When Did Hate Become the Default?

I don’t even know where to begin

Charlie Kirk was murdered yesterday.

That sentence shouldn’t exist—but it does. A man—a husband, son, friend, and human being—is gone. Taken in the most brutal, horrifying, senseless way imaginable. Not because he hurt someone. Not because he posed a threat. Not because he broke the law.

Because someone didn’t like what he believed.

After the news of this senseless murder, a friend of mine posted something on Facebook I haven’t been able to shake:

“Shut up or die – apparently.”

Read that again slowly. Let it land.
“Shut up or die.”

Because that’s where we are. We’ve crossed the line where disagreement is no longer met with debate. It’s met with death.

We used to be a country where you could sit across the table from someone you disagreed with and still shake their hand. Still hug them. Still raise a glass or send them a Christmas card. Now? People are gleeful in the comment sections, celebrating a man’s violent murder because they didn’t like his opinions.

That’s not civics. That’s not citizenship. That’s not America.

It’s cowardice. It’s darkness. It’s the ugliest version of ourselves.

And I’m tired of pretending this is normal. It’s not.

Charlie Kirk was not some cartoon character on a debate stage. He was a man. A real one. He had people who loved him. He had a family. He had a life. And now, someone has to explain to his loved ones why he isn’t coming home. Someone has to raise kids without their dad. Someone has to wake up tomorrow with a hole in their world—because another human being decided speech was violence and death was justice.

And yes, I’ve seen the comments already trying to spin this. I had one pop up on Facebook earlier, from a relative asking:

“Why is it that we never see as much anger and disgust when schools and innocent children are shot and killed? Have you all forgotten that Charlie himself stated there will never be zero gun deaths in an armed society, and he was okay with that!!!”

Here was my answer:

I don’t agree with anyone shooting up a school. I am outraged at every one! Stop with the your side–my side stuff. It’s unacceptable regardless of party. The guns are not the problem. The mental health we no longer address properly is the problem.

Like my answer? Great. Hate it? That’s okay too. But don’t twist it into an excuse for murder.

If you can’t see past the end of your nose and hate me because I’m a Republican, I’ll add you to my prayer list. Truly. Because that kind of hate eats you alive from the inside out.

I’m so sick of the “but what about” arguments. You can be heartbroken about school shootings and also mourn Charlie’s death. You can want better mental health support and still believe in the Second Amendment. You can care about all loss of life—not just the lives that fit your worldview.

Because this should never be about sides. It should be about humanity.

We are so far from where we’re supposed to be.

We’re drowning in social media snark and performative outrage, numbed by shock value and obsessed with “owning” the other side. And while we’re busy scoring points online, people are dying. Literally.

This is not the America I believe in.

I believe in porch conversations and front-row pews. In hugging someone who thinks differently because you still love their heart. In church, in family, in grace. I believe we can come back from this—but not if we stay this hardened. Not if we keep mistaking cruelty for courage.

Charlie Kirk’s death was not just a tragedy. It was a warning. A flashing red light that we’ve gone too far. That we’ve stopped seeing each other as human. That we need to turn around before we lose everything.

So yes, I’m prayed last night, and will pray again tonight. For Charlie’s family. For my country. And honestly? For the people leaving disgusting comments online who think this is okay. Because we’ve lost the plot.

We need more Jesus. More kindness. More hugs. More grace.
More conversations that start with, “Help me understand,” instead of “You’re evil.”
More faith. More laughter. More hand-holding through heartbreak.

Because this isn’t about politics. It’s about people. And we better start acting like it.

Rest in peace, Charlie. And may God wake us up before it’s too late.