Mike’s Musings: Erika Kirk’s Greatest Act of Courage-Forgiving the Unforgivable

When tragedy strikes, our instincts often turn toward anger, resentment, and the pursuit of vengeance. That is human nature. Yet, every so often, someone rises above those instincts and shows us a higher way — a path of grace that most of us cannot even imagine taking. Yesterday, Erika Kirk did exactly that.
Her husband’s life was taken in an act of senseless violence. An assassin’s cruelty left her with a wound so deep that many would carry it with bitterness for the rest of their days. For Erika, no one would have questioned such a response. To lose the person you love most to violence is a cruelty that defies comprehension. But instead of clinging to anger, Erika made a choice that was as astonishing as it was brave: she forgave her husband’s killer.
As she walked on that stage in front of 60,000 people and millions more watching on television there to memorialize Charlie Kirk, including President Trump and Vice-President Vance, with her eyes full of tears, she stepped up to the bullet-proof glass podium and delivered one of the most powerful speeches I have ever heard.
I like many expected words of revenge, but instead we heard words of forgiveness.
Forgiveness is often spoken about in sermons and inspirational speeches, but rarely is it lived out in such a raw and public way. The world admires forgiveness in theory, yet when we are asked to practice it ourselves, especially in matters so grave, it feels nearly impossible. Erika showed us yesterday that it is not only possible, but powerful.
Her act of forgiveness was not about excusing the crime. It was not a dismissal of justice, nor was it a denial of her grief. Rather, it was a declaration that she would not let hatred define her future. By forgiving the one who shattered her life, Erika reclaimed her power. She chose not to live chained to bitterness but to walk forward with strength and peace. That decision — perhaps the hardest any of us could ever make — is the very essence of courage.
Forgiveness on this scale is not weakness. It is, in truth, one of the greatest strengths a human being can possess. Anyone can lash out in anger; anyone can demand vengeance. But to release anger, to let go of hatred, and to speak words of forgiveness in the wake of devastation — that requires a depth of character that is both rare and inspiring.
The significance of her decision is not limited to her own healing. By choosing forgiveness, Erika has extended hope to others who are carrying their own burdens of loss and resentment. She has shown that forgiveness is not only possible in unimaginable circumstances, but also life-giving. Her act stands as a quiet challenge to the rest of us: if she can forgive something so monumental, what grudges are we holding that suddenly seem smaller by comparison?
In a society that often glorifies retaliation and revenge, Erika’s choice is countercultural. It is also deeply necessary. We live in a world where anger seems to dominate our public life, from political discourse to personal disputes. Erika has reminded us that there is another way of grace, mercy, and, above all, courage.
Maybe, just maybe, her speech and forgiveness will hit home to the next person so filled with rage they feel they need to commit murder or assassinate a political figure. Maybe as a nation we will realize forgiveness is a better trait than revenge. Maybe needless killings will stop. Maybe our leaders won’t be so divided.
Her words will not erase her pain. They will not bring her husband back. The grief will remain, as it always does after such loss. But her forgiveness ensures that grief will not harden into hatred. It ensures that the rest of her life, though scarred, will not be consumed by bitterness. That is a gift she has given herself, and it is also a gift she has given us all.
Erika Kirk’s decision to forgive the unforgivable is one of the most courageous acts we will witness in our lifetime. It was not the size of the crowd that mattered yesterday, but the size of her heart. And in that heart, we saw a glimpse of a strength far greater than anger — the strength to forgive.