I’m sure most people have either heard of or played the game of Jenga. For those who haven’t, it’s a delightful little game of wooden blocks where you build a tower, then take turns removing blocks from the bottom and carefully placing them on top. The goal? To avoid being the one who makes the tower crash.

The concept is simple, but the tension is palpable. The farther along you get, the wobblier the tower becomes. Hearts race, hands tremble, and everyone holds their breath as they watch. It’s a beautiful blend of strategy, patience, and just a little bit of luck.

I have such fond memories of playing Jenga with my kids when they were little. Sometimes we played by the book, and other times we made up our own rules, sprinkling in a bit of creative chaos. Regardless of how we played, the game would always follow the same rhythm. We’d start strong, carefully stacking and balancing, but it wouldn’t take long before our tower looked like an architectural tribute to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I remember the nervous anticipation, the whispered “Don’t crash, don’t crash…” as we teetered on the edge of chaos.

Recently, I found myself reflecting on Jenga and how much it resembles life. Hear me out.

Building Life Like a Jenga Tower

Life, much like a game of Jenga, starts strong. Early on, the pieces fit together well. The structure is stable. Maybe it’s because we’re focused on what truly matters or because we’ve got fewer “blocks” to manage. For me, this is when I center my life on God, the solid foundation that stabilizes everything else. At the start, everything feels balanced, and life is relatively calm.

But then, the busyness of life creeps in. Commitments pile up. Priorities start to shift. One by one, I begin pulling blocks from the foundation to stack them elsewhere. Work, family activities, personal goals, obligations, social events… each one feels so important in the moment, so I keep stacking. And stacking. And stacking.

Before I know it, my once-solid foundation is wobbly. The tower looks sturdy on the surface, but underneath? Chaos. My heart races, my stress piles up, and I live in fear that everything will eventually come crashing down.

And here’s the hard truth. If I don’t pause, if I ignore those racing thoughts and that quiet whisper reminding me to slow down, my tower does eventually crash. And when it does, I’m left staring at the pieces, wondering how I’ll rebuild.

A Better Way to Build

Here’s what I’m learning (sometimes very slowly): Life doesn’t have to feel like a game of Jenga. It doesn’t have to be a constant balancing act, one wrong move away from collapse. Instead of stacking higher and higher, I’m trying to build my life more like a set of Lincoln Logs.

Do you remember playing with Lincoln Logs as a kid? Unlike Jenga, Lincoln Logs aren’t about building precarious towers. They’re about creating something solid and intentional. A strong base is key, and each piece is carefully placed to support what’s around it. There’s no rush, no towering chaos. Just thoughtful, steady progress.

For me, that means putting God back at the center of my foundation. It means reprioritizing my life, placing the most important blocks first, and letting everything else fit naturally around them. It means learning to say “no” sometimes, even to good things, so that my life remains balanced and sustainable.

Am I perfect at this yet? Absolutely not. My instinct is still to stack, stack, stack. But I’m learning. And in those moments when I feel the wobble in my “tower,” I’m learning to pause, breathe, and remind myself that life isn’t meant to be precarious.

Reflect and Rebuild

If any of this resonates with you, I want to encourage you to take a moment to reflect. Is your life feeling wobbly right now? Are you stacking too many blocks and neglecting your foundation? It’s okay to admit that things feel unbalanced. That’s the first step toward rebuilding.

Even if your “life tower” has already crashed, take heart. Every piece scattered on the ground is an opportunity to start fresh. Build slowly. Build intentionally. And this time, build something solid.

Life isn’t Jenga, my friends. It’s okay to stop stacking. ❤️