Tragedy to Revival: What I Witnessed in Phoenix
“So as we proceed into whatever comes next, and clearly something’s coming next, remember this moment, remember being in a room with the Holy Spirit humming like a tuning fork. This is the way. Right here. This is the way. And that is what Charlie Kirk was saying underneath it all. ”
Less than 48 hours before Charlie Kirk’s memorial service, my husband Tyson called to say we had been invited to Phoenix. My initial thoughts sounded something like this: “Is it wise to put ourselves in such a large crowd? What if something happened? Is our will current enough?”
It might sound ridiculous, but those were my concerns, not to mention spontaneity left our lives a long time ago. I prayed about it and had peace, and the grandparents agreed to take the kids—so we decided to go on a whim.
When we arrived, the hotel clerk casually mentioned that most guests would be leaving before 5 a.m., and that there had already been one threat. “Be careful,” she said. Many people were camping overnight at the stadium. It was obvious most of the people in the hotel were there for the same reason we were.
We were picked up bright and early, but with only one entrance into the venue, traffic on the interstate came to a standstill. Our driver tried an alternate route, which got us closer, but the exit was barricaded—so we ended up hiking down the off ramp and toward the stadium on foot.
As we approached, the outer parking lots were sealed off with more concrete barriers, fencing, and a heavy law enforcement presence. Drones and a Blackhawk helicopter circled overhead. Snipers watched from neighboring rooftops. Thousands of people were arriving at the same time, and when I saw the line wrapping around the parking lot, I thought, There’s no way we’ll ever make it inside the stadium.
Thinking our chances were slim, we walked to the neighboring event center that was set aside for overflow, but there was no clear way in. Just as we were standing there wondering what to do next, a new gate opened, and we quickly moved toward it. I turned to one of our friends and said, “I’m going to keep trying until someone tells me, ‘No, you can’t get in.’”
Normally, being in a crowd that size would trigger my anxiety, but this was different. The atmosphere was calm. Peaceful. People were kind. There was no rioting, no fighting, no divisiveness—only a sense of unity. You could truly feel God’s peaceful presence resting over the stadium.
As we stood shoulder to shoulder with strangers, two Arizona natives struck up a conversation. “Can you believe these clouds?” they said. “We never have clouds. Can you imagine how many people would be passing out if the sun was beating down on us? This is from God.”
It had been forecast to reach 100 degrees that day, but in that moment, it lingered in the low 80s.
By what felt like only God’s grace, we made it through the crowd, past security, and into the stadium. Secret Service lined the hallways, their eyes scanning intently as people walked by.
We found our seats as music filled the air—Brandon Lake, Phil Wickham, Chris Tomlin, and other well-known Christian artists performed. Even two hours before the service began, the atmosphere was powerful. It was beautiful.
The crowd—patriotic in their Sunday best of red, white, and blue—was united. Thousands of strangers from across the world stood together because we shared the same values Charlie lived for: a love for our faith, family, and country.
If you streamed the service, you saw the same consistent theme—Charlie’s values woven through every address. It was refreshing to hear, again and again, an undeniable love for Jesus, encouragement to grow and protect the nuclear family, and pride in being an American. Charlie lived with intention and a sense of urgency. It was as if he somehow knew his time would be short.
While every speech was powerful, Erika Kirk’s stood apart. If you do nothing else, watch her speech in its entirety. She spoke with strength, challenged us to rise higher, and—most astonishing of all—publicly forgave the man who murdered her husband.
Every time I watch Erika, I think of the words from Psalm 46:5: “God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.”
What drew an estimated 200,000 people together was the end of Charlie’s life. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel like an ending at all. It felt like a new beginning. A turning point. The closest thing to a revival I have ever witnessed.
How beautiful would it be for our children’s generation to grow up in a nation that boldly embraces Christianity? A nation that prioritizes marriage and raising a family. A nation proud to be American.
Charlie’s assassination was a tragedy—but after just 24 hours in Phoenix, I am convinced God is orchestrating this for good. He is waking people up. He is reminding us of who He is, and where we need to go from here.
So do not delay. Do not wait to grow in your relationship with the Lord. Move forward boldly, with audacious intentionality and a sense of urgency like never before. You are not too old, and you are not too far gone. Don’t miss this opportunity. He is waiting for you.
Godspeed, my friend.
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“But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive.”
