Finding Forward When Life Scatters You

How the Gospel Transforms Our Backward Gaze into Forward Grace

Photo by Ivan Dostál on Unsplash

I watched them scatter like seeds in the wind.

One by one, people I had broken bread with, prayed for, and served alongside disappeared from the community. Some left quietly, slipping away without goodbyes. Others departed in visible distress, wounded by the growing dissonance between the community's proclaimed values and its actual practices.

The young family who had just dedicated their new baby. The youth who found belonging in a world that previously rejected them. The elderly couple who had faithfully served for decades.

Scattered.

From my vantage point, I could see what was happening. A shepherd, once guided by humility, was now clutching his staff as a symbol of authority rather than service. "I will never leave," his bold words revealing a desperate grasp for position. Ministry slowly transformed into a monument to self.¹ Those who questioned? They were systematically pushed to the margins until they too were scattered.

I stayed longer than I should have, watching the exodus, bearing witness to the harm. When I finally left, I found myself driving past the building, slowing down to stare at the parking lot, remembering. Not just the pain of the scattering, but the moments of genuine community that once flourished there. The intergenerational friendships. The meals shared in celebration and mourning. The collective joy when someone found their way back to faith.

I felt myself hardening in those memories—each backward glance turning my tears into salt. I was becoming a pillar, rooted to that spot of remembrance, unable to move forward.

Perhaps you know this feeling. Maybe your scattering looks different than mine.

Perhaps it's a marriage where love has been replaced by control. Maybe it's a career where your gifts were exploited rather than nurtured. It could be a friendship that became one-sided, a family system that prioritized appearance over authenticity, or any good thing that slowly warped into something harmful.

What makes these losses so disorienting isn't just what we've lost, but the questions they raise:

• How could something that once reflected God's goodness become so distorted?

• Where was God in the scattering?

• How do we move forward without becoming stuck in the backward gaze?

When Looking Back Turns You to Salt

When facing significant losses or transitions, we often find ourselves looking back, replaying memories, wondering what could have been different. This backward gaze is a natural human response to grief and change. But Scripture offers caution about the dangers of becoming fixated on what lies behind us.

The most vivid biblical example of this comes from Genesis 19, where we encounter one of the briefest yet most poignant character portrayals in all of Scripture—Lot's wife. Her entire story is contained in a single verse: "But Lot's wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt" (Genesis 19:26).

The Hebrew text describes Lot's wife becoming "נְצִ֥יב מֶֽלַח" (netsiyb melach)—a pillar of salt.² The word netsiyb suggests something fixed in place, like a stationed guard or a garrison. Her backward gaze wasn’t just a glance—it was a clinging, a longing. The Hebrew implies she gazed intently, as if her heart was still tethered to what God had already judged. Even after being led out, part of her didn’t want to let go.³

In contrast, Jesus tells His followers they are the "salt of the earth" (Matthew 5:13). Salt in Scripture is meant to move, to preserve, to bring out the flavor of God's presence in a broken world. Unlike a pillar, salt is scattered and active.⁴ Jesus warns that salt can lose its saltiness—not chemically, but spiritually—when we stop living out the gospel in motion.

We can either remain frozen in the past or be scattered on purpose. The gospel invites us to choose movement.

The Divine Purpose in Scattering

Scripture doesn’t shy away from the pain of scattering—but it also reveals how God often uses it for redemptive purposes.

In Acts 8, after the stoning of Stephen, "a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered" (Acts 8:1, NIV). What looked like a devastating fracture became the very means of expansion. "Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went" (Acts 8:4,). This wasn’t a setback—it was the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise in Acts 1:8 that the gospel would go to the ends of the earth.

It’s a pattern seen throughout Scripture: Joseph was betrayed and scattered into Egypt, only to become the one who saved many lives. The Israelites were exiled, yet their dispersion brought the knowledge of Yahweh to foreign nations. What looked like loss was often divine strategy in disguise.

Scattering doesn’t always feel spiritual. It can feel like abandonment, failure, or even punishment. But God is often most at work in the places that look like endings. The question is not whether He is present in the scattering—He is. The question is whether we will allow Him to use it to plant something new.

The Gospel in Scattering

Scattering exposes our idols—showing where we’ve placed our trust in people, institutions, or communities instead of Christ alone.

• When a pastor builds their identity around a position instead of their belovedness in Christ, they placed hope in the wrong foundation.

• When someone rests their hope on a charismatic leader rather than the finished work of Jesus, they become vulnerable to disillusionment.

• When I find my worth in belonging to a community instead of being justified by faith alone, I lose sight of the gospel.

This is why scattering, painful as it is, can be an act of divine mercy. It strips away our false sources of identity and security, revealing what we've truly been worshiping. And in that exposed place, the gospel meets us with transforming truth: Christ alone is sufficient.

Jesus experienced the ultimate scattering at the cross. "Strike the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered," the prophecy foretold (Zechariah 13:7, NIV). His disciples fled. The crowds who once followed Jesus now shouted for His crucifixion. Even the Father turned His face away as Jesus bore our sin.

But what looked like abandonment became the pathway to resurrection. In the very place where it seemed all was lost, God was securing salvation for the world.

So when we find ourselves scattered—from a role, a relationship, or a community—we are not cast aside. We are being called back to Christ. He alone is our security. Not the structure, not the people, not the place. Only Him.

Becoming Salt of the Earth Again

I think often of the many people who were scattered from my previous faith community. Some remained stuck in anger or disillusionment, perpetually looking back. But others—many others—have found their way to renewed faith, new communities, and unexpected ministries.

These people refused to let scattering define them or determine their future. They recognized it for what it was—both a painful breaking and an opportunity for new growth. They understood that standing immobile like a pillar meant being forever defined by the past, while being scattered like salt meant bringing flavor and preservation to new places.

"Remember Lot's wife," Jesus said (Luke 17:32, NIV). Not because looking back is always wrong. Reflection has its place. But lingering there, longing for what was, will eventually leave us stuck, unable to move into all that God has for us next.

Whatever has scattered you, know this: God is as present in the scattering as He was in what came before. What feels like a breaking point may be the very place He begins to grow something new.

Your ultimate identity is not found in being a fixed monument to what was lost, but in being scattered as salt—bringing God's flavor, preservation, and healing to a world that desperately needs it. This is the freedom the gospel offers: not being calcified in our backward gaze, but being liberated to move forward with purpose into God's future.

Don't look back. At least, not for too long. The rearview mirror offers perspective, but no one drives forward by staring into it. The horizon before you holds far more promise than the landscape behind.

The path forward awaits.

Footnotes

1. I think we can all recognize in ourselves this slippery slope of pride leading to a fall.

2. GotQuestions.org, "Why was Lot's wife turned into a pillar of salt?", accessed May 2025.

3. BibleRef.com, "What does Genesis 19:26 mean?", accessed May 2025

4. Bible Study Tools, "What Does 'Salt of the Earth' Mean? Matthew 5:13 Verse Explained", June 24, 2020.