One of the unexpected benefits of fasting is not just physical discipline, but spiritual clarity.
Fasting sharpens your awareness. It reveals what normally goes unnoticed. Distractions become louder before they fall away, and emotions rise to the surface so they can be examined instead of ignored. In that way, fasting is not only about what you deny your body, but what you confront within your spirit.
One of the quiet struggles of this fast has not been hunger. It has been restraint. Not restraint from food, but restraint from explaining myself, defending myself, and shrinking just enough so someone else can feel more secure.
Fasting has a way of exposing how often we feel compelled to justify who we are, what we know, and why we move the way we do. It reveals how easily the need for approval can slip into places where confidence once lived. And it shows us just how much energy can be spent trying to be understood by people who are not actually seeking understanding.
If you have lived long enough, you learn that there will always be people who see you and people who search you. Some meet you with grace. Others arrive already looking for fault. No matter how carefully you speak, how thoughtfully you move, or how much good you bring, they will find something to question.
That realization can be unsettling, especially in a season of consecration and prayer.
The Apostle Paul asked a question that is rarely quoted, but deeply revealing:
“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?” (Galatians 1:10).
That question lands differently during a fast.
Because fasting strips away the illusion that every opinion deserves equal weight. It reminds you that obedience to God will not always be comfortable to people, and clarity of purpose can sometimes make others uneasy. Not every reaction requires a response. Not every criticism requires correction.
Scripture also tells us, “A person’s wisdom yields patience; it is to one’s glory to overlook an offense” (Proverbs 19:11).
Overlooking is not weakness. It is discernment.
There will always be a thorn. Someone who presses, provokes, critiques, or unsettles you. The mistake is not their presence. The mistake is allowing them to redirect your focus, dilute your confidence, or pull you into defending what God has already affirmed.
Fasting teaches restraint.
Restraint in speech.
Restraint in reaction.
Restraint in the need to be validated.
It teaches you how to stop chasing clarity with people who benefit from misunderstanding you. It reminds you not to make yourself smaller just so someone else can feel bigger. And it strengthens your resolve to keep walking in purpose without dragging every critic along with you.
You already know who you are. You already know what you have been called to do.
You already know the fruit of your labor.
So do not chase people who are committed to misunderstanding you. Do not shrink to make someone else comfortable. And do not abandon your assignment just because someone else is uncomfortable with your obedience.
Brush it off. Keep walking. Let God deal with what you cannot fix.
