Most people are familiar with the party game called, “Jenga”. For those who aren’t, I'll give a brief description.
Fifty-four hardwood blocks form a tower. The tower is built by putting three blocks next to each other, flat, in one direction. Three more blocks are placed in the opposite direction on top of the first three blocks and this process is repeated for all of the subsequent blocks until all of the blocks are used. What results is what appears to be a fairly sturdy tower. The object of the game, however, is for each player to find a block that isn’t bearing much weight (or any weight, at all) and to remove it on his/her turn without causing the collapse of the whole tower. This starts out as an easy process since there are generally more than a few blocks that are loose and not weight-bearing, but becomes more and more difficult as the remaining blocks truly are weight-bearing.
There was a point in my search for truth where the Lord showed me that I had a “tower” of truths--what most would call “religious” truths, specifically. In a nutshell, it had been my “testimony” of what my religious organization taught. I believed that all of its pieces were true because I had been told that they were true by others and some of them had, indeed, proved to be true. After I had accepted God as my only source of truth, He showed me how I had gone to Him to find out if some of my beliefs were true, but I hadn’t bothered to ask if any of the rest were true. I just assumed that they were. I understood that if I let Him show me which blocks to remove and when, I had nothing to fear. He showed me that many of the things that I assumed were true were actually like loose Jenga blocks. They weren’t weight-bearing at all. They weren’t actually adding anything to the overall strength of the tower. In fact, some of my beliefs were so untrue that the ease of their removal from my overall paradigm was like flicking loose Jenga blocks out of the tower with my finger. They just go flying and the structure doesn’t even wobble.
I also understood that many beliefs are like the blocks that are weight-bearing. When you play Jenga, removing those blocks is what makes the game suspenseful and fun. It's fun to see if the tower can withstand the removal of one of its critical pieces or if it will crumble into a pile of blocks. If the tower falls, you can just reset everything and play again. But when you are removing "truths" that are supporting other beliefs in your life, it's not fun. It can seem absolutely terrifying because our beliefs often deal with things that we have set our hearts on. In fact, the Lord showed me that when He asks people to remove these beliefs from their tower, because they don't trust Him, most stop playing. Some just stop and admire what is left because they don't want to dismantle everything that is false at the perceived risk of losing everything that is true (not realizing that that risk doesn't exist). Some leave the game because they don't know what to do at that point. These people are often those who have been conditioned to believe that their authentic experiences with God are proofs that their religious institution and everything associated with it (doctrines, policies, practices, leaders, buildings, standards, programs, etc.) are also from God. When that is disproven by just one counterexample, they don't know how to differentiate between what is actually of God and what is not. Consequently, these people typically end up doing one of two things. They either find a way to justify the counterexample so that they can maintain the status quo or they end up abandoning everything, including their belief in God and the actual truths from Him that they once possessed. The latter can be so incensed by the perception that they have been lied to that they make their way to the opposite side of the "all-or-nothing spectrum" and mistakenly conclude that if one thing they were told to believe isn't true, none of it must be true. They purposely knock the tower down and, in a childish tantrum, refuse to play anymore. The Lord gave me a great deal of empathy for those who stop playing, for whatever reason. They miss out on the best part of the game.
In reality, the best part of the game is that the Lord builds a "strong tower". This is where the Jenga analogy has its end. What the Lord does is better than Jenga in every way. It ends in greater happiness because you finish the game with something better than you had before. It is ever-increasingly suspenseful because as your trust in the Lord grows you are able to endure situations that would have previously broken your trust in Him. The Lord doesn't just remove the weak things. He replaces them with what is strong and sure. When you let Him show you what blocks to remove, you never end up with a wobbly structure or, worse, a pile of blocks because He always, eventually, puts something better in its place. You end up with something that is sure. It is the ability to withstand your enemies. It is a place of safety and refuge in the midst of destruction. It cannot be shaken. It cannot be disturbed. It endures everything that comes against it. It is peace, anchored in love. It is Him and it is you. It is you in Him and Him in you.
"1 Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer.
2 From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
3 For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.
4 I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings. Selah." (Psalm 61)
"10 The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe." (Proverbs 18)