LETTERS TO LINDA BUNTING
[GLORIOUS SCHOOL DAYS]
I think of you so often. I have not been in touch because I have not had much to say. These last few months have been a “quiet time” for me. Quiet in the sense that my mouth is shut while I listen to Jesus as He teaches me and renews my mind to all of the amazing things I have in him and he has in me. I have been falling in love and you know how new love is — completely captivating. And yet my emotions are more stable than they ever have been. He is so good.
I am also becoming accustomed to not being understood and that is teaching me a quiet, peaceful existence of just enjoying whatever I can wherever I am knowing that God is at work and I don’t have to convince anyone of anything. (People live in such a state of struggle that they have no clue they have freed from.) I can enjoy being me. And do I ever! God did make a fire-cracker vessel when he made me! He is so good.
I just wanted to let you know a little of what is going on here. I look forward to a time when I can sit at your feet. I see your face so often in my mind and I see Jesus in your eyes.
Please give my love and greetings to any of those around you who may have met me.
All my love,
It’s wonderful to hear from you. I think of you often . . .
I have the deepest respect for this period you are being sealed in the Spirit… Its priceless really… the building of your temple not made with hands...
It makes me think of one of my favorite chapters in a book by Walter Lanyon; which says; I once saw a so-called famous person in a crowd where no one recognized her as anything other than what she was, just a body dressed and painted in the custom of the day. She became a strange thing without her press agent and her publicity, and began shrinking away from the obvious comparison of herself as she appeared without the acclaim. Presently she became violently ill and had to be taken home. Anything, when not recognized, dies —- and the old inflated ego needed the wings of acclaim and praise to keep the balloon afloat. When the inflation was not there, the withered skin of the ego settled in against the form like the loose hide of an elephant. In reality there was nothing there. And so with the personality —- if it is not recognized, it dies.
I can see her now —- looking with wild eyes for recognition, The only thing she lived on... Was praise and acclaim. The fact that she could run through a whole book of poses meant nothing to anyone but herself, and it was nothing but illusion to her now. She was like a wandering Pleiades, looking for her sisters.
Eventually your old “darling” will be consumed —- no one will save it from the ravages of the flames of time and ignorance. To ignore it is to see it die.
The brightness of your coming will need no publicity agent or advertising campaign. You are self-announced, self-sustained, and self-expressed, because you have discovered that your body is the Temple of the Living God —- and you bear witness to just that and nothing more.
One is sometimes surprised in meeting a so-called celebrity. For some reason or another, we are always amazed that without the acclaim of the world they are just ordinary people, and sometimes not even that. We are disappointed that the character we have adored exists only in our minds. This imaginary thing which in reality is to there, comes to apparent life when the applause of the crowd is present and retires the moment it is not—like the dead grand-parents of the children in The Blue Bird they arose in their graves when the children were talking of them, and said, “We are never dead as long as you are thinking of us.” And so we see the chimera of life continue, fed by thought.
Knowing more of Him sometimes appears as less…
LETTERS TO LINDA BUNTING – Glorious School Days [Lisa] 1