Power, Agency, and the Influence We Still Have

There are moments in life when the ground shifts beneath your feet.

Sometimes it's an election that leaves you wondering where the country is headed. Sometimes it's the loss of a job, the death of someone you love, a divorce you never wanted, a frightening diagnosis, or a phone call that changes everything in an instant.

The circumstances are different, but the experience is remarkably similar. The world no longer feels predictable, and you're left asking a question that is both practical and deeply personal:

What do I do now?

As a coach and mentor, I've come to believe that one of the hardest human experiences isn't grief, fear, or even anger.

It's the feeling that your choices no longer matter.

Powerlessness isn't simply the absence of control. It's the quiet belief that nothing you do will make a meaningful difference. When that belief takes hold, people respond in different ways. Some become cynical. Others become consumed by anger. Some withdraw from relationships and responsibilities altogether, while others spend all of their energy trying to regain control over things that were never theirs to control in the first place.

I've done some of those things myself.

What I've learned is that we often confuse power with agency.

Power is the ability to make circumstances bend to our will.

Agency is the ability to choose how we will meet those circumstances.

Life has never guaranteed us power. It has always invited us to exercise agency.

In fact, I've come to believe that when people lose their sense of agency, they often become preoccupied with power. We grasp for certainty. We tighten our grip. We look for someone to blame or someone to save us. It's an understandable response, but it rarely restores what we've actually lost.

That distinction matters because so much of our suffering comes from trying to reclaim a kind of control that simply doesn't exist. We replay conversations that cannot be changed. We argue with reality. We imagine different outcomes and convince ourselves that if only one event had gone differently, everything else would have fallen into place.

Meanwhile, the place where we still have the greatest influence quietly slips out of view.

We still choose whether to tell the truth.

We still choose whether bitterness or compassion will shape our hearts.

We still choose whether to isolate ourselves or reach out for help.

We still choose where to invest our time, our attention, and our gifts—in our families, our friendships, our work, and our communities.

None of those choices erase loss. They don't undo injustice or restore what has been taken from us.

They do something just as important.

They remind us that our humanity has never depended on our ability to control the world around us. It has always depended on our willingness to remain fully human within it.

I don't know what circumstance has left you feeling powerless today. It may involve your family, your work, your health, or something unfolding in the broader culture.

Whatever it is, don't mistake a lack of control for a lack of influence.

There is almost always a next right step.

Maybe it's the difficult conversation that needs to be had, a boundary that needs to be set, someone who needs encouragement, a truth that needs to be spoken, or a responsibility that only you can carry.

Our well-being and sense of self hinge on recognizing those moments and finding the courage not only to endure them, but to act in ways that preserve our agency even when we feel powerless.

A Word to Those Who Lead

If you're entrusted with leading others, there's another question worth asking.

Are you spending more energy protecting your power than strengthening your influence?

Whether you're a parent, a teacher, a pastor, a business owner, a counselor, or an elected official, your influence will almost always outlast your authority.

Every leader eventually discovers the same truth: power has an expiration date.

Titles change. Elections end. Companies are sold. Children grow up. Congregations move on.

Influence is what remains.

Power can secure compliance for a season. Influence earns trust, and trust is what changes people.

History doesn't remember leaders for how long they held power. It remembers how they used that power. We remember those who told the truth when it was costly, admitted mistakes, welcomed accountability, treated people with dignity, and placed principle above self-preservation.

Every leader faces the temptation to tighten their grip when circumstances become uncertain. Yet the greatest leaders understand that their legacy will never be measured by how much power they accumulated. It will be measured by the character they cultivated in the people they served.

Perhaps that's true for all of us.

We don't always get to choose the circumstances that shape our lives.

We do get to choose whether those circumstances become the author of our character.

And if we've been entrusted with influence over others, we also choose what kind of people our leadership helps them become.

For me, that's where hope begins.

Lance Minor

8/06/2026