Fasting is one of those spiritual themes that occasionally interrupts the ordinary. It is more than just a pause from food — it is a call to step away from the noise, the distractions, even the comforts that so easily numb our souls. At its core, fasting invites us to slow down, to listen, and to seek something — someone — deeper.
But, what is fasting really for? Can it be done without prayer — or does that turn it into something hollow? Is it always about giving up food, or can it involve other things? And perhaps most personally — what moves someone to fast in the first place?
These are not just practical questions. They reach to the heart of our walk with God. Because fasting is not ultimately about what we go without. It is about what — or rather, who — we give ourselves to. It is a hunger that says, "Lord, You are my portion." A longing that whispers, "I want You more."
In what follows, we will explore these questions not just to understand fasting, but to discover its beauty — as a gift that draws us closer to the One who satisfies every longing of the soul.
Is Fasting Without Prayer Just a Hunger Strike?
There is no getting around the close connection between fasting and prayer in Scripture. When we fast, we are not merely refraining from something — we are turning our attention and affection more fully toward God. Fasting without prayer might be discipline, but it is not devotion.
Biblically, fasting is often coupled with seeking God's face — whether in times of national crisis (Joel 2:12), personal repentance (Psalm 35:13) or deep longing for divine guidance (Acts 13:2). Jesus, in Matthew 6, speaks of fasting alongside giving and praying — spiritual practices meant to be done sincerely, not for show.
So, fasting without prayer misses the point. It becomes self-centred, rather than God- centred. It is not about going without — it is about drawing near.
Can Fasting Involve Things Other than Food?
While biblical fasting refers to abstaining from food, the principle can extend more broadly. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 7:5, refers to couples abstaining from intimacy for a time, "... so that you may devote yourselves to prayer." The idea here is purposeful withdrawal — not from something sinful, but from something good — in order to pursue something greater.
In our day, it is reasonable to speak of fasting from screens, media, noise or other distractions that dull our spiritual appetite. These kinds of fasts can sharpen our sensitivity to God and help us disentangle from the world's constant pull.
Still, there is something unique and physically humbling about fasting from food. It touches us at a primal level. It reminds us of our frailty. And it creates space — not just in our day, but in our bodies — for God to meet us.
What Stirs the Believer to Fast?
Fasting is not something we do to impress God or to pressure Him into action. It is always a response — a movement of the heart. Sometimes it comes from desperation. Other times, from longing. But always, it is a Spirit-prompted desire to draw closer to God.
We see this throughout Scripture. David fasted in grief and repentance. Esther fasted in courage. Daniel fasted for understanding. Jesus fasted before beginning His public ministry. The early church fasted in worship and surrender.
Behind each fast is a hunger — not just of the stomach, but of the soul. A yearning for God to be near, to speak, to act. Often, the desire to fast arises when prayer alone no longer seems enough — when words fail and we want to become the prayer.
That desire, ultimately, is a gift. It is the Holy Spirit stirring us to seek deeper fellowship with the Father. It does not begin with willpower — it begins with a whisper: "Come closer."
What Are the Benefits?
Fasting brings clarity. It humbles us. It reveals our dependencies — not just on food, but on comfort, routine and distraction. It slows us down long enough to hear what God is really saying.
It creates space for repentance, realignment and fresh intimacy with Christ. It reminds us we are not sustained by bread alone (Matthew 4:4) and it opens us to the sustaining word and presence of God.
But perhaps most importantly, fasting helps us give more of ourselves to God.
So we do not fast to get more from God. We fast to give more of ourselves to Him. And in doing so, we position ourselves — quietly, humbly — for His purposes. We become available, attentive, ready.
Think of the church in Acts 13. They were not fasting to demand a mission — they were simply ministering to the Lord. But in that surrendered space, the Spirit spoke: "Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul..." Their fasting did not earn a calling. It cleared the way to hear it.
As Paul wrote in 2 Timothy 2:21, "If anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonourable, he will be a vessel for honourable use, set apart as holy, useful to the Master, ready for every good work." Fasting can be part of that cleansing — an inward posture of availability.
So yes — fasting makes us useful, not because it proves us, but because it opens us. We fast not to be seen by others, not even to be used by God, but simply to be with Him. And from that place of closeness, He does what only He can do — He forms us, fills us, sends us and may even use us to bring about His purposes.