From Fasting to Focus: What the Daniel Fast Taught Me About Leadership and Growth

I thought I was ready for the Daniel Fast—spiritually armed and prepped to conquer. No animal products? Easy. No processed foods? A mild inconvenience (only because of my potato chip habit). No soothing oat milk decaf with honey? Brutal. 

But the real challenge wasn’t my stomach—it was my spirit.

Fasting stripped away the usual comforts that made life feel manageable, leaving me face-to-face with my thoughts, hopes and doubts. With no favorite cinnamon gum to chew through the tension (a very real loss, I promise), I had to sit with discomfort—raw and unfiltered. It was humbling, frustrating, and exactly what I needed. Because growth, whether spiritual or professional, doesn’t come from soothing discomfort. It comes from leaning into it. (Yes, I know this is giving self-help book energy, but stick with me—I promise I’m going somewhere.)

Why I Decided to Fast (and No, It Wasn’t for the Superfoods )

While fasting is often viewed as a healthy practice, it has also been historically used across various settings to clear the mind and elevate perspective. With that, I began the Daniel Fast for three reasons:

1. Because God is holy and worthy of my reverence. Over the past year, I’ve committed my mornings to deepening my Bible study and truly sitting in His presence. After all, if anyone is awesome, it’s God, right? I didn’t just want to say it—I wanted to show it.
2. I want to become more sensitive to God’s voice. Life gets loud. Between email notifications and endless tasks, it’s easy to mistake busyness for purpose. I craved clarity—not just for my business, but also for my spirit.
3. To strengthen my discipline and sharpen my leadership. For me, leadership isn’t just about strategy or vision; it’s about spiritual stamina. If I could lead myself well through 21 days of sacrifice and focus, I’d be better equipped to lead others with integrity.

The Cravings That Take You Back

Before I get into the deep stuff, here’s the weird thing about fasting: it doesn’t just test your discipline—it also messes with your cravings. Foods I hadn’t eaten in years suddenly took center stage in my mind. Top Ramen? I haven’t touched the stuff since college. Flaming Hot Cheetos? Haven’t craved those flames since… well, ok, like 2023, but still. Yet there they were, living rent-free in my head like long-lost friends I didn’t know I missed.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? The fast wasn’t just stripping away my physical comforts; it was resurfacing old habits, old comforts, and even old versions of me. Apparently, fasting is as much about dueling with your spirit as it is with your old snack game.

So brace yourselves, my peeps. Here is my journey, yes, but more a mini-guide for anyone considering their own fast—what it reveals emotionally, mentally, and even in leadership—when you’re surviving on veggies, prayer, and the nostalgia of snacks you thought you’d left behind.

Lessons in Leadership (via Fasting and Ramen Cravings)

Aside from a sudden obsession with sodium, here’s what surprised me most: those 21 days taught me more about leadership, focus, and staying true to my mission than any conference, podcast, or business book ever could.

1. Stay Steady When It’s Hard (and New and Overwhelming)

Pro Tip: Caffeine withdrawal won’t kill you—but it might make you rethink all your life choices.

Just before the fast, I was deep into finalizing key milestones for my business—revamping my offerings, setting the direction for 2025, and asking myself if this whole vision still aligned with God’s will.  

Truthfully, I already knew the answer: yes. Duh. God had given me this assignment before I ever started building. But when things got overwhelming and the self-doubt kicked in, I started questioning everything.

Dr. Thando Sibanda, a neuroscience-based leadership coach, explains that wisdom isn’t found in knowledge alone, but in revelation. It doesn’t happen in our comfort zones but in the moments of seeking and stretching. To me, what that means is leadership requires both steadiness in motion and stillness in spirit.

The fast showed me that just like being a leader, it means showing up when the path is unclear, when obstacles stack up, when progress feels invisible. It also means managing your emotions, your energy, and your decisions under pressure. In essence, it’s moving forward even when it’s unfamiliar or riddled with ramen cravings and your to-do list laughing at you.

2. Wrestling with God—and Leadership—Is Part of the Process

Pro Tip: Struggle doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re leading.

I went into the fast expecting spiritual VIP treatment—like clear, audible guidance from God at every turn. Instead, I got a whole lot of silence, some subtle nudges, and a very pointed message about patience.

At one point, I felt so sure about a direction—only to have a ‘random’ event completely throw me off. My first reaction? Frustration. How could I go from certain to confused so fast? Was I mishearing God? Was He messing with me?

It reminded me of Jacob in the Bible—my guy literally wrestled with God. And God let him. Not because He had to, but because there was something in that fight Jacob needed.

That hit me. Maybe faith wasn’t just about trusting the outcome—it was about daring to wrestle, to push back, to stay in the tension instead of shutting down.

…sort of like leadership.

The strongest leaders aren’t the ones who never question themselves—they’re the ones who engage with the struggle instead of avoiding it.

Wrestling with God felt uncomfortable, but it forced me to stay in the conversation, exactly what leadership requires. Staying engaged. Making the unplanned pivots. Navigating complexity with the willingness to grapple through it.

God isn’t afraid of the struggle. He invites it. And if wrestling with faith makes faith stronger, then maybe wrestling with leadership decisions does the same.

3. Let Go of Clarity. Lead With Trust.

Pro Tip: If I waited for clarity, I’d still be stuck on square one. Move first. Clarity follows action.

When a man once asked Mother Teresa to pray for him to have clarity, she refused. “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” When he commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, “I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust.”

I get that. That man’s desire for clarity? Same. It’s easy to believe that if we just had more certainty, we’d make better decisions, lead better, and get it “right.”

Leaders are expected to have the answers. To make the right calls. To always know what’s next. But if I examine my own journey into entrepreneurship, for example, it wasn’t answers or perfect decisions that got me here. Leadership isn’t about certainty—it’s about conviction. Strong leaders trust their values, their experience, and the process itself, even when the next step isn’t obvious.

Letting go of the belief that clarity guarantees success didn’t come easily for me. But that was only because I realized that what I was after wasn’t clarity—it was control. Control = security, right? But if I am clinging to control, where am I really leading from: purpose or fear?

That’s what the fast reminded me. I didn’t need absolutes. I needed trust.

• Trust that mission matters more than metrics.
• Trust that the right opportunities will come, even when the timeline feels unclear.
• Trust that real leadership isn’t about always being right—it’s about being resilient.

At the end of the day, the best leaders—the ones who truly shape industries, teams, and lives—aren’t the ones with a flawless five-year plan or all the answers. They’re the ones who keep going, even when they don’t.

The Real Takeaway

So why am I sharing this? Because whether you’re fasting, leading, or just trying to get unstuck, I’ve learned that discomfort is where the magic happens. It’s where we grow, stretch, and learn to trust God and ourselves in a deeper way. And if you’re in a season where you’re feeling stagnant, overwhelmed, or disconnected, maybe it’s time to try a reset—not just for your body, but for your spirit. Because sometimes the breakthrough you’re praying for isn’t for God to move mountains. It’s for Him to move you.

A note from Erin: If these ideas or perspectives resonate with you, I’d love for you to subscribe or share them with someone you care about. If you’re looking to make a change or when the time feels right, I’m here to help. Check out my new “WORK WITH ME” page to explore how we can collaborate—or swing by my “CONTACT” page to say hello, ask a question, or start a conversation.