I’ve talked about fasting a lot over the years because I genuinely love the discipline of it — and the closeness with God that comes from it.

That Lent, I fasted red meat for forty days and pork for about thirty. That was a big deal for me. Red meat is my favorite. I stuck with it, and I was proud of the follow-through.

But spiritually? I didn’t get much out of it.

I also fasted social media, and that made a noticeable difference. When you stop scrolling, you’re forced to do something else — think, pray, sit with yourself. That alone will reveal a lot.

Right before Easter, my care group did a different kind of fast: no food from 8 p.m. until 3 p.m. the next day, for three days.

That one scared me.

I like three meals a day. And years ago, when I struggled with hypoglycemia, skipping meals could literally make me pass out. But as I’ve gotten older, that issue has eased, so I decided to try.

And it changed everything.

Every day around 10:30 a.m., the hunger hit. Instead of grabbing food, I prayed. I talked to God. I distracted myself with sermons — Steven Furtick, Sarah Jakes Roberts — anything to redirect my focus.

Being hungry made me aware.

More aware than giving up a specific food ever had. When I fasted meat, the cravings came and went. I didn’t sit with them long enough for them to shape me.

But hunger lingered. And because it lingered, it turned into conversation with God.

I realized then: fasting isn’t about deprivation.
It’s about attention.

That fast did two things.
It brought me closer to God.
It reminded me that I could do hard things.

And that matters more than we admit.

Discipline is transferable.

Spiritual disciplines aren’t just about being “good” or “holy.” They train you. If you can be disciplined in one area of your life, it spills into others — writing, leadership, health, obedience, follow-through.

Discipline builds trust. Not just with God, but with yourself.

And when discipline slips, it doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means it’s time to return. To listen again. To get up — maybe not at 4:30 yet, but closer than yesterday.

Because God is still knocking.
And the dream is still waiting.

This three-day fast didn’t begin with a plan. It began with a reminder. Discipline is still the doorway. Hunger still sharpens attention. And God still meets us when we choose to listen.

Over the next few days, I’ll be sharing reflections from our recent three-day food fast — not as experts, but as people learning to return.

Until next time,

Dominique