When You’re the One Who’s Feeding Others, But You’ve Lost Your Appetite
There’s a quiet kind of emptiness that can settle in when you’re constantly feeding others.
Whether you’re pouring into ministry, showing up for your family, leading at work, or simply being a consistent source of strength in your circle, eventually, the hands that serve can begin to tremble with fatigue. And suddenly, you realise… you’ve lost your appetite.
Not just for food, but for the very things that once brought you joy and fulfilment.
You still show up. You still do the work. You might even still cook, post, pray, lead—but something’s missing. It feels subtle at first, and then it feels like everything.
The Disconnection Between Rhythm and Reality
For me, recent times haven’t looked like burnout. It looked like disinterest. Disengagement. Detachment.
It was skipping meals, not out of discipline, but out of disconnection. It was being in the sun and still not reaching for the light. It was looking at my salad and forgetting that I made it with joy. It was hearing a worship song and feeling… nothing.
And that’s when I realised: this isn’t just a physical appetite loss. It’s spiritual. Emotional. Rhythmic. It’s what happens when your body keeps performing, but your spirit stops responding.
The Myth of “Just Fast”
I used to hear people say, “Well, if you’re not eating, maybe just fast and seek God.”
But I’ve learned firsthand: fasting isn’t skipping meals with a holy label. Fasting requires grace. It’s an intentional exchange of appetite for intimacy, not a reaction to spiritual numbness.
A Better Prayer Than “Fix Me”
Instead of praying, “Fix me, Lord,” I’ve started praying:
“Lord, the thing that used to bring me joy and glorify Your name no longer stirs my soul—has the grace lifted, or have I simply not come to You to be filled again?”
There’s no shame in needing to ask for restoration. In fact, Scripture gives us the exact language for it:
“Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.”
— Psalm 51:12
I return to that verse often. Not as a promise of going back to how things used to be, but as an invitation to let God make things new. Sometimes the restoration is in returning. Other times, it’s in releasing.
Breath Prayer: A Gentle Return
In moments where words are too much, I turn to breath prayers. Here’s one that’s been guiding me lately:
Inhale: God’s mercy sustains me.
Exhale: Restore my hunger for wholeness.
This simple rhythm has grounded me. It doesn’t demand performance. It welcomes presence. It reminds me that God doesn’t need me to pretend I’m okay—He wants me present enough to be honest.
When the Giver Needs Grace
If you’ve been the one pouring out, feeding others, holding space, and suddenly you’re the one running on empty, you're not broken. You're not failing. You are being invited back into the mercy of God.
You haven’t lost your appetite overnight. It may have been a slow drift, unnoticed in the busyness of purpose. But now you’re here, and God is still near.
Let this be your prayer—not just for strength to serve again, but for the tenderness to be served by Him.
Journal Prompt for Reflection
What have I lost my appetite for lately?
What rhythms have become hollow routines?
Where is God inviting me to receive before I pour again
