From the Facebook page of Robert McAfee

Jaci Vance Lambert is with Turning Point USA.

Today, I went to the Charlie Kirk memorial. While the internet is plastered with pictures and news outlets are sharing clips, I’m confident that there will be those—podcasters, journalists, influencers and critics—who have their fair share of negativity to spread about the day. Gossip sells, after all, so here’s what it was actually like…from someone who was there.

We stood in line in a parking lot in Arizona for five hours. These weren’t straight orderly lines. These were MASSES of people, standing shoulder to shoulder. Inching along. It was hot and muggy. And the majority of people were dressed in “Sunday best.” Suit jackets, long pants, heels. You name it. The opportunity for frustration and exhaustion was EASY. But we painstakingly made our way to the front of the line and these are the things that stood out:

Everyone was polite. Genuine manners. I didn’t register a single curse word all day, and I was surrounded by THOUSANDS of people. They were gracious. They were encouraging, They were positive.

They weren’t speaking poorly about political rivals. They were sharing about their families and where they were from. I met three families from Arizona. Everyone else I spoke to was from Texas, California, Michigan, Wyoming, Montana, Oklahoma, and France. Yes, France.

I watched someone in a wheelchair GET UP and offer her chair to another who needed it more in that moment. I watched people share food and water. I watched people sing and laugh and celebrate. I watched people let others ahead of them in line to catch up with family. I watched a young father race away from his wife and three small children to attend to an emergency medical need until first responders could arrive. I watched respect toward law enforcement and those who were working the event.

I watched the purest form of patriotism. No bullying. No hatred. And that was just in the parking lot.

Once inside, I watched worshippers. 60,000 patriots on their feet, some out of courtesy, but more out of adoration. Hands and voices raised. I watched speaker after speaker proclaim the name of Jesus, openly and without hesitation. I watched hundreds stand to their feet to accept Christ as their Savior. I watched people pray over complete strangers. I watched mommas rock babies and grown men shake hands.

But then I watched a widow take the stage. She wore the grief of the wounded and the confidence of a lioness. She was both vulnerable and fierce. Broken and brave. And in that stadium, I watched utter stillness fall upon the crowd. 60,000 attendees sat captivated in a way that can only be explained as supernatural. The silence was deafening.

And then her commitment. “I forgive him.” Spoken over the young man who took her husband’s life. The one who murdered her children’s father. “I forgive him.”

I watched her eyes look up to Heaven as if begging God…and Charlie…for the strength to utter the words. The statement wrapped us each in a weighted blanket, heavy with the sheer redemption of the moment. And I watched as everyone stood to their feet. Not with a thunderous roar, but in acknowledgment of our own need to forgive…and be forgiven. No one cheered. Just a very long…very poignant…applause. And tears.

The videos don’t capture it. They can’t. It was as if Jesus Himself was hovering in that service today. And those moments don’t always transcend airwaves.

Today, I went to the Charlie Kirk memorial. You’ll be told stories of what it was like. You can digest the drama if you want. But there are 60,000 of us who know what really happened. And it was holy.

Submitted by Sandra Naugle