Two Kinds of Power

Fortunes built by selling outrage and half-truths one click at a time. Influence bought, traded, and spent like currency. Campaigns that win by convincing half the country to despise the other half. Families who can no longer share a holiday table over an election. And beneath it all, a culture that measures a life by its "quality" or what it can produce, and quietly sets aside the ones it decides don't measure up. 

None of this is inevitable. Every bit of it is a choice. And if it's a choice, there's another way. 

Destroyers and Builders 

There are two ways to move through this world. 

Some people chase power. They want control. Or credit. Or a crowd. And because building is slow and hard, they take the faster road. They tear down. They teach hatred. They silence anyone who disagrees. They settle scores. They divide neighbors, mock the weak, and burn what others spent years putting up. 

Herod knew that road. He was so afraid of losing his throne that he executed his own wife and three of his sons over suspected plots. And when wise men arrived asking where the newborn King of the Jews could be found, Herod didn't see a child. He saw a rival. He pretended he wanted to worship, and when that failed, he sent soldiers to kill every little boy in Bethlehem two years old and under (Matthew 2:16). 

That is where the hunger for power always ends. First the vulnerable become a burden. Then anyone who stands in the way becomes a threat: the neighbor who won't inform, the believer who won't bow, the man who prays to the wrong God, or to any God at all. Until every human life is disposable. 

History keeps proving it. Stalin's purges. Hitler's gas chambers, first used on the disabled. Mao's famines. The killing fields of the Khmer Rouge. ISIS slaughtering Christians and Yazidis for their faith. 

But any fool can burn a barn. It takes a carpenter to raise one. 

And the Carpenter from Nazareth walked the other road. He was born in a stable. He spent His last night on earth washing His disciples' feet. He told them that the rulers of this world lord it over people, but "whoever would be great among you must be your servant" (Mark 10:43). 

The builder doesn't ask, "What do I get?" He asks, "What does this person need?" He doesn't care whose name is on the building. Jesus told us to give so quietly that the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing (Matthew 6:3). 

You'll see both kinds of people this week. On the news. On social media. At work. Maybe in the mirror. The question isn't which kind is louder. We all know that answer. The question is which kind you will be. 

The destroyer's work dies with him. The builder's work outlives him. 

One at a Time

A boy once handed Jesus five barley loaves and two fish. It wasn't enough, and everyone knew it. Jesus took it anyway, gave thanks, and fed five thousand (John 6:9–11). The boy didn't feed the crowd. He just offered what was in his hands. 

Mother Teresa never tried to end poverty. She picked up one dying man at a time. She told us to do small things with great love. 

This is how God has always worked. Not through the loud and the powerful, but through the faithful. The prophet asks who would dare despise the day of small things (Zechariah 4:10). 

What can one man do? Love his wife. Raise his children. Keep his word when no one is watching. Defend the most vulnerable, even when it costs him. Show up. 

What can one man and one woman do? Say yes to each other every day. Say yes to a child the world said no to. Then spend a lifetime proving the world wrong. 

What can one small organization do? Cathy and I started Team Iron Will around our kitchen table. Not because we had a plan or money, but because we knew we were called. And in just under four years, we've served more than 6,000 families of individuals with Down syndrome in 47 states and 41 countries. We didn't get there by grabbing power, chasing headlines, or stepping on anyone to climb. We got there one child and one family at a time. 

A new mother who, in the hardest week of her life, heard "congratulations" and began to hope. A little girl who found her voice because someone paid for the therapy her parents couldn't afford. A father who stopped grieving the son he expected and started loving, and fighting for, the son he has. Brothers and sisters who learned to advocate for and defend the most vulnerable. 

You cannot unbuild a life that has been given hope. No election can overturn it. No fortune can buy it. No one with a crowd and a microphone can tear it down. 

That is not a lesser kind of change. It is the only kind that lasts. 

And on the days it feels like too little, remember the boy with the loaves. God multiplies what we offer. The small thing in your hands is enough, because it is in His. 

That is real power. It doesn't shout. It doesn't take. It kneels, it serves, and it builds. 

Herod's throne is dust. The Carpenter's kingdom has no end.