.png)
We hear it all the time: “New season, new me.” And while there’s nothing wrong with entering a fresh chapter, let’s be honest—new things don’t always mean better or new favor. Sometimes the “new” is just different… not divine.
Let’s talk about Lot’s wife.
Yes, the infamous woman who turned into a pillar of salt. Her story often gets told like a cautionary tale of disobedience. But what if we look at it through a more human lens?
What if instead of simply judging her, we paused to feel her?
What if One Day Wasn’t Enough?
Imagine being told to pack up and leave everything you’ve ever known—in one day. Your home, your routines, your neighborhood, your memories, your friends. Gone. The Bible doesn’t give her a name, but Lot’s wife wasn’t just someone’s spouse. She was a woman who built a life in Sodom. She likely raised her children there, cooked countless meals in her kitchen, and created memories in that space.
"There’s no greater joy for a woman than witnessing the happiness and well-being of her family and friends.
When the angels came and told Lot to get his family and run, they were saving them from destruction. But to Lot’s wife, it probably didn’t feel like a rescue. It might’ve felt like a robbery. One moment she’s living her normal life, the next moment she’s fleeing a burning city with no chance to even gather her precious keepsakes.
We often move on physically but not emotionally. Maybe that’s why she looked back—not because she doubted God, but because she had unfinished grief.
Growing up, leaving things behind always felt like heartbreak.
I remember crying when I advanced to the next grade—not because I wasn’t proud of myself, but because the chapter I’d known was ending. I cried at my high school graduation, not from joy, but from sorrow. I wasn’t crying because I was graduating—I was crying because I had to leave it all behind. The people, the hallways, the memories.
It hurt so deeply, I never went back to visit. I actually relocated back to the city for a job and never drove by that high school once.
I often wondered if I suffered so type of trauma in life that made me that way. I never even went back to my high school reunion. And I think that’s why, when I walk away from something now, I don’t look back. The memories can be so painful. Maybe I lost my real parents and family that way.
That’s why I can’t help but feel something when I think about Lot’s wife.
The New Isn’t Always What It Seems
Here’s the part we don’t always talk about: Lot and his daughters ended up living in a cave. A cave, y’all.
That “new place” didn’t exactly scream favor. It wasn’t some palace. It wasn’t a flourishing land of milk and honey. It was hidden, dark, and isolated. Sometimes God will pull us out of destruction—but what He leads us through next can still feel desolate.
That cave season can test your faith. You leave what’s broken but familiar, only to enter into what’s foreign and uncomfortable. And it’s in those moments that we’re tempted to look back, to romanticize what we escaped. But just because the new feels hard doesn’t mean the old was holy.
She Looked Back... Don’t We All?
Let’s be real. Looking back is a natural reaction to change. How many of us have looked back while trying to move forward?
You leave toxic relationships, and you scroll through old pictures or social media.
You step into a new job, and you second-guess if the old one was really that bad.
You start healing, and you miss the comfort of your old wounds.
I remember when my son was little and asked me to make him a cheese sandwich. I was happy to do it—until halfway through, he started giving me step by step instructions. He burst into tears with frustration because I wasn’t making it the way my mom did.
I calmly explained, “Baby, there’s more than one way to make a sandwich.” He eventually tasted mine… and ended up loving it.
But then—this boy had the nerve to ask me, “Did my mom teach me how to make sandwiches?” I was so annoyed! But what could I say? He was used to her cooking and her sandwhiches.
That moment stuck with me. I realized I wanted him to grow up with memories of my cooking too. So I learned to cook for him—not just to feed him, but to leave a piece of me in every bite. Because food isn’t just food—it’s love, comfort, and legacy.
We all have a bit of her in us.
Don’t Let the Past Rob You of the Present
God doesn’t call us forward to punish us. He calls us forward to protect us. Lot’s wife didn’t turn into salt because she was a bad person—she turned because she couldn’t let go. And letting go is hard when what you had still has a piece of your heart.
But here’s the truth: what’s ahead may not look promising yet, but God doesn't lead us into a future without purpose. Even in a cave, He can birth legacy.
Final Thoughts: Salt or Strategy?
Looking back may feel natural, but staying stuck there is dangerous. The lesson from Lot’s wife isn’t just about disobedience—it’s about grief, transition, and trust.
The next time you’re tempted to idolize your past just because the future feels unfamiliar, remember: God isn't asking you to erase your memories, He’s asking you to trust that the move—no matter how abrupt—was for your protection.
Don’t be a pillar of salt, instead to your a season into a strategy. You may not understand the “new,” but don’t assume favor is absent just because comfort isn't.
Scripture to Meditate On:
“But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.” – Genesis 19:26
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” – Isaiah 43:18-19
Journal Prompt:
What past season do you find yourself looking back at? What truths about that season do you need to remember in order to fully move forward?
