter for my job application for a position at the White House. The husband who inspired me to get serious about the type of man I wanted to marry. The father who’d sing with his beautiful wife and children on FaceTime while traveling away from home, promising that daddy would be home soon. The enthusiastic big-brother-figure who spent an hour ignoring his fans at Mar-a-Lago while dressed to the nines to rattle off parenting advice to my husband and me as we joyfully shared the news of our pregnancy last winter. The servant leader who sought wisdom from God above all else, and deeply yearned for the closest relationship to Christ he could foster.

Today, we are all shocked, devastated, angry, and deeply filled with sorrow — but I unexpectedly also find a glimmer of joy after spending the day with Charlie last week, sharing the stage at a church in central California.

We’d been briefed a few days before that there’d be some protesters outside, so extra security was called in, and we laughed about how this felt like old times when I was a student at Colorado State and he came to campus, making quite a buzz in the process. We dined with the organizers of the event, and Charlie graciously gestured for me to join him in a Q&A with a smaller group of donors before the main speeches, who, fascinatingly, above all else, had questions about the true battle of good and evil waging in our time and the role people of faith must take to continue spreading the light of the gospel.

We get these questions a lot, but something felt different about this event. Charlie (as always) spoke with such powerful moral clarity, but I found myself locked in on every word he said as if I was hearing it for the first time. He radiated wisdom from the Holy Spirit in a way that I had never witnessed, publicly or privately, and it was inspiring to behold.

Moments later, we were whisked into separate green rooms before the actual event began on stage with a crowd of about 2,500 people. I poked my head in to wave to Charlie and his team, and he immediately waved me over to sit down and hang out for about an hour before we delivered our speeches.

Normally, we’d talk about politics and what’s happening in the media, but Charlie only wanted to talk about God and the Church. For about an hour, we jovially debated on matters of theology and spoke about, of all things, heaven. Again, I was so touched by his zeal for his faith that was always pervasive in his life, but seemed especially ignited on this particular day.

I left to give my speech, and Charlie said, “Turn the volume up on that monitor! I want to hear the great Isabel speak!!” To which I giggled, and he told me to break a leg.

After I spoke for about 20 minutes, Charlie took the stage, and again captivated the audience in a way I’ve perhaps never seen. He spoke not just about the importance of fighting for our country, but for humanity to once and for all defeat evil. For us to show up and fight in the spiritual warfare we don’t see with our own two eyes, but is waging on constantly all around us. For several minutes, he spoke to our calling from Christ to be “Salt and Light:” a calling misunderstood by many, but boils down to one action — to transform its surroundings.

He pleaded with the audience, humbly and earnestly, that none of us can be in this fight alone. Nor can we expect someone else to do the fighting for us. Instead, we have to show up, on offense, ready to transform culture and society to be rooted in what is good and true and beautiful. We have to be salt and light.

You could hear a pin drop in the room, and the thunderous applause after he was done speaking was deafening.

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