“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?” – Isaiah 58:6 (NIV)
In a world of constant noise, clutter, and instant gratification, the discipline of fasting may seem outdated or extreme. Yet throughout Scripture, fasting is not just a spiritual ritual—it’s a divine invitation. Perhaps in this season, God is calling you—calling us—to return to this sacred practice not out of religious obligation, but out of a desire to seek Him more deeply.
Fasting is not just abstaining from food; it’s about emptying ourselves so that God may fill us. It’s about aligning our hearts with His will. Jesus Himself fasted (Matthew 4:2), and He taught that when—not if—we fast, we should do so in secret, with sincerity, and not for show (Matthew 6:16-18).
Maybe the breakthrough you’ve been praying for is on the other side of obedience. Maybe the clarity you’ve been searching for will come when your soul gets quiet enough to hear God’s whisper. Perhaps the healing of your family, your city, your nation is tied to a people willing to humble themselves, pray, and fast (2 Chronicles 7:14).
Fasting has always been connected with repentance, intercession, and preparation. Moses fasted before receiving the Ten Commandments (Exodus 34:28). Esther called for a fast before approaching the king to save her people (Esther 4:16). Daniel fasted to seek understanding and received divine revelation (Daniel 10:3,12). Even the city of Nineveh fasted, and God relented from judgment (Jonah 3:5-10).
What if God is calling this generation to return to the altar through fasting—not just as individuals, but as communities, as churches, as families?
Fasting is not about twisting God’s arm—it’s about tuning our hearts. It breaks strongholds. It clears spiritual fog. It sharpens discernment. And most of all, it draws us into deeper intimacy with our Creator.
So maybe it’s time to turn down the plate and turn up the prayer. Maybe your soul has been dry because it’s been too full of everything but God. And maybe—just maybe—He’s calling you to fast.
