What are you feeding on?

One of the things I’ve always struggled with is Fasting. For some reason, whenever I hear the word fasting, my stomach immediately starts to feel hungry—lol. Do you feel the same? Because I certainly did. For a long time, I failed at fasting. Even when my church called for fasting and prayer, sometimes just for one meal, I would suddenly get these hunger pangs, as if I were being forced not to eat. It felt like a punishment, like I was being pushed into a corner, as though the whole world would come to an end.

I often see my wife fast and wonder how on earth she is able to do it. But something in me changed lately, and I began asking myself why. I can now confidently say it was the way I understood fasting. I always thought it was more of a ritual—something done for God, to please Him, or to convince Him. As if, when God saw me suffer, He would change His mind.

I remember reading about Moses, how he fasted twice for forty days—once to receive the covenant and once to renew it. This time around, before I began, I prayed to God and said, “Lord, I’m not fasting to satisfy You, but to sharpen myself so that I can hear You and build my relationship with You. I’m not depending on my strength to do this fast; I want to rely completely on You.” I know it wasn’t the most “churchy” prayer, but I felt I needed to be open and honest about why I was doing it.

To my surprise, I fasted for three days straight. Even my wife was surprised and kept asking if I was okay. I surprised myself too. The difference was that I wasn’t fasting as a religious act, but as an act of vulnerability before God. I relied entirely on Him, not on myself. Every time hunger pangs came, I prayed and asked God to carry me through. It awakened my soul to hear more of what God was speaking to me. It felt strange, yet deeply fulfilling. I wasn’t sad; I was full of joy. I wasn’t hungry at all.

Now that I’ve begun to understand fasting, let me also touch on what it is not. In Isaiah 58, God rejects fasting that is disconnected from obedience, justice, humility, and love. A fast without repentance is noise. A fast without compassion is empty. Fasting is never a substitute for obedience—it is meant to sharpen it.

So if you’re someone who struggles with fasting, all I would ask is that you first change your perspective. Fasting is not a tool to convince God; it is a way to turn down the noise of our bodies so we can hear God more clearly. It trains our hearts to trust Him when comfort is removed. In a world built around constant consumption, fasting resists that lie and reminds us that we live by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.