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A full calendar can still leave the soul empty. In Why Prayer And Fasting, Pastor Tyler Lynde and Pastor Ebenezer Asiamah went straight at that tension and offered a deeply personal answer: God created us for fellowship with Him, not just belief about Him, and distraction might be the greatest threat to that relationship. Tyler began by returning to Jesus’ words in Matthew 6. Jesus repeatedly says, “when you pray” and “when you fast,” not “if.” That little word “when” matters because it reveals expectation, not mere suggestion. And the framing is freeing: prayer is not a performance and fasting is not for public display. Both are offered to “your Father who is in secret,” and it is the Father who sees in secret who promises to reward. Through that lens, prayer becomes an ongoing conversation with the God who already knows what we need before we ask.

Tyler was pastoral and practical about the texture of that conversation. Prayer, he reminded us, is two-way. Paul’s exhortation to “pray without ceasing” means cultivating an always-open line with God, not just emergency requests. He compared it to a family group chat—ongoing, interruptible, alive with back-and-forth life. He also quoted a definition we’ve been using as a church: prayer is an invitation into God’s heart and mission. In other words, prayer is not just how we bring our lists to God; it is how we are brought into His life, His desires, His ways. That is why Jesus steers us away from impressing others or babbling as if volume or vocabulary compels God. The Father’s reward is found in the secret place, where performance dies and fellowship grows.

From there, the message turned to fasting, not as an exotic add-on but as prayer’s God-given companion. Tyler offered a crisp definition from our slides: biblical fasting is voluntarily abstaining from food for a specified period of time for spiritual purposes. If we’re not praying, we’re not fasting—we’re dieting. In Scripture, fasting intensifies prayer. It is a targeted way to clear the fog and focus our loves. Jesus is our example. Led by the Spirit into the wilderness, He fasted forty days (Matthew 4). When tempted to turn stones into bread, He answered with Deuteronomy: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” As Tyler pointed out, the first Adam surrendered when temptation came through food; the second Adam did not. Jesus shows us that the Word of the Father sustains us more deeply than bread ever can.

At this point, Tyler welcomed Ebenezer to walk us through the spiritual benefits of fasting, and the heart of the message accelerated. Early in his time with us, Ebenezer sensed the Lord say, You don’t fast to get My attention; you fast to get your attention on Me. That single line reframed everything. The Father’s attention is fixed on His children; it is our fragmented attention that needs mending. So the first gift of fasting is focus and intimacy. When we set aside meals to seek God, we cultivate hunger for the One who alone satisfies. Scripture honors this desire: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” Daniel, who lived what Ebenezer called a “fasted life,” said it this way: “The people who know their God shall be strong, and carry out great exploits” (Daniel 11:32). As we direct our hunger toward God, He strengthens us to do His will. Psalm 42 gives voice to that ache: “As the deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for You, O God.” Fasting turns vague longing into devoted pursuit.

Second, fasting resets our affections. Ebenezer shared how God confronted him about misaligned loves and led him into a season of partial fasting. Job becomes a model here. Without a printed Bible, Job could still say, “I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food” (Job 23:12). That priority explains how Job could worship through crushing loss. When God’s word becomes more necessary than bread, lesser desires lose their grip. The Lord promises to meet those who “hold fast to Me in love” with protection, deliverance, and satisfaction (Psalm 91:14–16). Fasting, then, is not self-punishment; it is an honest, joyful way to reorder loves in a comfort-chasing culture so that God takes first place again.

Third, fasting humbles us and becomes a catalyst for revival and spiritual growth. “If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves and pray…” (2 Chronicles 7:14). In Scripture, that humbling often includes fasting. John the Baptist’s confession captures the posture: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Ebenezer reminded us that we can worship God with fasting, as Anna did in the temple. And when Nineveh heard God’s word, they fasted and repented, and God relented from disaster (Jonah 3). Importantly, fasting does not bend God’s will to ours; it bends our will to His. Revival begins where self-importance decreases and the fear of the Lord returns.

Fourth, fasting brings clarity, revelation, and direction. When decisions weigh heavily—relationships, moves, callings—fasting aligns our ears to God’s voice. Ebenezer shared how, while fasting in Ghana and praying for a prudent wife, the Lord redirected him first to ask for wisdom to live with a prudent wife, and later led him step by step into marriage and across continents. Acts 9 offers a vivid biblical picture: Saul fasted and prayed three days after encountering Jesus, and God spoke both to Saul and to Ananias with matching instructions. When attention is fixed on God, direction becomes discernible. As a church, we tasted this last year while seeking the Lord for a place to gather; He provided in His timing.

Fifth, fasting equips us for hard journeys. Ezra proclaimed a fast by the river Ahava before leading people and children on a dangerous road, asking God for protection (Ezra 8:21–23). Ebenezer noted that Ahava means “I shall subsist” or “I shall be taken care of.” That is exactly what fasting confesses: we subsist by the Father’s hand. Fasting humbles our flesh—it feels like weakness—and yet God’s strength is made perfect there (2 Corinthians 12:9). The Most High dwells with the lowly and contrite to revive them (Isaiah 57:15). Ebenezer testified to a season when closed doors made a crucial visa seem impossible. Through prolonged fasting the Lord pointed him to an unexpected open appointment in a different country. God not only carried him; He choreographed the path.

Sixth, fasting can be used by God to change circumstances—or to change us for unchanged circumstances. David fasted for seven days for his sick child and then, when the child died, rose to worship and returned to ordinary nourishment with a steadied heart. Fasting positioned him to trust God whatever the outcome. Sometimes, though, God does shake the world. Esther called a three-day fast, and her people were spared. Hannah refused to eat at Shiloh, poured out her soul, and Samuel was born. When three enemy armies besieged Judah, Jehoshaphat called a fast; the worshipers led the way and God fought the battle (2 Chronicles 20). Fasting does not manipulate God; it makes room for His wisdom, mercy, and power.

Finally, fasting joins prayer to confront spiritual oppression. Jesus told His disciples, after a difficult deliverance, “This kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting” (Mark 9:29). Ebenezer linked this to Daniel’s three-week fast and the angelic breakthrough it precipitated (Daniel 10), and then drew our attention to Moses, Elijah, and Jesus—each marked by forty-day fasts in unique moments of covenant history. We are not to imitate those lengths without God’s leading, but we can learn the principle: Jesus entered the wilderness full of the Spirit and returned in the power of the Spirit. There is a difference between having the Spirit and the Spirit having us. In a day when anxiety, depression, addiction, and persistent resistance weigh on many, seasons of prayer and fasting can become doors to freedom. Whom the Son sets free is free indeed.

Tyler closed with practical help for our 21-day season. We will launch with a consecration gathering, then meet on successive evenings to pray with focus—for salvation, for marriages and families (including those longing to be married), and for healing and spiritual awakening. Each Sunday we’ll linger after service for corporate prayer, and on Wednesdays we’ll gather again to seek life transformation and to intercede for missions. We’ll finish with a Good Friday solemn assembly and then rise into Resurrection Sunday with fresh praise. Throughout, each of us is encouraged to choose a sacrificial fast, write down what we are seeking God for, and schedule times with Him during the meals we are laying down. Some may undertake a liquid fast for a stretch, others a single simple meal per day, others a Daniel-type fast. Those with medical concerns should use wisdom and counsel. The goal is not to prove toughness but to give God meaningful space. Avoid the trap of making the one meal a day a feast. This is not legalism, but it is serious. Also consider laying down social media, constant news, or YouTube—noise that numbs rather than nourishes—but remember that biblical fasting involves food in some measure.

Two final heart-shifts will make the most difference. First, don’t treat the days before the fast like a cruise ship. Taper in rather than gorge; the body and heart will thank you. Second, keep the secret-place spirit central. Jesus’ command is clear: anoint your head, wash your face, avoid spiritual theatrics. The Father sees in secret and rewards those who seek Him. Throughout, Tyler kept drawing us back to the point: prayer and fasting are not ways to take control of outcomes; they are ways to come under God’s will with joy, humility, and expectancy. We do not fast to get God’s attention; we fast to get our attention on God.

As the service ended, we carried that posture outward, praying for persecuted brothers and sisters—especially in places like Iran—and for the protection of service members engaged in global conflict. That intercession was not a detour from the message; it was its fruit. Prayer and fasting re-center us on the Father’s heart and the Son’s mission in the power of the Spirit. Over these 21 days, may our calendars thin, our appetites recalibrate, our ears sharpen, and our courage rise. Not to impress heaven, but to join the One who loves us first, knows our needs, and rewards those who seek Him in secret.