The other day, I pulled up to work, reversed parked the car like a boss, and just sat there quietly, pulling myself towards myself. As my mind often does, it drifted straight to Scripture.
I started thinking about Proverbs 18:10 and how powerful the name of the LORD must be if the Bible calls it a strong tower. The thought filled me with faith and wonder. I whispered a quick thank You that I could run to His name in times of trouble and walked toward the office with holy optimism.
But as I stepped through the door, I was met by my boss, who immediately started rattling off instructions no greeting, no pause, just a flood of demands. My mind wandered: “Can this guy not even give me a moment to get on the clock first?” Before long, dishonouring thoughts piled up, and the optimism I carried from the car felt like it had evaporated in seconds.
And right there, I felt the sting of conviction, like Peter hearing the rooster crow. On cue, the accuser’s voice whispered: “Where’s your strong tower now? That faith wasn’t real. You were just playing theologian in the car. Out here in the real world, you’ve got nothing.”
Scripture:
“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and are safe.” — Proverbs 18:10
The Pivot Back to the Tower
For a moment, I stood there carrying two weights the sting of my own dishonouring thoughts and the sharp voice of the accuser. And honestly, part of me wanted to agree with that voice: “Maybe I am just faking it. Maybe I’m not as strong as I thought.”
But here’s the thing: the strength was never mine in the first place. Proverbs 18:10 doesn’t say, “The righteous are a strong tower.” It says, “The name of the LORD is a strong tower.” The tower isn’t built from my discipline, my patience, or my self-control. The tower is the divine name itself the LORD’s character, His presence, His faithfulness.
That means even when I walk into the office and my mind trips over dishonouring thoughts, the tower still stands. The door is still open. I can still run in. My weakness doesn’t dismantle His refuge.
So right there, under the weight of frustration and accusation, I prayed silently: “Lord, You are my tower. I’m running in now. Hold me steady.” And like a deep breath after a long day, His presence gave me enough perspective to face the moment differently not perfect, but anchored.
Practicing Refuge at Work
Running into the name of the LORD doesn’t always look dramatic. It’s not about chanting a verse or escaping into a corner office chapel. It’s often small, almost hidden habits that turn my heart back to Him in the middle of ordinary pressures.
Here are a few ways I’m learning to practice it:
- The breath prayer. A quiet inhale and exhale at my desk: “Lord, You are my tower. Be my peace right now.” Ten seconds, but it resets the heart.
- The pause. Before answering a sharp demand or rushing into a task, taking three slow breaths to remind myself: I’m not alone in this moment.
- The reframe. Instead of fixating on “my boss disrespected me,” I whisper: “The LORD sees me. My worth isn’t measured by this exchange.”
- The boundary. When my thoughts slide into dishonour, I choose a different sentence: “I will show respect, because I serve the Lord even in this workplace.”
None of these things make me flawless, but they keep me close to the tower. They remind me that His name isn’t just a theological concept—it’s a living refuge I can step into at any moment.
The Tower Still Stands
By the time I settled at my desk, I realised something: the accuser wanted me to believe that one frustrated thought was enough to prove my faith wasn’t real. But that’s a lie. The strength of my faith isn’t measured by whether I never stumble; it’s measured by the One I turn to when I do.
The divine name is not fragile. It doesn’t crumble because I lost focus at the office door. The tower still stands. The door is still open. And every time I run in whether with clean hands or trembling ones I find the same thing:
safety, perspective, and the reminder that I am His.
Living between the LORD and the workplace means I’ll feel that pull every day. But it also means I have a place to run, again and again, into His unshakable presence.
Reflection
- Where do I most often feel pulled away from God in my workplace?
- What small practice could help me “run into the tower” in that moment?
- How does knowing the tower still stands change how I see my stumbles?
Prayer
LORD, You are my strong tower. When I stumble in thought or attitude, remind me that Your presence is still my refuge. Teach me to pause, to breathe, to remember You in the middle of ordinary pressures. Anchor me in Your faithfulness today, and let my work become a place where Your strength is seen in my weakness. Amen.
