Before the Fast...Why Stillness Came First

I didn't begin my journey hungry for food. It started with a hunger for stillness.

Labyrinth at Sedona Wellness Retreat

For a long time, my life has been full! Full of people, responsibility, movement, conversation, opportunity (lots of opportunities!). On the outside, everything looked good. Blessed, even. And IT WAS. I don't take that lightly. I am sincerely blessed.

But beneath the fullness, something quieter had been growing: exhaustion from constant motion, a longing I couldn't quite name, and a sense that I was filling a hole instead of listening.

I realized that I had become very good at "functioning," and not as good at "being."

Before this fast ever started - actually months before it started - I was mentally preparing. A planned six months of stillness, but it got even more intentional the 15 days before the actual water fast. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. Slowing down my eating - only eating fruits, vegetables, and a few (very limited) grains. I was paying attention to patterns, journaling a lot, and noticing how often I reached for food, distraction, or busyness instead of sitting with what I was feeling and processing it.

What surfaced during this time surprised me, not in an overly dramatic way, but in a quiet, slow way.

The loneliness I had been feeling normalized.

Emotions I had managed instead of felt.

Questions I had postponed because I was "too busy" to sit with them.

Relationships that I needed to look at and possibly depart from for my own emotional health.

The truth is, I didn't come into this fast looking for answers, as much as I came looking for "space." Space for God to speak, for my nervous system to settle. Space to see what might surface if I stopped filling every hole and allowed NOTHING to be between God and me.

This series of blogs over the next week or so will capture the full emotional and physical journey of that decision. The days leading up to the fast, the 14 days of the water fast itself, and the re-entry afterward - mostly because transformation doesn't happen in isolation. What we (I) do before matters, and what we (I) do after matters just as much.

For me, the fast itself wasn't about discipline or deprivation. It was an invitation to trust God, to see what happens when I remove what I usually rely on and allow God to meet me there instead.

The day before the fast began, I wrote candidly about that decision and what led me to it. If you would like to read the raw "before" moment, you can find it here:

What will follow in this series isn't polished. It is simply honest. Some days were quiet, others uncomfortable, and some were surprisingly ordinary! Then there were the sacred days that I didn't expect.

I am sharing not because I have it all figured out, but because I am learning to slow down, listen, and stop running, which is something I have needed for a long time. Honestly, many of us quietly need times like these. Even if our lives look "fine" on the outside. Sometimes we choose to make the time to be flat on our backs, "looking up." Other times, God may put us flat on our back... against our will or timing. This has happened to me in the past. This time, I am glad that I chose this intentional time for stillness.

This is where the stillness began.