Edition #1: Lift Up the Gates: Walking in Spirit and Truth
It’s 5 a.m., and once again, I find myself awake. What once felt like restlessness has now become the new normal. For months, sleep evaded me, my body weighed down by exhaustion—exhaustion rooted not just in lack of rest, but in a cloud of heaviness I carried through seasons of prolonged loss and mourning, giving into vices that only numbed the pain and unhealthy patterns, and distraction. Yet strangely, here I am: awake and energized. Awake in both body and spirit.
This awakening has shifted something deep in me. Psalm 34 reminds us, “I sought the Lord and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.” As I reflected on these words, it became clear how often fear had been the undercurrent of my anxiety. Psychology names it; Scripture confirms it. Fear and anxiety are tangled together—and when fear sets the rhythm of our lives, it perpetuates cycles that keep us bound.
But here’s the heart of it: walking in Spirit and Truth.
Psalm 24 declares, “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place? The one who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not trust in an idol or swear by a false god.” (vv. 3–4). Walking in truth begins with acknowledging my own reality. Before I can grasp God’s truth, I must first see the truth of my circumstance: the addictive and unhealthy behaviors, the generational patterns of dysfunction, the years of perpetual trauma—at home, at work, in relationships and so on... This acknowledgment is not about condemnation, but about recognition. If I can’t name what is broken, I can’t invite God to cleanse my hands and purify my heart.
This kind of truth is uncomfortable. It presses against what is familiar and exposes what we’d rather avoid. Yet it is in those very moments of discomfort that God often whispers: “This is where I’m calling you to be set apart.” For me, that has meant separating from habits, environments, and even ways of thinking that unknowingly shaped me for years. It is costly and uncomfortable, but it is also where transformation begins. There, the Spirit meets me.
Scripture reminds us the Holy Spirit is our Counselor, our Helper, our Guide. But He does not float untethered from truth—He grounds us in the Word. The Word of God is the sword, cutting through lies and distortions to reveal what is right, what is holy, what is real. To walk in Spirit without truth is to risk floating into illusion. To walk in truth without Spirit is to risk a lifeless checklist. But when Spirit and Truth meet, transformation happens.
When Spirit and Truth meet, our spiritual gates lift. Psalm 24 continues: “Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” (v. 7). The gates of our hearts, long locked by fear, shame, or unbelief, are swung wide open. The King of Glory—strong and mighty in battle—enters, bringing freedom. This is the picture of surrender: opening what has long been closed, and letting God’s presence take its rightful place within us.
It’s in this posture of surrender that the words of Jesus in John 12 take on new weight: “I will not judge those who hear me but do not obey me, for I have come to save the world and not to judge it.” (v. 47). For years, I lived under self-condemnation, confusing conviction with shame. But here, Jesus Himself clarifies: His mission is not judgment but rescue. The rejection of truth carries consequences, yes, but His posture toward us is salvation.
That means the invitation is not to perfection but to surrender. And surrender is not passive—it is an active and at times constant release of control. For me, surrender has looked like placing the outcome of my family’s choices, my friends’ journeys, and what sometimes felt like the weight of the world— into God’s hands. Their lives are not mine to control. My responsibility is obedience to truth and trust in God’s Spirit to do the work in them and in me. This is freedom. “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” (2 Cor. 3:17).
But freedom requires our yes. It begins with acknowledgment, continues with surrender, and grows through trust. It is not about mustering enough willpower or determination—those run out. Our will is never enough. Only Christ sustains us.
Psalm 24 gives us the pattern: acknowledge truth (clean hands, pure hearts), release false idols (surrender), and lift up the gates (welcome the King of Glory). This is the rhythm of walking in Spirit and Truth.
This matters not just for our personal journey—but for our world. We live in a culture of reaction, quick triggers, and unprocessed feelings. Much of this, I believe, stems from an inability to name our own truth, acknowledge our pain, and invite God’s healing. I know this because I lived it. I grew up in a family culture where emotional and spiritual blinders were common—where generations learned to sweep truth under the rug and present life as spotless. Yet Scripture reminds us that the choices of one generation can ripple into the next (Exodus 34:7). Those unspoken patterns didn’t stay hidden; I found myself carrying them into adulthood until God began breaking their hold. But Jesus offers a different way. He calls us to Himself as Truth. He redefines our identity, not by family chaos, cultural systems, or even our own past definitions, but by who He says we are. And who does He say we are? Beloved. Redeemed. Set apart. Children of God.
So here is the choice before us: we can continue in cycles of fear and rejection of truth, or we can surrender to the freedom of Spirit and Truth. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). To walk with Him is to walk in Spirit. To receive Him is to embrace Truth. It can feel uncomfortable. It will stretch you. You may even feel called to journey into the unknown—apart from what you’ve always known. But it will lead to life, freedom, and transformation.
The walk begins with yes. A yes to truth—both the hard truth about where we are and the eternal Truth of who Christ is. A yes to Spirit—allowing His presence to cleanse, guide, and empower. And in that yes, Spirit and Truth weave together, and the gates lift wide for the King of Glory to enter.
“Lift up your heads, you gates; lift them up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” (Psalm 24:9).
This is the invitation—to open wide the gates of our hearts, to welcome the King of Glory, and to walk in the freedom only He can bring. Spirit and Truth are not abstract ideas—they are the living presence of Jesus with us. He is strong in battle, mighty to save, and faithful to finish the work He has started in us (Philippians 1:6). And as we walk in Spirit and Truth, we are no longer defined by fear, exhaustion, or broken patterns. We are defined by the King of Glory who has entered in.