By Pastor Ryan Stockstrom

Harvest Church

A new year has a way of stirring something in us. Many of us feel the pull—that quiet desire to go deeper, to live with more purpose, to connect more meaningfully. For many, that longing isn’t just about better habits or clearer goals. It’s spiritual. It’s the whisper of the soul saying, *There has to be more.*

I believe that desire is God-given.

One of the great kindnesses of God is that He doesn’t just invite us to connect with Him—He shows us how. 2 major tools to connect deeper with God are prayer and fasting.  They are not religious hoops to jump through, but rather tools to help us experience deeper connection with our Creator.

That distinction matters, because spiritual practices can quietly drift into performance. Prayer can become routine. Bible reading can become mechanical. Fasting can become a badge of discipline. And before we realize it, we’re trying to *earn* intimacy with God rather than enjoy it.

But connection with God has already been paid for.

No prayer you pray tomorrow will make God love you more than He does today. If you belong to Christ, God is already pleased with you. Because of Jesus, we can approach God’s throne of grace without fear.

That’s what prayer is for.

Jesus made this clear in Luke 18, where He told a series of stories about prayer. In one, a widow persistently brings her request to an unjust judge until he finally gives in. Jesus’ point is striking: if persistence works with an unjust judge, how much more will it matter with a loving Father? God is not annoyed by our prayers. He welcomes them.

In the next story, Jesus contrasts a proud religious man with a humble tax collector. One prays to impress; the other prays honestly. And it’s the honest one who goes home right with God. The lesson is simple and freeing: God is not impressed by polished words. He honors humility and truth.

Then Jesus points to children—unassuming, trusting, dependent—and says this is what the kingdom of God looks like. Children know where their provision comes from. They bring their whole selves, unfiltered, to those they trust. God invites us to do the same.

Scripture affirms this again in Romans 8, where the apostle Paul reminds us that we are not slaves living in fear, but sons and daughters who cry out, “Abba, Father.” God is not a distant authority figure. He is a Father who listens.

Jesus Himself modeled this kind of connection. Though fully divine, He regularly withdrew to pray. Mark tells us that very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus went to a solitary place to pray. If Jesus valued that time with the Father, how much more do we need it?

Prayer, at its core, is about relationship. That’s why Jesus taught His disciples not just *what* to pray, but *how* to pray. In what we often call the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus gives us a framework for connection.

He begins with worship—acknowledging God’s holiness—
“hallowed” be thy Name. That moment of reverence lifts our eyes from our problems to the One who is bigger than them. Then comes surrender: “Your kingdom come, your will be done.” It’s a reminder that life is ultimately God’s story, and when we align with His purposes, He faithfully meets us in ours.

Jesus then invites us to ask for daily provision. God is not offended by our needs. He encourages us to bring them honestly—finances, relationships, fears, decisions. And He makes room for confession and forgiveness, both receiving it and extending it. We can’t expect to receive forgiveness from our Father, if we’re not willing to give it.  I’ve heard it said wisely: “Bitterness is like drinking poison, hoping the other person dies.”  We can have freedom by asking God to give us the strength to walk in forgiveness.  

Finally, Jesus teaches us to pray ahead—asking God to lead us away from temptation and deliver us from evil. Prayer isn’t just reactive; it’s preventative. When we invite God into future moments, His peace often goes before us.

Prayer restores connection. Fasting strengthens it.

Fasting, though often overlooked, is a powerful biblical practice. It intentionally quiets the constant demands of our appetites—physical, emotional, and mental—so that our spirit can become more attentive to God. Whatever we feed thrives. Whatever we starve weakens. Fasting helps loosen the grip of distractions so we can hear God more clearly.

The early church practiced this regularly, and the Holy Spirit often spoke during times of prayer and fasting. It isn’t easy, but it is purposeful.

As we begin a new year, my hope is not that we become more religious, but more connected. God is not disappointed in you. He is not surprised by you. He is inviting you—again—to draw near.

And when we do, we often discover that He’s been right there all along.