Glenn: This is the weekend to change your life

On this Good Friday, Glenn delivered a deeply personal monologue about the ability to overcome obstacles and start fresh. “This is the weekend to change your life,” Glenn said as he discussed his own journey and a vivid dream he had in 1996 that changed his entire way of thinking.

Below is a rough transcript of the monologue:

Have you ever gotten to the point you just wish you could start over? ‘Like man, I just can't get there from here.’ That's the most amazing thing. And I still think many times, my first response is: You can't get there from here. How? I've got this going on in my life or this happening. I can't get there from here.

That is one of the biggest lies. I think there are a few things that are huge lies that our society teaches us now. That is: You're not capable. You're not able. You just won't be able to make it. You need somebody else or some other thing to complete you – whether that is another person in your life, a spouse, a boyfriend, girlfriend, children; whether that is a new job, a new car, a new house, a new career. Whatever it is, it just will not complete you. When Tom Cruise came in and said, ‘You complete me.’ No, no. She really doesn't. She was hot, and it was great. She helped. She was a great soul mate. But she doesn't complete you. Nothing completes you. You are born complete. The weirdest thing is that a baby is born with everything they need. A baby is born with the ability and the road map already in them. The plan's already there. All they have to do is start activating it. But somehow or another we get lost.

Today there's a lot of Christians around the world that are marking Good Friday. This is Passover week. I have been praying all this week that the destroyer, the Angel of Death would pass over our house – meaning not just our home, but our country – that the destroyer would not visit here, that they would see the mark on our door.

I was reading some things this week, and I wondered: What is the difference between faith and courage? A bunch of us talked yesterday afternoon, we got together after work, and I said, ‘Is faith and courage the same thing?’ And we went back and forth and debated that for a while. I don't think you can have courage, real courage, without faith in something – faith in yourself, faith in your ability, maybe misplaced faith, faith in God.

You have faith in God. You don't sit down. You don't stop because you know, no matter what, you're an unarmed 80-pound weakling. It doesn't matter. I watched the first Captain America with my son this week. We watched it, and here's the 80-pound weakling getting beat up in the alleyway, and the bully says, ‘You never give up. You don't give up.’ He said, ‘No. I could do this all day.’ And the reason why is because he had faith in something. He believed in something bigger. He didn't like bullies, and he wanted to stand up against bullies, and he had faith that there was such a thing as justice. And he got pummeled in the alleyways over and over and over again, but because this is a cartoon, because this is a Marvel comic, what happens to him? He's put into a machine, juiced up with serum and becomes Captain America. That's not the way real life works, unfortunately. Real life is a little harder than that.

So what is the difference between faith and courage? Is there a difference? I think there is, actually, as I have been thinking about it. I asked my daughter – just trying to work off that college education because she took ancient studies and Greek and Latin – and I said King James translates faith, hope and charity, but the last word is actually love. And I called my daughter and I said, ‘Could you translate this for me?’ I said, ‘What is the actual Greek word?’ She said, ‘It's agape… It is the highest form of love.’ There are different words in Greek for ‘love,’ but ‘agape’ is the highest form of love. It is love of God.

Then I realized, faith and courage are not the same thing because I could have faith that I'm going to win. I could have faith in my country. I could have faith in the principles. I could have faith in God, and I'll fight hard. But if I have love, I don't ever stop. If I love my country, if I love my family, I never give up. I never stop. There's never any question. I love it. I defend it. I think love and courage go hand in hand. Without faith, there is no hope. Faith gives you hope. Love gives you courage.

How could one guy, a normal guy change the world with faith, with hope, with love? And the greatest of those is love. And so today we mark the day that one man was given his cross to carry, but we look at this story always as just one guy who was the savior of the world, just that. He's just the savior of the world. Saves all of us. Wildly important, but why were they calling for Barabbas? When Pilot came out and said we have a custom where we can release one person… so who do you want? You want this Jesus guy, who I can't find any fault in, or do you went Barabbas? Why were they screaming for Barabbas? Why would people scream for a murderer? Because he wasn't a murder. That's not what they saw him as. They saw him as a liberator. They were looking for revolution. They were looking for a guy that would topple the government, the oppressive government. They were looking for a guy named Barabbas because he promised vengeance was his. He would kill them, and he would lead a squad to kill them.

Barabbas was released. Did he change the world? Barabbas was released. Did he topple the government? No. No, he didn't. Jesus was not released, and Jesus died on that day. Did he topple it? Oh, yes, he did, with faith, hope and love.

You can't get there from here. Yes, you can. ‘I made too many mistakes in my life.’ No, you haven't. ‘I'm not worthy.’ ‘You don't know me.’ Yes, I do. You didn't know me. Takes five years to really change a man's life. If you're like me, done so many things and had all those moments back, you would change, but you don't think you can. And then you start to, and then something happens, and you fall into a pattern. And it takes five years to truly change, to really wash yourself clean of those patterns. And it takes five years of every week bathing in that water again and saying, ‘Okay, one day at a time, one week at a time.’ And when you really change is when you really love.

Pat will tell you my slogan I used to say it all the time? Pat, what was my slogan, when you first met me?

PAT: I hate people.

GLENN: Any part of me now?

PAT: No. Not even close. I would say it's the total opposite now. Yeah, it was pretty sincere then.

STU: To the point you like people you should hate. You came to the point --

PAT: And have been very forgiving of people who have done you wrong. It's a total change.

GLENN: There's only one reason that that has happened, and it wasn't that I needed it. It wasn't that I wanted it. It was I was given that. I worked for it, but I could never earn it. And I was given that because of the one guy who died 2000 years ago.

If you happen to be struggling, ‘Well, nobody knows me.’ Listen to me: I do. I know how hard it is. I know how dark it is. I know how alone you feel. I know how insignificant or how guilty you might feel. How tired you are. I get it. There's no such thing as a coincidence, and you are listening to this broadcast for a reason. This weekend is the weekend you're supposed to change your life. This is the weekend that you are supposed to say, ‘Okay, I'm starting all over.’

I had a dream in 1996. I changed my life in 1994. In 1996, after I had done so much work – remember, it takes five years – I had done so much work, but I still hadn't really looked into everything. I wasn't going to look into my family, any of that stuff, because I was comfortable. I had a dream, and an old man came to me in a dream. In this dream, I'm standing in a broken corn field that is gray and brown and everything was seepy and dirty, and it was snow and the corn stalks were broken on their side. And I was standing on the black top that was broken and crumbling and gray. And the sky was gray. And as far as I could see, there was nothing but destruction. Everything was dead, dead of winter. And I started turning around in a circle there, trying to figure out where I was going to go, and I saw behind me was this storm, this massive storm. And it was black and undulating and almost a black hole, drawing me in. And I looked at that, and I turned from it.

That's when I heard the voice of an old man. And he said, ‘Where are you going?’ And I said, without looking at him, ‘I don't know. Anywhere but there.’ That's when I turned to him and looked at him. He had like a beard, but it was all like the smoker color, all yellow, and he was all tattered and dirty, wearing tattered clothes. He looked like a bum. And he said, There's nothing to that.’ He said, ‘That's all in your making. There's nothing to that. There's nothing there.’

And I said, ‘That will kill me.’ And he said, ‘No, you have to go through the storm. Let me show you what's on the other side.’ He reached out his hand. I don't know how we got there, but we had gone through the storm and on the other side we were flying. We were up above everything. I could see the other side of the road that I couldn't see because the storm was blocking it. We were now on the other side of the road. Everything was in technicolor. I had never seen a dream so vivid as this, and the grass was super-green, and the flowers were reds and purples and yellows and the blues, deepest, most beautiful blue I had ever seen.

And I didn't look at him. He was behind me again. He said, ‘This is what's on the other side.’ I said, ‘It's so warm here.’ He said, ‘There's nothing to the storm, but you have to go through it.’ As I turned, I woke up. I saw only for a fraction of a second, only saw about a quarter of his face, but now he was pure white, and his beard looked like fiber optics. He was made of light. I woke up.

I painted a picture of that storm. That dream changed my life. I had faith. I had hope. And I had witnessed love. This is the weekend to change your life and begin again.

Civics isn’t optional—America's survival depends on it

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Every vote, jury duty, and act of engagement is civics in action, not theory. The republic survives only when citizens embrace responsibility.

I slept through high school civics class. I memorized the three branches of government, promptly forgot them, and never thought of that word again. Civics seemed abstract, disconnected from real life. And yet, it is critical to maintaining our republic.

Civics is not a class. It is a responsibility. A set of habits, disciplines, and values that make a country possible. Without it, no country survives.

We assume America will survive automatically, but every generation must learn to carry the weight of freedom.

Civics happens every time you speak freely, worship openly, question your government, serve on a jury, or cast a ballot. It’s not a theory or just another entry in a textbook. It’s action — the acts we perform every day to be a positive force in society.

Many of us recoil at “civic responsibility.” “I pay my taxes. I follow the law. I do my civic duty.” That’s not civics. That’s a scam, in my opinion.

Taking up the torch

The founders knew a republic could never run on autopilot. And yet, that’s exactly what we do now. We assume it will work, then complain when it doesn’t. Meanwhile, the people steering the country are driving it straight into a mountain — and they know it.

Our founders gave us tools: separation of powers, checks and balances, federalism, elections. But they also warned us: It won’t work unless we are educated, engaged, and moral.

Are we educated, engaged, and moral? Most Americans cannot even define a republic, never mind “keep one,” as Benjamin Franklin urged us to do after the Constitutional Convention.

We fought and died for the republic. Gaining it was the easy part. Keeping it is hard. And keeping it is done through civics.

Start small and local

In our homes, civics means teaching our children the Constitution, our history, and that liberty is not license — it is the space to do what is right. In our communities, civics means volunteering, showing up, knowing your sheriff, attending school board meetings, and understanding the laws you live under. When necessary, it means challenging them.

How involved are you in your local community? Most people would admit: not really.

Civics is learned in practice. And it starts small. Be honest in your business dealings. Speak respectfully in disagreement. Vote in every election, not just the presidential ones. Model citizenship for your children. Liberty is passed down by teaching and example.

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We assume America will survive automatically, but every generation must learn to carry the weight of freedom.

Start with yourself. Study the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and state laws. Study, act, serve, question, and teach. Only then can we hope to save the republic. The next election will not fix us. The nation will rise or fall based on how each of us lives civics every day.

Civics isn’t a class. It’s the way we protect freedom, empower our communities, and pass down liberty to the next generation.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

'Rage against the dying of the light': Charlie Kirk lived that mandate

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Kirk’s tragic death challenges us to rise above fear and anger, to rebuild bridges where others build walls, and to fight for the America he believed in.

I’ve only felt this weight once before. It was 2001, just as my radio show was about to begin. The World Trade Center fell, and I was called to speak immediately. I spent the day and night by my bedside, praying for words that could meet the moment.

Yesterday, I found myself in the same position. September 11, 2025. The assassination of Charlie Kirk. A friend. A warrior for truth.

Out of this tragedy, the tyrant dies, but the martyr’s influence begins.

Moments like this make words feel inadequate. Yet sometimes, words from another time speak directly to our own. In 1947, Dylan Thomas, watching his father slip toward death, penned lines that now resonate far beyond his own grief:

Do not go gentle into that good night. / Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Thomas was pleading for his father to resist the impending darkness of death. But those words have become a mandate for all of us: Do not surrender. Do not bow to shadows. Even when the battle feels unwinnable.

Charlie Kirk lived that mandate. He knew the cost of speaking unpopular truths. He knew the fury of those who sought to silence him. And yet he pressed on. In his life, he embodied a defiance rooted not in anger, but in principle.

Picking up his torch

Washington, Jefferson, Adams — our history was started by men who raged against an empire, knowing the gallows might await. Lincoln raged against slavery. Martin Luther King Jr. raged against segregation. Every generation faces a call to resist surrender.

It is our turn. Charlie’s violent death feels like a knockout punch. Yet if his life meant anything, it means this: Silence in the face of darkness is not an option.

He did not go gently. He spoke. He challenged. He stood. And now, the mantle falls to us. To me. To you. To every American.

We cannot drift into the shadows. We cannot sit quietly while freedom fades. This is our moment to rage — not with hatred, not with vengeance, but with courage. Rage against lies, against apathy, against the despair that tells us to do nothing. Because there is always something you can do.

Even small acts — defiance, faith, kindness — are light in the darkness. Reaching out to those who mourn. Speaking truth in a world drowning in deceit. These are the flames that hold back the night. Charlie carried that torch. He laid it down yesterday. It is ours to pick up.

The light may dim, but it always does before dawn. Commit today: I will not sleep as freedom fades. I will not retreat as darkness encroaches. I will not be silent as evil forces claim dominion. I have no king but Christ. And I know whom I serve, as did Charlie.

Two turning points, decades apart

On Wednesday, the world changed again. Two tragedies, separated by decades, bound by the same question: Who are we? Is this worth saving? What kind of people will we choose to be?

Imagine a world where more of us choose to be peacemakers. Not passive, not silent, but builders of bridges where others erect walls. Respect and listening transform even the bitterest of foes. Charlie Kirk embodied this principle.

He did not strike the weak; he challenged the powerful. He reached across divides of politics, culture, and faith. He changed hearts. He sparked healing. And healing is what our nation needs.

At the center of all this is one truth: Every person is a child of God, deserving of dignity. Change will not happen in Washington or on social media. It begins at home, where loneliness and isolation threaten our souls. Family is the antidote. Imperfect, yes — but still the strongest source of stability and meaning.

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Forgiveness, fidelity, faithfulness, and honor are not dusty words. They are the foundation of civilization. Strong families produce strong citizens. And today, Charlie’s family mourns. They must become our family too. We must stand as guardians of his legacy, shining examples of the courage he lived by.

A time for courage

I knew Charlie. I know how he would want us to respond: Multiply his courage. Out of this tragedy, the tyrant dies, but the martyr’s influence begins. Out of darkness, great and glorious things will sprout — but we must be worthy of them.

Charlie Kirk lived defiantly. He stood in truth. He changed the world. And now, his torch is in our hands. Rage, not in violence, but in unwavering pursuit of truth and goodness. Rage against the dying of the light.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Glenn Beck is once again calling on his loyal listeners and viewers to come together and channel the same unity and purpose that defined the historic 9-12 Project. That movement, born in the wake of national challenges, brought millions together to revive core values of faith, hope, and charity.

Glenn created the original 9-12 Project in early 2009 to bring Americans back to where they were in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. In those moments, we weren't Democrats and Republicans, conservative or liberal, Red States or Blue States, we were united as one, as America. The original 9-12 Project aimed to root America back in the founding principles of this country that united us during those darkest of days.

This new initiative draws directly from that legacy, focusing on supporting the family of Charlie Kirk in these dark days following his tragic murder.

The revival of the 9-12 Project aims to secure the long-term well-being of Charlie Kirk's wife and children. All donations will go straight to meeting their immediate and future needs. If the family deems the funds surplus to their requirements, Charlie's wife has the option to redirect them toward the vital work of Turning Point USA.

This campaign is more than just financial support—it's a profound gesture of appreciation for Kirk's tireless dedication to the cause of liberty. It embodies the unbreakable bond of our community, proving that when we stand united, we can make a real difference.
Glenn Beck invites you to join this effort. Show your solidarity by donating today and honoring Charlie Kirk and his family in this meaningful way.

You can learn more about the 9-12 Project and donate HERE

The critical difference: Rights from the Creator, not the state

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When politicians claim that rights flow from the state, they pave the way for tyranny.

Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) recently delivered a lecture that should alarm every American. During a Senate Foreign Relations Committee hearing, he argued that believing rights come from a Creator rather than government is the same belief held by Iran’s theocratic regime.

Kaine claimed that the principles underpinning Iran’s dictatorship — the same regime that persecutes Sunnis, Jews, Christians, and other minorities — are also the principles enshrined in our Declaration of Independence.

In America, rights belong to the individual. In Iran, rights serve the state.

That claim exposes either a profound misunderstanding or a reckless indifference to America’s founding. Rights do not come from government. They never did. They come from the Creator, as the Declaration of Independence proclaims without qualification. Jefferson didn’t hedge. Rights are unalienable — built into every human being.

This foundation stands worlds apart from Iran. Its leaders invoke God but grant rights only through clerical interpretation. Freedom of speech, property, religion, and even life itself depend on obedience to the ruling clerics. Step outside their dictates, and those so-called rights vanish.

This is not a trivial difference. It is the essence of liberty versus tyranny. In America, rights belong to the individual. The government’s role is to secure them, not define them. In Iran, rights serve the state. They empower rulers, not the people.

From Muhammad to Marx

The same confusion applies to Marxist regimes. The Soviet Union’s constitutions promised citizens rights — work, health care, education, freedom of speech — but always with fine print. If you spoke out against the party, those rights evaporated. If you practiced religion openly, you were charged with treason. Property and voting were allowed as long as they were filtered and controlled by the state — and could be revoked at any moment. Rights were conditional, granted through obedience.

Kaine seems to be advocating a similar approach — whether consciously or not. By claiming that natural rights are somehow comparable to sharia law, he ignores the critical distinction between inherent rights and conditional privileges. He dismisses the very principle that made America a beacon of freedom.

Jefferson and the founders understood this clearly. “We are endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights,” they wrote. No government, no cleric, no king can revoke them. They exist by virtue of humanity itself. The government exists to protect them, not ration them.

This is not a theological quibble. It is the entire basis of our government. Confuse the source of rights, and tyranny hides behind piety or ideology. The people are disempowered. Clerics, bureaucrats, or politicians become arbiters of what rights citizens may enjoy.

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Gifts from God, not the state

Kaine’s statement reflects either a profound ignorance of this principle or an ideological bias that favors state power over individual liberty. Either way, Americans must recognize the danger. Understanding the origin of rights is not academic — it is the difference between freedom and submission, between the American experiment and theocratic or totalitarian rule.

Rights are not gifts from the state. They are gifts from God, secured by reason, protected by law, and defended by the people. Every American must understand this. Because when rights come from government instead of the Creator, freedom disappears.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.