That’s what makes her story so sobering at the end of a year. Sometimes we move into a new season on the outside—new calendar, fresh goals, new intentions—while still revisiting the past on the inside. We replay what hurt. We rehearse what we should have done. We relive what we lost. We romanticize what God already closed. And without realizing it, we begin to treat yesterday like home.
Then Jesus says something short, piercing, and merciful: “Remember Lot’s wife.” Not to shame us, but to wake us up. Because God’s instruction not to look back isn’t punishment—it’s protection. He’s not trying to take something from you; He’s trying to keep the past from taking you. God didn’t just rescue her from a burning city—He was offering her a future. But looking back can turn rescue into regret, and deliverance into delay.
Imagine a runner in the final stretch of a race. The finish line is ahead, but she keeps twisting around to stare at the miles behind her—where she stumbled, where someone passed her, where she got tired, where she lost time. The past is real, but the body wasn’t made to run while twisted.
Looking back too long steals what you need for forward movement: It steals balance, because your stride gets unstable.
It steals breath, because anxiety tightens the chest. It steals focus, because you can’t aim at tomorrow while staring at yesterday.
It steals speed, because divided attention shortens your stride.
This is what “looking back” can feel like spiritually: carrying shame like a backpack you think you deserve to wear; replaying conversations you can’t redo; comparing yourself to who you used to be (or who you think you should be by now); longing for an old season God already finished. But God is calling you into a freer posture head up, eyes forward, heart steady.
Freedom isn’t pretending 2025 didn’t happen. Freedom is being able to say: “It happened—but it doesn’t get to hold me.” When you release what’s behind, you make room to receive what’s ahead.
What part of 2025 keeps calling you back—regret, bitterness, fear, or even comfort? Where have you left a situation physically, but remained attached emotionally? What is one “forward-facing” faith step you can take this week—one act that proves you’re moving on with God?
Prayer
Lord, as this year closes, help me not to look back in a way that keeps me stuck. I release the weight of 2025—the mistakes, the disappointments, the grief, and even the moments I’m tempted to romanticize. Untangle my heart from anything You delivered me from. Heal what needs healing, and close what needs closing. Strengthen my spirit to obey Your voice without lingering in the past. Teach me to reach forward with faith, to walk into what You’ve prepared, and to trust You with what’s behind me. I choose to face forward—toward Your will, Your peace, and Your promise.
In Jesus’ name, amen.
