This last week, my wife and I—along with four of our friends—did what we could to hit the reset button on our bodies. We did a 5-day cleanse. We scrapped coffee, drank barrels of water, and had a handful of fruit-and-root-based drinks throughout the day with a simple, calculated caloric intake. It was meant to help heal our systems and give our bodies a rest.
I am no stranger to fasting and creating space for God, but I will admit that I was apprehensive going into it this time around. Anytime I’ve done a fast/cleanse in the past, I’ve tried to trim my work responsibilities and clean up my calendar. With lower energy, I try to have lower output. Maybe Jesus took his fasting in the wilderness at least partly for these reasons?
But we couldn’t do that this time. It’s the beginning of the year and work is coming at a fast clip. I had to preach three times in the five-day period, publicly celebrating our church’s 40-year anniversary. I wondered if it would tank me. I wondered if my work would suffer. I wondered if my stomach would start gnawing at my brain first. If I had a brain left, would it be foggy? Would I be able to put two coherent sentences together when I stand before the people to preach? And when I got home, I wondered if I would I turn into a “hangry” monster in the presence of my closest people?
The process, for me, leading up to fasting (or denying myself any usual comforts) is incredibly predictable: I always feel like I’m going to die. There’s no small measure of psychological warfare. But I always settle in after a day or two.
Every ancient society shared regular rhythms of fasting, not just because many of them suffered food scarcity, but also because they would have understood it to be a practice healthy for both body and spirit. The Andrew Hubermans, the Wim Hofs, and the nutritionists/cardiologists of our day agree with our ancient aunties and uncles.
Well, I can report back from the field that I loved it. It was actually invigorating, in many ways. So, what did I notice during the last five days?
I noticed just how much I can do without. It’s only when you aren’t eating that you begin to realize how prevalent food is in our bloated society. Reaching for that piece of chocolate in the office. Stuffing sugary mints in your mouth just because they’re around. Putting that extra cream in your coffee. I read in a recent study that the average portion served in an American restaurant is 2/3 more food than we actually need in one sitting. Our portions are out of control, and more Americans could stand feeling hungry more regularly. There’s so much that we can do without.
I noticed that so much of my eating is driven by boredom. Not allowing myself to eat this week gave me 20 times a day to decide to do something else with my nervous energy. Pick up a book. Go for a walk. Take a power nap. Stretch. Get an extra cup of water. Pray. This week made me conscious of the fact that often I’m not eating because I’m hungry; I’m eating because I’m bored.
I noticed how rarely I give my body a break. Sabbath is God’s way of institutionalizing weekly rest for his creatures. Fasting is a sort of Sabbath for our digestive systems. We don’t just need a break from work. Sometimes we need a break from food.
I noticed how good it felt to live with a slight pang of hunger for five days.
I also noticed how often I turned to praying little “breath prayers” for people in poverty. My brief pockets of faux-misery reminded me to intercede for those around the world who are truly trapped in the ongoing trauma of food scarcity.
I noticed how clear-headed I was so much of the time. Going without food can really cause your other senses/faculties to be heightened. I was able to listen really well. Writing, which can often be a slog, was easier most of the time because I was present to my senses and feelings in a way that wasn’t drowned out by being overdosed by unnecessary calories.
I noticed how being hungry made me slow down. You walk slower. You have to. So much of my life, I race around, but not last week. We call it “fasting” when we should call it “slowing”. 24 hours can feel like 36 hours. You move more thoughtfully. You preserve energy. You do away with anything that’s not essential. Busyness was eliminated almost entirely. I liked that. I want more of that.
I noticed how well (and how much) I slept. One night I went to bed at 7:50 p.m. I wonder if a regular rhythm of fasting might help people who struggle with sleep? I’m no doctor, so do your research. But sleep was a solace over the last five days.
I noticed the sense of a strange satisfaction. I liked what I was doing to myself. It was like I knew I was doing something right for my body, my mind, my spirit.
Finally, I noticed an intensified presence of God in my life. It made me wonder if the “absence” of God that I sometimes feel is really just a drowning out of his presence by the oversaturation of too many good things. Too many calories. Too many options. Too many appointments. Too many lesser loves that keep me from the real delight of my life, which is communion with God Himself. Stripping my life back for five days ended up making space for a delight that words can scarcely describe. The principle of fasting is this: Get empty. Become full.
This is not meant to be a hero’s lap around the arena. I didn’t do anything special. I’m simply reporting back from the field. And I’m saying to you that I think after the first day of hating it, you would start to love it. Or at least like what it does in you. I’m planning on doing it four times this year, setting aside five days once a quarter.
The last five days were beautiful—a beautiful time with God, with myself, with my wife, my children, and with a few close friends.
Jesus said it. “Man shall not live by bread alone…” This week, I remembered why.
Thank you. Love to hear about other people's experiences while fasting.
What a perfect time of the year to read an article like this. It’s as if you went to the other side further than before, and are telling us what we’ve been missing out on. The last time I fasted, I realized I needed more of that. Sensing a greater presence of the Lord is reason enough! But all the other added benefits! It’s a key to life!
And what a great title!