Live the Golden Line – The Foundation Of A Spititual Life: Part 1

By Andre Eksteen

If you have not yet walked the path of the Golden Line with me, let me state it simply: everything begins with your relationship with God. Not with knowledge. Not with church. Not with what you think you know. Not with tradition. Not with your denomination. Not with your pastor, your spiritual leader, or your favourite speaker on YouTube. And certainly not with the emotions of your soul. Your entire life revolves around that one relationship — the relationship between you and God alone. Because without it, the Bible is only ink on paper, faith is just a nice idea without life, and worship is nothing but something that stirs the emotions of your soul.

I have heard hundreds of people say: “I believe in God.” And I believe they do — because your soul believes easily. But believing means nothing if it does not shift the control centre of your life from your soul to your spirit. The devils also believe — that is Biblical. The difference does not lie in knowledge, but in submission. The question is not whether you believe there is a God; the question is whether your spirit belongs to Him. And you cannot belong to Him if you are still trapped in your own soul that you cling to, because then you believe just like the devils.

This is where everything begins. Not with preaching, revelation, or deep insight. It begins with a simple, raw, and honest moment between you and God — when you realise you are filthy and He is pure; you are lost and He is your only hope. He is the Creator, and you are just a creature. You live because He decided you must breathe. It is not pretty language, but it is the truth.

People hear the word repent and think it is a soulish decision you make on a Sunday

morning when the pastor asks you to raise your hand. You feel guilty, you say “sorry”, and you think it is done. But that is only the emotion of your soul — not repentance.

Emotion was never what the Bible meant by repentance. Repentance is not a moment of feeling; it is the surrender of your entire being. It is not feeling sorry for your sin — it is dying to who you were.

Jesus’s soul literally flowed out of Him on the cross. His soul died, but His spirit is immortal. His spirit is what kept Him from running when He knew what was coming — it was His spirit that remained in control.

And this is where the modern church fails. The modern church preaches to the soul, not to the spirit. How many pastors tell you: “It’s in your heart… make a heart decision…”? Why do they say that? Because it sounds nice. It feels nice. It feeds the soul. People like it because the soul craves emotion, warmth, and feeling good. It is easy to get people to make a “heart decision” — because it asks nothing of them. It holds no one accountable. It confronts no one. It changes no one.

And then they sing the same kind of songs — songs full of “I” and “me” and “You make me strong” and “You give me peace” and “I feel Your presence.” Songs that sound like a romantic love letter: full of your feelings, your experience, your journey with Jesus.

Songs deliberately written to be repeated and repeated and repeated — the same line ten times, until your soul goes into a kind of emotional trance where the words no longer matter; only the feeling your soul feeds on. There is no content, no theology, no holiness of God, no fear for His Name — just a soft guitar, a raised bridge, and a feel-good chorus that makes you cry.

And people leave the service convinced they encountered God because they felt something — but nothing has changed. They only had another soulish experience. No spirit. No repentance. No surrender. No fear of the Lord. Only warmth. Only comfort. Only a pleasant feeling that fades before the parking lot is empty. And next Sunday they come back for another dose — because the soul is never satisfied. It is a bottomless pit that wants to be fed but never wants to be changed.

But the spirit? The spirit is pushed aside. Because true spiritual repentance is not popular. It does not bring tears for show and a warm feeling — it brings peace. Quiet, steady, unshakeable peace. And peace does not fill stadiums. Emotion does. That is why the modern church ministers to the soul, not the spirit. Because the soul gives quick results, quick reactions, quick “victories”. But the spirit brings truth — and truth is never popular.

The spirit also brings something else: separation. A personal relationship with God that does not rely on people. And this is dangerous for a congregation that depends on crowds, activities, and constant involvement. A person who lives by the spirit needs no one to hold his hand, to motivate him, or to keep him emotionally excited — he lives from God Himself. And that makes you independent of the system, something the system cannot afford. It makes you fearless to stand against the system, because God hates a system that binds people to habits, traditions, and human authority instead of leading them directly to Him. You are no longer of the world — you are only a stranger in it.

The Bible acknowledges emotion, but it never defines it as the Holy Spirit or as something “born from God’s Spirit.” Emotion is part of the soul — not the spirit. God created us with a soul. The soul contains your will, your thoughts, and your emotions, and yes — your human life.

And because it is human, it can react in any direction. You can be happy, sad, excited, or afraid — and all of that can happen without any work of the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit works in the spirit — not in the soul. The Bible speaks of:

• “in Spirit and in truth”
• “the fruit of the Spirit”
• “walk according to the Spirit”

But never of “when the Spirit touches your emotions”. On the contrary, the Word warns against the soul, because it is the battlefield where Satan establishes himself.

Jeremiah says: “The heart is deceitful above all things.” The heart he speaks of is not the pump in your chest that pushes blood through your veins — it is the soul. When the Bible speaks of the heart, it refers to the place where the soul dwells. And why?

Because the soul is in the blood. The Bible says it directly: “The life of the flesh is in the blood.” Your soul — your personality, your emotions, your will, your thoughts, your life

— literally sits in the blood that moves through your body. That is why the Bible calls the soul “the heart”: your heart pumps the blood, but the soul lives in the blood. As the blood moves, the soul moves.

And that is exactly why God forbade man to eat blood. Not because of diet, not

because of culture, but because the soul is in the blood. God says it clearly in Genesis and again in Leviticus: “For the life of the flesh is in the blood… you may eat no blood.” He protects the boundary between body and soul — between what is holy and what may not be consumed. Blood carries the soul — not just life — and therefore God set it apart.

This is exactly why Satan targets your soul — and cannot target your spirit. Your spirit belongs to God and God alone, but your soul is the battlefield. A spirit without God is a dead spirit, cut off from the soul since the fall in Eden. The soul is where doubt enters, where emotion traps you, where deception takes root. That is why Jeremiah warns against the heart — because the heart is not where the Holy Spirit works, but where the greatest battle takes place.

Understand this clearly: the war is in the blood — the soul.

In the Old Testament God used blood to cleanse the people, to cover sin, and to set them free. Every sacrifice, every lamb, every drop of blood pointed to something greater.

And in the grace period Jesus confirmed it finally: it is His blood (His soul) that not only covers you, but sets you free. And remember: Jesus did not only give His blood — He gave His soul, because His soul is in His blood. He could do this because His life was established in His spirit, not in His soul. There was no separation between His soul and His spirit as in man, where the fall brought the separation. His soul was in His blood, but His life was in the spirit. That is why He could lay down His soul without being destroyed. He willingly offered His soul, because His spirit remained one with the Father. And after His resurrection Jesus makes it clear what body was raised: “Behold, I am flesh and bone.” He does not say “flesh and blood”, because His blood — His soul

— He had already given. His resurrection body had no blood; His life was fully established in the spirit. He stands there as proof that the soul is in the blood, and that He laid His soul on the altar — but His spirit conquered death.

But after the grace period everything changes again. After the rapture, in the time of the Tribulation, there is no “safe route” like we experience now in the grace era. There is no altar, no lamb, no church-age grace as we know it. In that time blood is still the price — but this time it is the person’s own blood.

Revelation says it clearly: they will have to lay down their lives for their testimony. Those who refuse the mark of the Beast will pay with their blood. God deals with man then as in the Old Testament: without the blood of the Lamb, another’s blood must flow. The grace we now live in is then gone. Then the war over the blood becomes

literal again for the person — no Jesus to carry it on our behalf. Because in that time your own blood — your own soul — will be the price of your faith.

Look at David. He was not only a king or a poet — he was a man who truly fell for the desires of the soul. He committed adultery, lied, and had an innocent man killed to cover his own sin. If we had to judge him today, we would probably chase him out of the church. But God did not throw him away, because when the prophet Nathan confronted him, David did not fight — he broke.

He laid down his pride and acknowledged his sin — not only with words, but with his whole life. He threw away his crown, his status, his reputation — everything people thought of him — and fell before God. He did not try to justify or explain — he simply confessed. In tears he acknowledged: “Against You only have I sinned.” He did not even answer Nathan — he spoke directly to God. He did not try to save his name — he only wanted to restore the relationship. He laid everything bare — the dirt, the shame, the guilt — and left it there. He rejected his whole humanity, in other words his soul, because he stood in a spiritual relationship with God. Note carefully, he did not even speak to Nathan; everything that happened was a direct, personal reaction between him and God alone.

That is why God called him “a man after His own heart.” Not because he was perfect, but because he was honest. He understood that sin is not just a breaking of rules — it is betrayal of your own spirit and of God who loves you. It is not only breaking a law — it is handing the control of your life over to your soul and damaging your relationship with God.

Psalm 51 is his confession. He writes: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” He does not ask for forgiveness to feel better about himself — he asks for a new heart, a new soul, because he could no longer live with who he had become.

This is where most people today get stuck. They ask for forgiveness because they feel guilty, not because they were wrong. They seek rest for their conscience, not purity of their spirit. They want to quiet the pain of guilt, not remove the cause of sin. But David did not want to feel better — he wanted to be different. He did not ask for peace — he begged for total change. That is the difference between saying sorry and repenting: saying sorry brings relief, repentance brings renewal.

True remorse begins with honesty. And honesty before God is not easy honesty. It is

not that shallow: “Yes, Lord, I know I’m not perfect.” It is the kind of honesty that strips you to the bone. You cannot say “sorry” to God the way you do to a person — it does not work. He sees through your words. He knows your body, your soul, and your spirit. He knows what you feel, what you think, and even what you are going to think next. He knows when your tears are real, and when they are only guilt or a soulish experience.

He knows whether you truly break or are just trying to act so that you can soothe your soul and feel better about yourself.

It is when you stop pretending and stop trying to justify what is wrong. It is when you take off the mask and say: “It is me, Lord. I chose the evil, I cherished it, and I allowed it into my life. I did it. I grieved You.” It is raw honesty — nothing hidden, nothing defended. That is the place where repentance begins.

Many people can say sorry easily. But few people have true remorse. Think about it: how many human relationships have been destroyed because someone said sorry — not because they had remorse, but just to keep the peace? How many marriages, friendships, and families have broken apart because “sorry” meant nothing?

If it can be so empty between people, how much worse is it before God?

Remorse is not tears over the consequences — it is tears over the fact that you betrayed God. You do not cry because you were caught — you cry because you realise whom you have opposed. It is that raw pain of realisation that Paul describes as “a godly sorrow that leads to salvation.”

I have seen people cry over sin, but they never changed. They cry again and again over the same things, but they never take it to the cross. They cry, but they hold on. It is false remorse — an emotional outburst of the soul without repentance.

True remorse brings action. It is the moment when you not only say sorry, but get up and turn away. It is when you decide: I will not walk in that direction anymore, even if it costs me everything. The Greek word for “repent” literally means to change direction. You do not only stop where you are — you turn around and start moving in the opposite direction. That is why John the Baptist said: “Bring forth fruit worthy of repentance.” If there is no change, there was never repentance.

It is easy to say you believe, but the fruit of your life shows whether you have truly changed. And it is not about performance — it is about obedience. If you have

repented, you will not be perfect, but you will be different. You will no longer be comfortable in sin. You will no longer have peace in things God hates. Your conscience will begin to speak, and you will not be able to ignore it. You will confront people about their sin, and even break family ties if necessary — but you will not be able to associate with sin.

There are people who pray, read, sing, and go to church, but never repent. They have religion, not a relationship with God. They feel better about themselves because they are “involved”, but their souls remain unclean. They have tears without surrender, words without change. That is why Jesus said: “This people honour Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me.”

This is where many people get stuck — they try to be forgiven without wanting to change. They want forgiveness without forgiving others. They want peace without making war against the evil in their lives.

But you cannot have peace with God if you are still friends with the evil powers. You must choose.

Forgiveness is not difficult — but it is costly. It costs you everything your soul desires. You must be willing to let it go. And this is where most people stumble: they do not want to let go. They hold on to guilt, to shame, to habits, to people, to sinful comfort, to the evil spirits in their soul. They say they seek God, but they cling to the things that keep them from Him.

And God will not force you. He will wait. He will convince you, He will speak softly, He will stir your heart, but He will not manipulate you. Because He wants your heart — not your performance.

John says: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” But notice — it says: “if we confess.” Not: “if we explain” or “if we try to be better.” Confess means to acknowledge it aloud — to bring it before God without excuses. He already knows everything, but He waits for your honesty.

And note: He waits for you — not your pastor, not someone else to pray for you — for you.

There is a reason God gave you a voice. Not only so that He can hear it, but so that you can hear it. When you confess your sins aloud before God, something happens inside you that silent prayer never achieves. You hear yourself speak what you have done — your soul hears what it made you do — and those words cut through layers of pride, excuses, and self-righteousness. It cuts through your soul, and the evil flees in that moment.

It is when the reality of what you have done hits you.

God made you this way: your mouth is the door of your soul. And when you open it, healing can begin.

But there is more: when you confess, you accuse your own soul — before God, before the angels, before your soul, and before yourself. You acknowledge guilt in the presence of heaven, and you let hell hear that you no longer belong to it. You bring your sin into the light and declare that you stand on the side of truth. It is the moment when you no longer try to hide, but say yourself: “I am guilty — but I choose grace.” It is not humiliation — it is liberation. Because the day you bring your sin into the light, the enemy loses his right to use it against you.

And know this: that same voice with which you confess your sin carries authority in the spiritual world. You can drive out devils from your own soul with that voice — not through volume or drama, but through truth and authority in Christ. When you confess sin and declare in Jesus’ Name that that spirit has no place in you, it must leave. That is the power of a mouth that has become clean.

But be careful: if you drive them out and do not fill the empty space with God’s presence, they return — seven times stronger, seven times more destructive. That is what Jesus Himself said. The devil does not give up easily — he waits for open doors.

That is why repentance is not only about forgiveness, but about filling. You cannot simply remove the sin and leave the place empty. The human soul cannot remain empty

— something will always fill it. If you do not fill it with the Spirit of God, the enemy will take it again. You must fill the space with prayer, with the Word, with worship, with obedience. That is how you prevent what has left from ever coming back.

Sin loses its power the moment it is brought into the light. That is why the devil always makes you remain silent. He whispers: “Do not say it — it is too terrible — God will

reject you.” That is a lie. The only thing that keeps you from forgiveness is the spirit of pride. The cross is big enough for anything — except something you refuse to lay down.

And do not think repentance is a once-off thing. It is not something you did at your salvation prayer and finished. It is a lifestyle. Every day you must choose again to turn

• to walk away from what pulls you from God. You will sometimes fall, you will stumble
• but the difference lies in the fact that you do not stay there. You get up, you confess, and you keep walking.

God does not seek perfect people — He seeks honest people who stand in a personal relationship with Him. People who are willing to acknowledge when they are wrong, and who allow Him to change them. If you wait until you are “good enough”, you will never come to Him. You do not first become better and then come to God — you come to God, and He makes you better.

There is a part of forgiveness that people struggle to understand: you must receive it. You can pray, cry, confess — but if you do not believe that He has forgiven you, you still live as a prisoner. It is like walking out of a prison but still wearing the chains. Isaiah 1:18 says: “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” That is not a metaphor — it is a promise. God does not keep a record of your past. If you gave it to Him, it is gone.

It is often not God who reminds you of your past — it is the evil or your own soul you still cling to. They bring up your past because they know: if you believe you are still filthy, you will never live the freedom for which Christ has called you. But God says: “I will forgive their iniquity and remember their sin no more.”

It is finished.

Look at the prodigal son. He threw everything away — his inheritance, his name, his father’s honour. He ended up in a pigsty, far from home. But when he realised how deep he had fallen, he did not say: “I’m too far.” He said: “I will arise and go to my father.” He swallowed his pride, carried his shame, and walked back. And when his father saw him coming, he did not wait for the son to crawl — he ran.

That is how your Father is. He runs towards you even before you finish explaining. He does not seek your punishment — He seeks your restoration. He does not wait with a whip — He waits with a cloak. But you must get up. You must turn. You must go home.

Jesus has already taken the punishment for all your sins upon Himself, and His blood has washed it clean.

Many people say: “I do not feel that God has forgiven me.” But it is not your feeling that saves you — it is His promise. Your emotions come and go, but His Word remains. If you have confessed, if you have had remorse, if you have opened your heart, then He has forgiven you. Full stop. The only one who has not forgiven is you. And that is a greater stumbling block than most people realise. Because if you cannot forgive yourself, it is your soul that testifies against God, and then God cannot set you free. Not because He is unwilling, but because you refuse His forgiveness. You keep yourself bound to a guilt He has already removed.

That is why people get stuck for years — they pray for peace, but they do not believe the cross was enough. They hold on to guilt as if it is a form of punishment they deserve. But you cannot try to pay your own guilt and also receive God’s forgiveness — it is one or the other. You must choose to believe that “finished” means finished. The devil and your soul will try to keep you bound to guilt — but you can answer him with the same truth Jesus cried on the cross: “It is finished.”

There is something holy in that moment when you truly have remorse. It is not emotion for show. It is something that breaks deep inside you — the part that always tried to stay in control. It is the moment when you realise you can no longer save yourself — and you surrender. That is where grace enters. That is where the Holy Spirit begins to work.

And once you have reached that place, you must understand — it is not the end of your journey. It is the beginning. Repentance is not only turning away from sin — it is the first step in a new direction. It is the beginning of a path of obedience. From now on you learn to live with a heart that stays tender to God and hard against sin. You learn to walk in His voice.

That is why this series begins here. Because if you do not lay this foundation, nothing else matters. You may have knowledge of prophecy, end times, truth, and revelation, but if your heart is not right with God, it is all just noise. It is like trying to build without a foundation — it looks fine until the storm comes.

I do not know what you have tried before. I do not know how many times you have tried to be better and failed. But I know this: God does not seek your performance — He seeks your surrender. He is not waiting for you to be perfect — He is waiting for you to

be honest.

Perhaps you are reading these words now with a heavy heart. Perhaps you feel you are too far gone. You are not. If you can still feel, if you can still hear, if something still stirs inside you — then it is He who is knocking. It is your chance to open the door. Not tomorrow. Not someday when you feel better. Now.

But understand this well: if you continue hardening your heart against Him, if you persist in your lies before God, there will come a day when He gives you over to your sins. This is not my opinion — it is His Word. God is not mocked, no matter what any church or pastor tells you. There is a point where God simply says: “Let him go.” And when that happens, the Holy Spirit withdraws. It is not that God can no longer save you

— it is that you no longer want Him to. Your heart becomes cold, your eyes blind, your ears deaf. You feel nothing. No remorse, no guilt, no stirring — only emptiness. And that emptiness is the sign of damnation.

If you had reached that point, you would not be reading this now. The fact that you can still hear, still feel, still be aware — that is grace. It is God Himself still calling. He does not warn you because He is angry, but because He loves you and knows how little time is left.

Do not misuse His grace — it is not a game. Every time you hear His voice and ignore it, the silence inside you grows. And one day, if you continue, it stays silent. Forever.

You do not need fancy words. You do not even need to know what to say. Just begin here:

“Lord, I need You. I have messed up. I have done this and that — name your sins. I do not want to live like this anymore. Forgive me. Create in me a new heart. Change me.”

And He will.

Not all at once — but He will. Day by day.

Layer by layer.

Until you no longer look like the old person.

That is how you begin to live the Golden Line — not in great revelations, but in small moments of honesty, obedience, and change. That is where the Remnant begins to form — in people who stop playing, stop pretending, stop waiting, and simply say: “I am ready, Lord.”

If you are going to walk this path with me, you must know: it is not about being perfect. It is about being right with God. It is a daily path of confessing, forgiving, growing, and continuing. That is how you live as someone who has seen the Light.

It is time to live the Golden Line.

And everything begins here — with remorse, with honesty, with forgiveness. Not with religiosity, but with a new heart.

Because without this, everything remains just words.