My husband led our family into five days of fasting, initially intending on ten — mirroring the testing period Daniel and his friends underwent in chapter 1, where their diet proved sufficient.

But sitting more deeply with that passage now, having walked through even a portion of it myself, I see something with greater clarity:

It definitely wasn’t the food.

It was GOD the whole time.

I knew that before.

Now I know it in a way that has been lived.

Because God didn’t just sustain Daniel and his friends so they could survive a dietary restriction — He sustained them so they could thrive, preparing them to be used for His glory before not just one king, but multiple kings and generations.

And what has become unmistakably clear to me is this:

Their usefulness had nothing to do with fasting.

It had everything to do with obedience.

Everything to do with resolve.

Everything to do with honoring God long before anyone was watching.

These five days have been incredibly revealing.

Not just spiritually — but personally.

Following my husband’s leadership required a deeper level of surrender than I anticipated. Agreeing to something when you believe it will stretch ten days is one thing… continuing with a steady heart when it is already hard by day two is another.

Scripture calls me to trust the leadership God has placed in my home, and I do — not because it is always comfortable, but because it is right.

Submission is not weakness.

It is alignment.

Early on, I could feel resentment trying to creep in. I could feel how easy it would have been to blame Shaun for leading us into something that was incredibly hard for me — especially as someone who is not a vegetable lover and firmly believes fruit belongs as a snack or dessert, not a meal.

But I was not going to allow discomfort to produce dishonor.

So I made decisions — sometimes moment by moment — to walk this out rightly.

I didn’t do it perfectly in the beginning.

But I learned quickly that being “hangry” is never an excuse for being unkind.

And somewhere in these days, something shifted:

Prayer stopped being something I carved time out for…

and started becoming my reflex.

When hunger hit — I prayed.

When frustration surfaced — I prayed.

When my strength felt low — I prayed.

The noise quieted.

My focus sharpened.

My gratitude deepened.

My reverence for the Lord grew.

Fasting has a way of exposing what you didn’t realize you leaned on… and reminding you Who actually sustains you.

God accomplished more in these five days than I could have measured beforehand, and Shaun has decided to lead us out of the fast. I trust his leadership in that fully.

Some may feel disappointed we didn’t continue to ten days, but I can assure you:

I have already learned ten days worth of lessons — and those lessons are not ending just because the fast has.

We are still processing.

Still learning.

Still having meaningful conversations with our family and others about what the Lord revealed.

And if I’m being completely honest…

I haven’t reached for a steak, yet….

Bread hasn’t called my name.

Chips remain untouched.

I haven’t even chased down a chicken nugget.

Apparently the Lord was doing more than adjusting my diet — He was recalibrating my heart.

I also learned something about my relationship with food… and about discipline… and about drowning out the noise so I could hear Him more clearly.

This journey stretched me.

It refined me.

It reminded me that God is faithful to sustain what He calls us to walk through.

And for those wondering about Shaun after leading his non-veggie-loving wife into a fast…

He’s still alive.

People have seen him today.

Wink. 😉

But truly — the greatest thing revealed in these five days was not my endurance.

It was God’s sustaining presence.

Five days may not sound significant to some.

But when the Lord is at work, transformation is never measured by a number.

It is measured by obedience.

And I know without question:

God was in it the whole time.