Hey darling, welcome back to the blog!
Today is one of those mornings where everything feels a bit chaotic—another typical parenting day. I’ve just finished the mad rush of getting my daughter ready for nursery, which is always a fun combination of lost shoes, her insisting she doesn’t need a coat (despite the chilly air), and me trying not to break a sweat as I juggle packing her snacks and making sure I didn’t forget anything important. I’ve already sacrificed a cup of coffee to keep the morning routine running smoothly, and now, as I walk her to the nursery, I’m already trying to psych myself up for the next challenge ahead: day two of my three-day fast.
Let me tell you, fasting while parenting is like trying to run a marathon with a bag of snacks in hand, there are so many moments when you have to remind yourself, “No, you’re not allowed to eat that. You’re fasting!” Honestly, the struggle is real. As soon as I got back from nursery drop-off, I passed a bakery, and I’m pretty sure I could’ve fainted just from the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air. But this fast is about more than just resisting the temptation to snack, it’s about drawing closer to God and refocusing my mind on what matters.
It’s been a rollercoaster, to say the least. The first day was surprisingly manageable. Maybe it was the excitement of the fast itself or the adrenaline of starting something new, but I felt motivated and spiritually refreshed. Day two, however, was a different story. The hunger pangs were loud, and every food ad on my social media felt like it was mocking me. I could hear my stomach growling at me with increasing intensity, and let’s just say, my patience for anything that wasn’t water or tea was wearing thin. But, as the hours passed, I found that fasting gave me a deeper sense of clarity and a fresh perspective on my relationship with God. There was a quietness that I hadn’t experienced in a while, a space where I could listen and reflect without the usual distractions.
Throughout these three days, I’ve learned a few things. First, I’ve discovered that fasting is far more mental than physical. It’s not just about resisting food; it’s about staying spiritually connected through the physical struggle. It’s about finding strength in your weakness and trusting that God will meet you in those moments. And let’s be real, fasting also teaches you a lot about your relationship with food and how much you rely on it to comfort you or fill time when you’re bored. By day three, I was getting more comfortable with my hunger, realizing that even though my body was craving food, my spirit was feeling more alive than ever.
What’s the Big Deal About Water Fasting?
Water fasting is all the rage in the wellness world. Some claim it offers benefits ranging from weight loss to improved brain function. Some even say it triggers autophagy, a posh word for your body’s clean-up crew binning old cells to make way for shiny new ones.
As Christians, fasting is about more than health. It’s a spiritual discipline. Joel 2:12 says, “Even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” It’s a time to refocus and rely on God’s strength instead of our own cravings.
So, for three days, I became my guinea pig to see what happens when you combine a modern wellness trend with faith.
Day 1: Optimistic but Hungry
The first day started strong. I prayed for strength and sipped my salted water like a hydration queen. But by lunchtime, when the living room was wafting with the aroma of someone’s lovely BBQ sandwich, I began questioning my life choices.
Salted water is not exactly manna from heaven, is it? (Exodus 16:31 describes manna as being “white like coriander seed and tasted like wafers made with honey.” A far cry from my bland beverage.)
By dinner, my stomach sounded like the Tube during rush hour—loud and unsettling. I distracted myself by meditating on Isaiah 40:29: “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” That verse got a workout because I was weary, all right.
Day 2: Peak Delusion
Day two brought mental clarity or at least that’s what I told myself while I stared blankly at my laptop screen for an hour. Fasting makes you sharp. Well, I felt about as sharp as a wet sponge.
I also learned an important lesson: don’t watch cooking shows while fasting. Watching Mary Berry whip up a Victoria sponge felt like self-torture.
But prayer became my secret weapon. When hunger pangs struck, I turned to Psalm 34:10: “The lions may grow weak and hungry, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.” Somehow, that reminder settled me. God’s strength does sustain you when your own is running low.
Day 3: Is This Over Yet?
Ah, the final stretch! By day three, I was practically a fasting guru, or so I thought. I had visions of emerging as a lean, glowing goddess, ready to take on the world. Instead, I spent most of the day googling, “Can you smell chips through a screen?”
But something miraculous happened. By the evening, I felt calm, even joyful. The hunger subsided, and I sensed a closeness to God that felt almost tangible. James 4:8 says, “Come near to God and he will come near to you.” It’s true, fasting emptied me physically and spiritually, leaving more room for Him.
What I Learned from My Water Fast
- Autophagy is Amazing (Apparently):
Autophagy sounds like something out of a sci-fi film, but it’s just your body having a tidy-up. Like Marie Kondo-ing your cells. - Weight Loss? Sure, But…
Yes, I lost a few pounds, but this isn’t a sustainable weight-loss method unless you enjoy hunger pangs as a lifestyle choice. - It’s About More than Food:
I came into this thinking about health benefits but left with a deeper understanding of God’s provision. Fasting is a reminder that He truly sustains us: “Jesus answered, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’” (John 6:35) - Breaking the Fast is Key:
The first meal post-fast needs to be gentle—think soups, smoothies, and small portions. Dive into a fry-up too soon, and your stomach will remind you who’s boss.
Would I Do It Again?
Honestly, yes. There’s something powerful about stepping away from the table and turning towards God instead. Fasting forces you to listen, to your body, your spirit, and God’s voice. It’s hard, no doubt, but the rewards are eternal.
So, there you have it. Three days of water, salt, and willpower. Would I recommend it? If you’re healthy, curious, and up for a bit of self-experimentation, give it a go. But if you can’t part with your morning cuppa or hate the sound of your stomach growling louder than a jet engine, perhaps stick to intermittent fasting instead.
So, after three days of fasting, three days of hunger, reflection, and, let’s be honest, a lot of thinking about food, I can say this was a deeply rewarding experience. Sure, there were moments when I was about ready to dive into a plate of pasta or snack on anything I could get my hands on, but those moments of struggle taught me a lot about discipline, grace, and the importance of keeping my eyes fixed on what truly matters.
Fasting is not a magic fix, and it’s not easy. But it’s powerful in ways I hadn’t expected. I’ve learned that it’s okay to have moments of weakness, that there’s no shame in being hungry physically or spiritually and that true strength comes when you rely on God during the most challenging times.
As for me? I’ve emerged from this fast with a greater sense of peace, an appreciation for the food I sometimes take for granted, and a renewed desire to continue growing in my spiritual walk. I’ll be enjoying my next meal, of course, but I’m also walking away with a deeper connection to God and a reminder of what it means to depend on Him.
If you’re considering a fast, or you’re currently in the middle of one, remember, it’s not about perfection. It’s about the journey, the lessons, and the grace you find along the way. So, whether it’s three days or three weeks, you’ll come out stronger for having made the effort. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve earned a really big meal.
Sending blessings to you!
Scherise. X
