When God took From the Bottom: When God Breaks You to Rebuild you

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If you ever played Jenga, you know it's a fun game for friends and family. The rules are pretty simple: take one block on a turn from any level of the tower and place it on the topmost level without the tower falling.

However, it doesn't take a structural engineer to know—don’t take a piece directly from the bottom.

There are many vital pieces that aid in the tower's structural integrity, but bottom ones are critical. They're the foundation. Taking from the bottom means you’re prepared for collapse.

The Unspoken Rule

Knowing this simple rule, it really goes without saying. You just don't touch those pieces. Most players avoid them unless the game gets intense.

I always believed these were unspoken rules, the kind everyone just knows—people and God alike. After all, God knows everything.

So I asked myself...

Why did God take from the bottom?

A Tower I Built

I had built something wonderful.

Sure, there were some holes, but it stood tall. It looked majestic. It was strong—for a long time

until one day, a piece that held up everything was moved... and it all came crashing down.

Now why, God, did you need to touch that?

The piece that kept the tower from falling. The piece that kept everything intact. God could have pulled from anywhere, and this is where He chose.

The Aftermath

I was now broken. Pieces everywhere—some too far to locate, some on top of the other parts of me, scattered everywhere. I had no idea how to rebuild what took me years to construct perfectly.

I wondered:

• Did God hate me?

• Did He want to see me in shambles?

• Was He watching me fall apart on purpose?

I was lost, broken, scared, anxious, and disheveled. He broke me—and it only took one piece to realize the truth: my foundation was faulty.

The Prayers That Invited It

I realized I opened my mouth and invited God. It was my doing by praying:

> “Lord, restore me,”

...not knowing He would need to touch faulty parts to do so.

That I prayed:

> “Search my heart and find any offense,”

...and there may have been offensive pieces.

Prayers like:

> “I tear down altars and build new ones.”

Not knowing some pieces came from these altars.

The Fall of Me

What was I thinking?

I did this to myself by asking for what I did not understand—for what I did not know would be “the fall.” Not the one in the beginning of Genesis—but the fall of me.

I began to scramble around to build back what I could remember and put things in places I believed they went—and that’s not what God wanted.

His Way, Not Mine

He wanted to be the builder. He wanted to choose which pieces went where. But what was difficult is: He wanted to do it at His pace, His timing, and His way.

I blamed God. Later, I realized it was a strategic ambush by the enemy. Still, I asked:

Why, God, didn't you stop it? Why didn't you warn me?

But He allowed it because He saw it would be good for me.

Redefining "Good"

The word good has changed for me.

It used to mean pleasurable. But when you add the phrase “for your” in front of it—something shifts.

“For your good”

no longer means comfort in the moment. It has nothing to do with feeling—it’s all for a future result.

Future: Purpose, Growth, transformation & strength

God was equipping me for a good that didn't yet exist for me.

The Shambles

That missing piece left me in shambles.

Sleepless nights, nightmares, anxiety, fear, sadness, sickness, and more tears than I could count.

He didn't break me per se, but moving that piece resulted in a loss of more than just built-up ideologies, mindsets, and timelines—it resulted in the loss of identity.

Who was I now? Where was I going?

Things just felt hevel now. (meaningless, vapor, fleeting).

Piece by Piece

God gave me a piece—literally—day by day. I felt like the children of Israel waiting for manna. He became my daily bread.

A slice a day

A victory a day

Never the whole loaf—just enough.

This pace was not what I was used to. My recovery was taking longer than I wanted. I began to look like what I was going through. I couldn't hide it—I was broken, and it showed.

God took from the bottom—and that's where I had to start from.

The Rebuild

His way was not my way. I was forced to submit in order to rise up again—day by day, bit by bit.

Never left alone or forgotten, just slowed down and being reframed.

I fell, but God picked me back up again.

As for the piece that did it all—I had to pick it up and give it to Him in exchange for Him being my foundation truly.

I had to manage realizing that I was a Christian, but God was the missing piece.

💬 Final Thoughts

Sometimes, God has to break what we build on faulty ground—especially when we invite Him to restore us. When He takes from the bottom, it’s not to destroy, but to rebuild us with Him as the foundation.

And when He rebuilds… it’s better than before.

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