The Forgotten Power of Fasting: How God Is Rewriting My Heart, Body, and Life

For years I have tried to love God with all my heart, all my mind, all my soul, and all my strength. I’ve prayed, studied Scripture, worshiped, served, and sought to walk faithfully with Jesus. But there was one area of my life that kept resisting surrender—gluttony. It crept into my habits, my health, my emotions, and even my spiritual life. I didn’t see it clearly until the consequences became painful enough that I could no longer ignore them.

And then Lent arrived.

On February 18th, I began a fast—one meal a day at 7 p.m., water and black coffee during the day. I didn’t know what to expect. I only knew I needed God to do something deeper in me than I could do for myself.

What has happened since then has surprised me.

I’ve been losing more than half a pound a day. My mind feels sharper. My body feels younger. My energy has risen. My patience and gentleness have grown.

But the greatest change has been spiritual.

Fasting has become a doorway into a kind of clarity, humility, and dependence on God that I had forgotten was possible.

The Discipline We Avoid—But Desperately Need

Christians talk often about prayer, Scripture, worship, and community. We teach them, practice them, and build our spiritual rhythms around them. But fasting? That one we tend to leave on the shelf.

Why?

Because fasting confronts us at the level of desire, comfort, and control. It exposes what truly rules us. It reveals the cravings we obey without thinking. It forces us to face the truth that our appetites often have more authority over us than the Holy Spirit does.

And yet Jesus didn’t say, “If you fast…”   In the Sermon on the Mount, He said, “When you fast…”

Not optional. Not extra credit. Not for the spiritually elite. A normal part of discipleship.

Even more striking, Jesus told His disciples that some spiritual battles cannot be won without fasting. Prayer alone wasn’t enough. Certain strongholds break only when the body joins the soul in surrender.

What Fasting Has Been Doing in Me

As the days have passed, I’ve noticed something profound:

• My body is healing.

• My mind is clearer.

• My emotions are steadier.

• My spirit is more attentive to God.

Fasting has quieted the noise inside me. It has humbled my appetites. It has sharpened my awareness of God’s presence. It has softened my reactions and strengthened my patience.

It’s as if God is rewiring me—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

And yes, the hardest part has not been hunger. It has been drinking black coffee. (If you know, you know.)

But even that small discomfort has become a teacher. Every sip reminds me that transformation rarely comes through comfort. It comes through surrender.

What Happens After Lent

When Easter arrives, I plan to continue fasting—shifting my meal to 5 p.m. and allowing myself a little cream in my coffee. Not because I want to lose weight. Not because I want to prove something. But because fasting has become a place where God meets me, shapes me, and strengthens me.

This journey has reminded me that fasting is not about punishing the body. It is about freeing the soul.

It is about breaking the grip of gluttony, anxiety, distraction, and self-indulgence. It is about learning to hunger for God more than anything else. It is about letting the Spirit reorder our desires from the inside out.

Don’t Forget the Power of Fasting

If you pray, read Scripture, worship, serve, and seek God—and still feel stuck, still feel spiritually sluggish, still feel like something is missing—consider the discipline Jesus assumed His followers would practice.

Fasting is not a punishment. It is a pathway. A doorway. A spiritual accelerator.

It is one of the most neglected tools of transformation in the Christian life.

And when we step into it with humility and intention, God meets us there with power, clarity, and renewal.

This Lent, I am discovering that fasting is not about what I’m giving up. It’s about what God is giving back— a clearer mind, a healthier body, a gentler spirit, and a heart more fully surrendered to Him.

May we never forget the transforming power of a discipline Jesus Himself practiced, taught, and expected of His disciples.