There are times in life when we need a disruption. In the Old Testament, when people were facing famine, war, crisis, or drought, when enemies were pressing against the gates, the leaders, kings, and generals would call the people to a fast. They needed to hear from God. They needed His direction. But fasting isn't only for crisis moments. Sometimes fasting is necessary simply because we've been drifting. We've hit cruise control. We're stuck in a rut. Birthdays are flying by, years are starting to blur together, and decades pass. Then one day we wake up and think, "How did I get here? Where did it all go?"

Fasting interrupts our autopilot. And we all click into autopilot from time to time. Fasting creates space to hear the whispers of the Spirit. It forces us to ask God, "Am I living the life You've called me to live, or am I just filling space in between the commercial breaks?"

The Disruption We Need and the Disruptions We Remove

Here's another way to think about disruption. Have you ever been lost while driving? One of the first things you do is turn off the radio. Why? So you can focus. You eliminate the noise to regain direction. That's fasting. We turn down the competing distractions and disruptions in our life so we can clearly hear from God, so our soul becomes more responsive to the Holy Spirit.

There's a disruption we need, and there are disruptions we need to get away from. So let's take fasting down from the clouds and bring it to ground level, because we can admire the idea of fasting all we want, but that doesn't mean we'll ever practice it.

Fasting from Food

First, a word of caution: if you're pregnant, diabetic, dealing with medical issues, or have a history of eating disorders, please consult a doctor. Fasting can look different for everyone. It's not about harming your body. It's about preparing your heart.

Here's what I know about food: I love it. Paul told Timothy that food is a gift from God. Food is everywhere. You're going to drive home today and see billboards for it, pass fast food restaurants, and hear commercials for it. A friend texted me this morning with pictures of barbecue, and I'm sitting here trying to talk about fasting. Food is woven into how we move through our day: breakfast, lunch, dinner. We plan around it. We have sayings about it. "That's my comfort food." "I'm stress eating." "I'm eating my feelings today."

I was there during our recent ice storm. My wife and I, because everyone said the world was going to end, went and got a bunch of food. And it wasn't food you could cook, because there was a chance we could lose power. So I didn't want anything that needed a microwave or a stove. I just got snacks. I can tell you that about halfway through the storm, every one of those storm snacks was gone. I was just plowing through them.

Fasting forces me to say, "God, I want You more than I want snacks. I want more of You." It reveals our dependence on sugar, on caffeine, on comfort, and how quickly we rationalize from "I want this" to "I need this." It exposes our idols.

So here's the invitation: start with one meal. Maybe this week, skip dinner or breakfast. Or maybe take a whole day, sun up to sundown. And when your stomach starts to growl, pray. When you feel that hunger and think, "I can't do this anymore," pray. If you want to take it a step further, take the money you would have spent on that meal and give it away. Donate it to organizations providing meals for people who don't have them. That way, your hunger becomes love, and you are loving other people through your sacrifice.

Fasting from Technology

Let's be honest: for many of us, this might be harder than food. If I said right now, "Let's everyone take out our phones and turn them off," there would probably be a little bit of panic. Some of us would be thinking, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, too far. I don't even know how to turn this thing off."

Fasting from technology may be more important than fasting from food because of the world we live in. Many of us, myself included, have become so tied to our devices, our phones, and our social media feeds that we desperately need a break for our soul.

Let me lead with a limp here. Let me just be honest. I've been a student pastor for years, and one of the things I often teach students, especially young men, is to have your phone go to bed before you do. Because if you have your phone at night and you're in a lonely place, it can take you to some dark places. That's something I've practiced most of my life.

But as I was fasting this week, the Lord brought something to my attention. And here's the scary part: I didn't even realize I was doing it. Somehow, my phone had made it back to my nightstand. Every night before bed, I was scrolling, reading, listening, doing that until I got so sleepy I'd just put it down. And the first thing I'd do when I woke up? Pick it right back up. Start scrolling. Reading emails. Texts. Work stuff. I realized that a boundary I had put in place to make sure technology didn't have control over me had quietly moved back in. It was actually through fasting this week that I started to see it.

Technology, we often want to look at it as a tool, but it can become an intruder. It intrudes our dinners. It intrudes how we're being present with one another. It intrudes our silence, our prayer, and our identity.

So what would it look like to fast from technology? Turn your phone off for one hour, or maybe for a day. Take a 24-hour Sabbath from screens. Maybe don't binge the television shows. Go for a walk without your phone. Take your phone and put it to bed before you do. Wake up, shower, eat, and use the restroom before you scroll. What if the first voice you heard in the morning was God's, not your algorithm? Don't you think that would change who is discipling your life?

Fasting from Other Compulsions

Whether you believe in God or not, you know this line is true: if you cannot say no to something, that something owns you. We all carry various compulsions to some degree. The compulsion to overwork and never stop until everything is perfect and everything is done, when in fact nothing is ever done and nothing will ever be perfect. The compulsion to always be in control. The compulsion to have everything neat and tidy. The compulsion to hoard things, either money or possessions. The compulsion to share unsolicited advice, because not everything in your head needs to be said. Maybe it's the compulsion of online shopping, where packages show up at your door every other day.

Some of us don't need to fast from food. Maybe it's habits, comforts, or attitudes that need fasting.

What does this look like practically? Keep the Sabbath. Stop working at a reasonable hour and spend time with God, family, and friends. Stay silent when you're dying to correct somebody. Practice generosity instead of clinging to things.

Fasting Reveals, Reorders, and Disrupts

Whether we're fasting from food, technology, or other compulsions, it's not about subtracting. It's really about surrender, because a transformed heart leads to a transformed life. Fasting reveals what controls us. It reorders our loves. And it disrupts our distractions.

Next week marks the beginning of Lent, Ash Wednesday, when millions of Christians will enter a 40-day season of fasting, praying, and being generous, preparing their hearts for Easter. No matter what your background is, there's something deeply beautiful about setting aside intentional time to say, "Jesus, I want more of You." Lent is about spending time with God. It's not empty religion. It's not a cold ritual. It's renewal. It mirrors Jesus' 40 days in the wilderness, where He withdrew and removed all the unnecessary things to get closer to the Father, to hear the Father's voice.

So the invitation is this: as we walk into the Lent season, as we prepare our hearts for Easter, as we want to draw closer to God, start small. It could be one meal. It could be one hour. It could be one habit. Pair it with prayer, with Scripture, with worship, and with silence. Don't just give something up. Make room for Someone. Create space, because when you draw near to God, He will draw near to you.