February 6, 2026
Standing Guard on a Tuesday Afternoon

It is 2:47 PM on a Tuesday. You are tired. The afternoon stretches ahead like a desert. Your inbox is full of mediocre problems. A coworker just sent a passive-aggressive Slack message. You feel the pull to reply with something sharp, something that will let them know you noticed their tone. Your fingers hover over the keyboard. This moment, this utterly unremarkable Tuesday afternoon moment, matters more than you think.

Most leaders prepare for the crisis. We rehearse the difficult conversation. We strategize for the high-stakes negotiation. We imagine ourselves leading well when the building is on fire. But the ancient watchman did not only stand guard during the siege. He stood watch at 2:30 in the afternoon when the sun was hot, the city was quiet, and nothing was happening. That was when the enemy scouts approached. That was when small compromises began that would later become catastrophic breaches. The watchman who stayed alert on a Tuesday afternoon was the reason the city survived the Friday night invasion.

Yesterday we walked through the complete Watchman’s Protocol, the four-step framework for self-governance: ARREST the momentum, AUDIT the impulse, ALIGN to truth, and ACT with obedience. Today we need to talk about when that protocol matters most. It is not the crisis. It is the Tuesday. The boring, exhausting, forgettable Tuesday when no one is watching and nothing feels important. That is where the battle is won or lost. You do not rise to the level of your aspirations in a crisis; you sink to the level of your Tuesday afternoon habits.

The Scripture is clear about this pattern. Jesus said the one who is faithful in very little is also faithful in much, and the one who is dishonest in very little is also dishonest in much. He was not being poetic. He was describing the physics of character. Your integrity is not a light switch you flip on when the moment demands it. It is a stack you build brick by brick through ten thousand mundane moments when you tell the truth about why you were late, when you do not exaggerate the metrics in the status update, when you do not vent about a colleague to your team. The crisis does not build your character; it reveals what you have already constructed on all those forgettable Tuesdays.

Here is the test: Can you run the Watchman’s Protocol at 2:47 PM when you are tired, annoyed, and no one will ever know whether you responded with patience or with a cutting remark? Can you ARREST the impulse to fire back? Can you AUDIT whether this reaction is coming from exhaustion or righteousness? Can you ALIGN your response to the standard you claim to hold, not the standard your feelings are screaming for? Can you ACT with restraint when everything in you wants to act with retaliation? If you can do it on a Tuesday, you will do it in the crisis. If you cannot do it on a Tuesday, the crisis will expose you.

The fortress you are building is not constructed in one dramatic moment of heroic decision-making. It is constructed in ten thousand moments when you were tired and bored and tempted to let something small slide. The watchman who fell asleep on Tuesday afternoon woke up to find the enemy already inside the gates. The leader who does not govern their Tuesday afternoon Slack messages will not govern their public response when the scandal breaks. This is not about perfectionism; it is about training. You are teaching your reflexes what normal looks like. If cutting remarks and small exaggerations are normal on Tuesday, they will be instinctive on Friday.

So here is the work for today: Stand guard on your Tuesday afternoon. When the small temptation approaches, when the minor irritation flares, when the forgettable compromise whispers that no one will notice, treat it like the siege it actually is. Run the Protocol. ARREST the thought before it becomes an action. AUDIT the impulse before you believe its credentials. ALIGN to the standard you claim, not the standard you feel. ACT with the discipline that builds the fortress one boring brick at a time. The enemy scouts the walls when no one is watching. Be the watchman who stays awake.

Tomorrow we will look at why wisdom rarely screams and how to distinguish the voice of urgency from the voice of truth. For today, stay alert. The Tuesday afternoon is the test that determines whether your fortress will stand when the real storm arrives.

I write about leadership at the intersection of timeless principles and modern workplaces. Follow for weekly insights on building teams that actually work. For more articles like this consider subscribing to my Substack at: https://christianleadership.now