From Hunger to Holiness: My Desert Journey with Spiritual Fasting

Lent is meant to be a time set apart—a sacred season to cultivate a deeper union with Christ. It can be described as a “desert place,” removed from the normal comforts of life—a place where we encounter the Lord in prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. It is in this place, in this relationship with Him, that our prayers become most effective. And for that union to happen, I find that fasting from sugar, flour, and alcohol while learning to pray for a spiritual purpose makes all the difference in creating a healthy and holy Lent.

Lent isn’t meant to look like January or February. We are called to shake ourselves awake—to step away from routine, examine the vices that hold us back, and offer a real sacrifice. It is supposed to be a desert experience, a time of discipline and reawakening to Spiritual Fasting.

Spiritual Fasting is challenging but powerful. It is simply delaying food or alcohol for a time, for a spiritual purpose, and ultimately drawing closer to Jesus in mind and body. It is a body-and-soul experience—a chance to get hungry with Jesus, for Jesus.

We know that prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are the three spiritual pillars of Lent. The Church urges us during these 40 days to reflect, give more than usual, and make sacrifices. But of the three pillars, fasting is perhaps the one most neglected.

Maybe it’s because we don’t understand fasting, or maybe we don’t want to feel discomfort. But Lent without fasting is missing something essential.

Fasting isn’t about what you lose—it’s about what you gain. It’s about what Christ fills you with when you empty yourself of the comforts of this world. When you strip away the distractions, you finally have space for Him.

I love this quote from St. Maximus of Turin on going into the desert with Jesus:

The very body of the Christian is in a sense a desert when it is not filled with food and cheered with drink. Then Christ the Lord inhabits the desert of our body . . . where we are safe and secure from the thoughts of this world, he takes it for his own habitation, so that from then on we might see heaven and earth within ourselves.

There is nothing like a desert Lent. One that is felt. One that is hungry. One that is focused on Spiritual Fasting. I call it Delay and Pray—delaying sugar, flour, and alcohol to Sundays, and praying instead. Sounds daunting, but it’s not when done with God and a plan.

I had my first true desert Lent in 2020, when everything shut down for Covid. For the first time in my life, I was physically locked out of church. It was then that I realized how much I had taken Mass for granted. I promised God that I would never take Lent lightly again.

So, I covered myself in prayer.
I fasted off sugar and alcohol.
I immersed myself in Scripture, religious books, and online retreats.

That year during Covid, I found myself deeply saddened, lonely, and set apart—not only from my friends and family but from the Eucharist itself–even on Easter Sunday. After Covid ended, I appreciated life so much more–especially Mass and connections with my own family.

Then came the desert Lent of 2021 at the tail end of Covid. I had no idea how much it would change me for the better. The year before, my mom was in a retirement home that had been locked down for months. She was lonely. Isolated. Fading. Our family was divided over what to do. Some of us wanted to bring her home. Others thought she should stay. The turmoil in our tight-knit family was heartbreaking. So I prayed and fasted again. It was desperate fasting. Big prayers had to be answered.

I started delaying sugar, flour, and alcohol until Sundays, and begged Jesus to let us into the retirement home to care for our mom. Within weeks, our prayers were answered. We were let in. We were able to care for her around the clock until she passed away on January 4th, 2021. It was a great ending to what had seemed to be a nightmare of a year.

God works in mysterious ways. We had experienced a true miracle with my mom, but our family was fractured. When Lent came just a month later, I knew I wasn’t done fasting and praying. In fact, I decided to form a community. After all, isn’t that what Lent is about? That year, I started my first coaching program with my sisters and women from my parish. I prayed and fasted like never before. I learned how to offer up my own comfort for the healing of my family.

For restoration.
For forgiveness.
For miracles.

It was the hardest, hungriest Lent of my life. Not just physical hunger—but emotional hunger. I became hungry for the comfort of sugar, the buttered bread, the glass of wine. But I was hungrier for peace in my family. Hungry for God.

Halfway through that Lent, I realized something life changing. Hunger creates space. A space that only God can fill. By staying in the desert with Him, by not running from discomfort, I was allowing Him to pour into me in a way I had never experienced before. And then, He healed me. He healed my family. He healed the division I had been praying over for so long.

I remember sitting in a darkened church during Holy Week, gazing at Jesus on the Cross. And in the silence, I felt Him invite me into His side wound.

To rest there.
To hide there.
To be filled.

A short while later, the speaker at a retreat spoke about how the Church was born from the side of Christ. I knew Jesus was calling me deeper—to the Sacraments and a life of fasting—and He wanted me to bring others with me. And so, Delay and Pray was born. A method of Spiritual Fasting that invites 100’s of women into community to delay and pray for bodily health, miracles, and to deepen their relationship with Jesus. It is a life of fasting and feasting.

That Easter morning of 2021 was glorious. Once again, our family was sitting in a physical church. With relationships resurrected and peace restored, it was truly a Feast Day. As Fr. Chad Ripperger says, “You must go through the mortification to get to the delight.” And I had. When I walked out of that Lenten tomb on Easter Sunday, I felt like I had risen with Him.

It was the best Easter of my life.

Lent is a time of healing and a time of forgiveness. It is a time to get hungry and be filled with so much more than food. Don’t miss it. Don’t waste another Lent doing the bare minimum. Step into the desert. It will change everything.

Editor’s Note: This author’s book, Delay and Pray, is available from TheCatholicFastingCoach.com.

Photo by Tim Wildsmith on Unsplash