I Chose to Fast for 5 Days: A Journey of Healing and Surrender

I never imagined I’d willingly go five days without food. Prolonged fasting was something I had heard about, but it always seemed extreme. For most of my life, I had negative feelings toward it—I even swore I’d never do it. Based on my research, fasting seemed harmful, especially for women in their childbearing years. What a journey it has been to go from that mindset to embracing a five-day fast.

Losing my daughter in pregnancy changed everything. Grief, healing, and searching for peace became part of my daily life. As I navigated this season, I felt a deep pull toward fasting—not as a quick fix or a challenge, but as a way to reset, reflect, and reconnect.

In this post, I’ll share why I chose to fast for five days, and the lessons I took away from it.

A Deeply Personal Decision

“What are you hoping to get out of this?”

It was a question I was asked more than once, and I loved that it made me look inward. If I was going to go without food for five days, I needed a reason that ran deeper than curiosity. A few people voiced concerns about fasting so soon after my miscarriage, but I felt drawn to it more than ever. I listened to my body, I prayed about it, and I felt strong. So I planned, and I went for it.

Fasting isn’t just about going without food—it’s a reset for the whole body. Physically, it gives the digestive system a break, allowing the body to focus on deep healing, cellular repair, and reducing inflammation. Autophagy is the body’s natural process of cellular cleansing and regeneration. After 3 day’s in a fasted state, your body begins breaking down old, damaged cells and recycling their components for energy. This process helps reduce inflammation, improve immune function, and may even slow down aging. Autophagy has also been linked to better brain health, enhanced metabolic function, and the potential to fight off disease. While fasting isn’t a magic bullet, putting your body into autophagy can be a powerful tool for overall health and longevity. Many people pay thousands of dollars for their stem cell treatments, not knowing their body will produce its own. You just have to go 4-5 days without food.

Mentally, fasting can bring clarity, helping to quiet the noise of daily life and sharpen focus. Spiritually, fasting creates space for reflection, prayer, and emotional processing. In a world that constantly pushes us to consume—whether it’s food, information, or distractions—fasting offers a rare opportunity to slow down, listen to our bodies, and reset from the inside out.

The benefits are truly endless. But when I had to summarize what I was hoping to gain, a visual came to mind—a giant red button labeled “Complete Reset: Mentally, Physically, and Spiritually.” And the only thing standing between me and that reset, was five days of fasting.

Extreme or Necessary?

Some might say fasting for five days is extreme. But grief, loss, and surrender have taught me that sometimes we are called to do things that feel radical.

January 26th—the day I found out my daughter’s heart had stopped beating—was a reset I never wanted. Mentally, spiritually, and physically, I became a different person in an instant. Losing a baby changes you. If you’ve experienced it, you know. I had a miscarriage early on, at six weeks, in 2023, but this was different. This time, I held my daughter’s tiny body in my hands. I counted her ten perfect fingers, just my husband and me, alone in the bathroom, in the middle of the night. The next day, we placed her in the ground. I had to rework every dream I had dreamt up for our family, in the short 12 weeks I carried her.

Grief changed me. In many ways, I love the transformation it brought to my spiritual life and my relationships. But mentally, I was struggling. I have battled anxiousness, nightmares, and intrusive thoughts since losing her. My head is cloudy, the noise feels loud. I longed for the mental clarity and peace that people described after prolonged fasts. More than ever, I wanted to experience that.

A Shift in Perspective on Fasting

For years, I actively spoke against fasting. I believed it was harmful, especially for women in their reproductive years. So what changed?

God.

When I face a controversial health topic, I always ask myself how it aligns with God’s design. I was once convinced that grains, dairy, and sugar were inherently bad. It worked for a few years. Then I looked deeper—God created these foods for nourishment, but modern processing has distorted them. My question became, how can I consume these foods, as closely to the way God intended? My goal is to bring everything in my life as close to God’s design for it, as I can. The same was true for fasting.

There are countless biblical examples of fasting, all in a positive light. David fasted in mourning, Esther fasted before approaching the king, Paul fasted after his conversion, Jesus fasted for 40 days before beginning His ministry. God speaks of fasting as a tool for spiritual growth. How could something so deeply ingrained in biblical history be inherently harmful?

That realization shifted everything for me. I still believe fasting isn’t for every situation, but I no longer see it as something to fear, rather something to embrace.

A Journey of Trust and Letting Go

I have always believed—and will continue to preach—that the mind is the foundation of health. If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know this. So whether or not this fast brought me physical benefits, I was committed.

Of course, I would love to heal my thyroid, shed 20 pounds, reset my gut, and more. But this fast was never about a quick fix. If I could recenter my mind, quiet the noise, and spiritually align my heart with God’s plan, I knew my health would follow.

For the past year and a half, I’ve walked a fine line between taking ownership of my health and trying to control it entirely. Losing our first baby and being diagnosed with Hashimoto’s—both in the same weekend—sent me on a relentless mission to heal myself. I spiraled. I became consumed with my health, scrutinizing every choice I made, convinced that if I just worked hard enough, I could fix everything. And while taking charge of my well-being was important, my second loss made one thing painfully clear—I was never truly in control.

For an entire year after my first loss, I worked tirelessly with holistic practitioners to heal. It sent me into overdrive, clinging to the belief that if I just got healthy enough, I could carry a perfect child full-term and ensure everything went right. I believed I had “fixed” things and was finally in a good place, so in late 2024, we tried to conceive again. It took 3 months to conceive, and we were over the moon.

I gripped tightly to the idea that if I did everything right, I could control the outcome. But my second loss reminded me that was only an illusion. A false sense of control. The day I delivered my lifeless daughter, just an inch long, was the day that false sense of control was ripped away.

In many ways, this fast was my way of surrendering. Letting go. A declaration that I trust God more than I trust my own plans. I needed to clear my head, refocus on what truly matters, and reset my mind. And from that place of surrender, I pray that my body will heal, my faith will deepen, and one day, I will carry another healthy child.

Would I Do It Again?

I’m writing this as I sip my first cup of bone broth. I didn’t make it the full 120 hours—I stopped at 84 hours. You could argue I still haven’t consumed solids, sure. I may still be in a “fasted state.” But mentally, I am done fasting. And I will likely eat something small in the morning, before the 120 hour mark. Some might call that a failure, but I call it a wild success.

I went into this fast knowing it was very soon after my miscarriage. I planned it around my cycle and told myself I’d listen to my body. If at any point I felt unwell or uneasy with continuing, I would stop.

At 84 hours, I felt weak and dizzy, my hunger intensified, I struggled to sleep, and my blood sugar dropped to 65. I monitored it closely, but my body was telling me it was done, mentally at this point I knew I was done. I had a choice: push through for the sake of saying I did it, or honor what my body was asking for.

I chose to listen.

I can be incredibly stubborn, often ignoring my body’s signals in the name of perseverance or proving a point. But that mindset—rooted in pride—hasn’t served me well. I have no doubt it played a role in pushing me toward an autoimmune state. I’m letting go of that mentality. Rest isn’t something to earn, and listening to your body is never a sign of weakness. Intuition is a God-given gift—honor it, don’t squash it.

In so many words, ending early, and being at peace with it, felt like more of a success than pushing through.

Did it work?

In so many more words, yes.

I feel physically cleansed. My anxiety vanished. I had no nightmares for the first time in weeks. More importantly, I feel focused, clear-headed, and closer to God. I truly feel like I hit the reset button.

Maybe it’s a placebo. Maybe it’s all in my head. Did it benefit me physically? Time will tell. However, I believe fasting is always beneficial, in some way or another. Above all else, it cleared my mind. The mind is powerful, and I firmly believe that when we reset our mental and spiritual state, our physical health follows.

Fasting as a God-Given Tool

Fasting is a powerful, God-designed way to heal, reset, and realign. For most of human history, fasting wasn’t optional—it was a normal part of life. Only in modern times have we adopted the habit of constant eating, leading to widespread health issues. Science now confirms what was once instinctive—fasting promotes deep cellular repair, reduces inflammation, cleanses the body of unwanted organisms, and enhances mental clarity.

It’s no surprise that so many ailments today could be improved or even reversed by embracing this God-given rhythm of fasting.

Final Thoughts

I’d love to hear from you—have you ever fasted? What has helped you find balance in seasons of struggle?

And if you’re considering fasting, always consult with a health professional and, more importantly, seek God’s guidance. Fasting isn’t just about the body—it’s about the heart.

*I am not a doctor and this is not medical advice. Just my personal experience.