Don’t Look Back

Don’t Look Back:

Twenty-five years. A quarter century.

Looking back, it is hard to see the woman I was—or maybe more accurately, the girl. She was so broken, so addicted, feeling unworthy and unlovable, convinced she was damaged in a way that could never be repaired. She tried to take her life twice, once at fifteen and again at twenty. She had two children she rarely cared for on her own. Her virtue was stolen at twelve. She spent her adolescence running away, using methamphetamines, and using her body to manipulate men much older than her just to get what she needed, trying to fill a void, trying to feel loved—seeking a love that was never going to be found in the world, and definitely not through sex.

Twenty-five years ago, she woke up next to a stranger.

Something changed in her. At the time, she thought it was her own strength—her own willpower—but what she remembers now is waking up different. She was no longer waking up desperate for the next high. She no longer desired the drug that once made her feel unstoppable, unbreakable, full of energy, feeding her pride. Quietly, she slipped out of that house and never looked back.

In the Bible, there is a story about one woman who isn’t even named. She is simply known as Lot’s wife. An angel came and warned her, do not look back. But she did—and she was turned into a pillar of salt.

Over the last twenty-five years, there were many more things to come between me and the Lord. Many experiences. Many traumas. A marriage filled with domestic violence, manipulation, and more. And now, as I sit here, I think to myself again: don’t look back. There is nothing there for you. Although the Lord was always with me, He does not want me to look back. I was not walking in my character then. I was not walking as the woman He created me to be—and He knew that.

He knew before He created me that I would do those things. Make those mistakes. Use those drugs. Stick that needle in my arm. Manipulate that man. Hurt that woman. Steal that thing. Lose that job. Yell at my child. Hate myself. Try to take my own life. Covet my neighbor.

He knew then.

And today, as I sit here, I hear Him clearly: Do not look back.

Today, I get to wake up and walk in character.
Twenty-five years free from methamphetamine.
Twenty-five years free from the drug that tried to steal my life.

The Warning Was Mercy, Not Punishment

Genesis tells us:

“Flee for your lives! Don’t look back, and don’t stop anywhere in the plain!”
(Genesis 19:17)

And later:

“But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.”
(Genesis 19:26)

Lot’s wife is never named. Scripture doesn’t tell us her thoughts, her regrets, or her reasoning—only her action. She looked back.

Looking back wasn’t about curiosity. It was about attachment. About longing for what God had already declared unsafe, dead, and destroyed.

The angel didn’t say, “Don’t look back because you’re bad.”
He said it because looking back would cost her freedom.

Shame Will Always Ask You to Turn Around

For women especially, shame has a voice.
It says:
• Remember who you were.
• Remember what you did.
• Remember what they did to you.

Shame tries to anchor us to a version of ourselves that God already redeemed.

When God says don’t look back, He isn’t denying your story—He’s protecting your future.

Looking back can harden us. Immobilize us. Keep us stuck in guilt, self-hatred, and false identity—just like salt that no longer moves or grows.

Walking Forward Is an Act of Faith.
There were still traumas. Still pain. Still seasons of confusion and suffering. Freedom didn’t mean an easy road—it meant a directed one.

God never asked for perfection.
He asked for obedience.
He asked for movement.
He asked for trust.

And sometimes obedience looks like this:
Not rehearsing the past.
Not identifying with old labels.
Not living in the courtroom of yesterday.

Who You Were Is Not Who You Are.

God knew everything.
Before the addiction.
Before the needle.
Before the shame.
Before the violence.
Before the self-hatred.
Before the survival choices.
Before the worst moments.

And He still chose you.

You are not disqualified by your past.
You are not defined by your lowest season.
You are not required to relive what He already redeemed.

A Word for Women Today:

If God has told you don’t look back—listen.

Not because your past doesn’t matter,
but because your future matters more.

Walk in today.
Walk in character.
Walk in identity.
Walk in freedom.

The place you left behind no longer has permission to speak.

Twenty-five years later, the testimony remains:
God keeps His word.
Freedom is possible.
And shame does not get the final say. He does.

I am she. 

-Crystal Rapp