Where Are You Pitching Your Tent?

Today, the story of Lot has been resting on my heart.

Lot was Abraham’s nephew, and when the Lord called Abraham into an unknown land, Lot journeyed with him. For a time, they thrived side by side. But as their possessions grew, tensions rose between their herdsmen. The land could no longer support them both. So Abraham, loving and generous, gave Lot the first choice of where to settle. Whatever Lot chose, Abraham would take what remained.

We find that pivotal moment in Genesis 13:10–13 (NLT):

“Lot took a long look at the fertile plains of the Jordan Valley... The whole area was well watered everywhere, like the garden of the LORD... So Lot chose for himself the whole Jordan Valley... and moved his tents to a place near Sodom... But the people of this area were extremely wicked and constantly sinned against the LORD.”

Sometimes, there are places that look good—fertile plains, places that appear as delightful as the garden of the LORD—but they bring a certain death to the soul.

We never read that Lot stopped to pray or seek the Lord. He simply saw, concluded, and acted. And honestly… that’s often how I make decisions, too. Logical. Practical. Well-reasoned. But that’s exactly what Lot did—and it wasn’t enough.

“There is a path before each person that seems right, but it ends in death.”—Proverbs 14:12 (NLT)

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”—Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)

If we want to walk in those good plans—the ones full of hope—we must submit even the obvious decisions to the Lord. Our logic is limited. Our sight is dim. Only God sees the whole picture.

In Genesis 13:12, it says, “Lot pitched his tent near Sodom.” That direction matters.

When we pitch our tent near darkness, we shouldn't be surprised when shadows begin creeping in.

Proximity to sin invites its influence. Sin is sticky like honey—but never sweet.

“Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked... but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.”—Psalm 1:1–2 (ESV)

Notice the progression: walking near sin → standing with it → sitting down in it. It’s gradual—but it’s sure. We can’t pitch our tents near Sodom and then act surprised when Sodom comes knocking.

In Genesis 19:4–5 (NLT), when Lot offers hospitality to three men (angels of the LORD in disguise), the men of Sodom come to his house:

“Before they retired for the night, all the men of Sodom, young and old, came from all over the city and surrounded the house. They shouted to Lot, ‘Where are the men who came to spend the night with you? Bring them out to us so we can have sex with them!’”

I can’t even imagine. A mob—at your door—demanding to abuse your guests.

Lot tried to reason with them (but you can’t reason with sin). In verse 9, they snapped:

“This fellow came to town as an outsider, and now he’s acting like our judge! We’ll treat you far worse than those other men!”

The angels then struck the men with blindness and rescued Lot. But that’s just a glimpse of how far Sodom had fallen.

Later, the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah—but not before sparing Lot and his family. The angels warned them not to look back. But Lot’s wife did… and was turned into a pillar of salt. A spiritual truth is hidden here: when we look back longingly at the things God calls us to leave behind, we risk spiritual death.

Then comes one of the saddest parts of Lot’s story. After fleeing, he and his daughters live in a cave. Believing they had no future, the daughters made “logical” plans—without the Lord. 

In Genesis 19:30–38, they got their father drunk and slept with him to preserve their family line.

You see, they left Sodom… but Sodom hadn’t left them.

Sin leaves residue. Maybe Lot resisted the culture of Sodom, but clearly, it left its mark on his wife and daughters.

This is a sobering reminder. It’s not just about what I can personally withstand (spoiler alert: not much—I need Jesus every day), but also about what I’m exposing my family to. What am I pitching my tent toward? What am I letting into my home—through our screens, our habits, our leniency toward culture?

Lot’s story is a mirror. It shows us how easy it is to be drawn in by what looks good, logical, and prosperous—while missing God’s warning signs. We may survive Sodom, but Sodom may still leave its mark on our hearts and homes. Let’s not pitch our tents near sin. Let’s seek God’s voice before we take the next step. For our sake—and for the sake of those we are responsible for. 

Reflection Corner

• Where am I pitching my tent? Are there places where I’ve settled near compromise, justifying my choices because they seem beneficial or harmless?

• Do I seek God’s direction—or rely on my own reasoning? Have I made decisions based on opportunity, appearance, or pressure, without inviting God into the process?

• What legacy am I leaving? How are my choices shaping the spiritual atmosphere of my home? Am I quietly inviting Sodom in… or gently leading my family toward God’s presence?

Practical Takeaways

• Pray before you choose. Before making a decision—big or small—pause and invite God into it. Ask Him to reveal the unseen and guide your next step.

• Do a “tent check.” Take inventory of what you’ve allowed near your heart and home. Ask: Is this pulling me closer to the Lord or subtly drawing me away?

• Guard your home. Be mindful of what enters through entertainment, culture, or conversations. Set boundaries with grace, not fear—trusting God to protect and guide your household.

• Stay in the Word. Meditate on Psalm 1 and Jeremiah 29:11 this week. Let their truths redirect your gaze.

May we pitch our tents toward God’s presence. May we resist the pull of Sodom—not just for ourselves, but for those entrusted to our care. May we walk, stand, and sit in the counsel of the Lord.

Shalom and grace,

Lis