“Remember Lot’s wife.” — Luke 17:32
Three words.
One warning.
Of all the people Jesus could have pointed us toward, He chose a nameless woman whose story occupies only a few verses in Genesis. Why?
When God sent His angels to rescue Lot and his family from Sodom, the instruction was unmistakable:
“Escape for your life. Do not look back.” (Genesis 19:17)
The path to freedom had already been provided. God wasn’t asking them to find their own way—He had made the way. All they had to do was keep moving forward.
But Lot’s wife looked back.
I don’t believe it was simply the turning of her head that mattered. It was the turning of her heart.
Her body was leaving Sodom, but part of her soul still belonged there.
She longed for what God had already called her to leave behind.
How often do we do the same?
God delivers us from addiction, unhealthy relationships, destructive thinking, bitterness, pride, or whatever has held us captive. He opens a door we could never open ourselves. He gives us a future we never thought possible.
Yet even while walking toward freedom, we find ourselves looking over our shoulder.
We romanticize the very things that once enslaved us.
We remember the excitement but forget the emptiness.
We miss the temporary comfort but overlook the lasting consequences.
Recovery has taught me that leaving isn’t only about changing where my feet are planted. It’s about allowing God to change what my heart desires.
There are moments when my mind tries to romanticize my drinking. It will replay carefully edited scenes of laughter, celebrations, and what seemed like carefree times, while conveniently erasing the loneliness, the anxiety, the broken relationships, the shame, and the bondage that always followed. Addiction has a way of remembering the highlights while forgetting the heartbreak.
But I have to remind myself that God didn’t deliver me from the grip of alcoholism simply to leave me longing for it. He rescued me so I could finally be free—free to surrender my will to His, free to experience the life He had intended for me all along, and free to walk beside others who are still making their way down that same jagged road. Every difficult step away from my old life has become another opportunity to point someone else toward hope. The very road that once led me into darkness has become the road where I now get to reach back, take another person’s hand, and remind them that freedom is possible.
There is a dangerous temptation to believe that what God rescued us from somehow held more life than what He is leading us toward. But that’s the lie of every addiction and every vice. It promises life while quietly taking it away.
Jesus’ warning is just as relevant today as it was two thousand years ago.
Remember Lot’s wife.
Remember that freedom is found by looking ahead, not behind.
Remember that God’s future will always be greater than the memories of the past.
Remember that longing for yesterday can keep us from experiencing the blessing waiting tomorrow.
Remember that sometimes we can physically leave our old life while our hearts are still trying to return to it.
The life God is calling you into is too precious to sacrifice for a glance at the life He already delivered you from.
Keep your eyes on the One leading you—not on the place He rescued you from.
Reflection
What am I still looking back at? Is there something God has clearly called me to leave behind that I continue to revisit in my thoughts, my desires, or my actions? Am I trusting that what lies ahead with God is infinitely better than anything I left behind?
Prayer
Father, thank You for making a way where there was none. Thank You for rescuing me from the things that were destroying me, even when I could not rescue myself. Forgive me for the times I have looked back with longing instead of looking forward with trust. Change not only my direction but also my desires. Help me to remember why You called me out, to walk fully in the freedom You have given me, and to encourage others who are still finding their way. Keep my eyes fixed on You, never forgetting that the greatest life is not behind me—it is the one You are leading me into. Amen.