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99 pages

English

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This is a book about becoming. It is about embracing our inadequacies, letting go of false securities, turning wounds to wisdom and finding ourselves in the process. It is a book about epiphanies and ah-ha moments when our souls are transformed and everything becomes new again. Sometimes the profound complexities of life and the crucible of trauma and loss can jump-start our spiritual formation so that things like character, authenticity and integrity become more important to us than ever before. It often happens when we are sent to a land of brokenness and in that lonely place, our eyes are mysteriously opened and wonders are revealed…

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Publié par	Outskirts Press
Date de parution	11 avril 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781977220691
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

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Milky Ways and Fireflies words of wonder for tattered souls All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2023 K. William Kautz v2.0
The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Outskirts Press, Inc. http://www.outskirtspress.com
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-9772-2069-1
Cover Design by K. William Kautz Cover Photography © 2023 Simanta V. Mahanta. All rights reserved - used with permission.
Outskirts Press and the "OP" logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Table of Contents
Foreword

PART ONE - The Intersection of Pain and Purpose
1. Crawling through the Breaches
2. Milky Ways and Fireflies
3. The Cradle of Art and Science
4. The Lenses of our Lives
5. Nathaniel
6. Still Standing
7. The Sacrament of Grief
8. Every Square Inch
9. Live Everything
10. Maligne Lake
11. Liquid Love and Loneliness

PART TWO - Graceland
12. Love Beneath the Veil
13. Someone I Love
14. Facing the Deep
15. Courage
16. Wearing Masks
17. The Splendor of our Inadequacies
18. Dying to Live

PART THREE - Betrayals and Other Blessings
19. Surviving the Flying Monkeys
20. The Ugly Silence
21. Their Finest Hour
22. Love Letter to a Scapegoat
23. The Intifada of the Soul
24. Forgiven
25. Epiphanies
26. Finding Home

PART FOUR - Life After Loss
27. Awakening
28. Penniless Wealth and Perilous Joy
29. Treasures
30. Consider the Birds
31. Beautiful
32. Beacons in a Darkened Space
33. Mars Hill Revisited
34. Keeping Vigil
35. The Rude Vigor of Truth
36. Shaking the Dust
37. Unseen Things
38. Grace and Power
39. Making Joy
40. Rising from the Dead
Foreword
This book began as a series of small essays posted on social media. After the deaths of two of my children, I began to think and write about those fears and passions we all have in common - no matter what our backgrounds. When one of my posts went viral, I suddenly had a large audience of people from far away places. There was one response that I kept receiving from my readers. They would tell me how inadequate they felt about expressing their own yearnings and they were grateful that someone was doing it for them. There is something about giving voice to the deepest longings of the human heart that is healing to both the writer and the reader. This is what I’ve attempted in these pages.
I picked the subtitle because it seems to fit everyone. A tattered soul describes all the walking wounded who make up the human race. They are liberals and conservatives, women and men - people of all different races, nationalities and ages. Some are artists and dreamers who might be spiritually unaffiliated while others are conservative folk who want everything to be neat and tidy. Some are introverts - energized by solitude and depleted by people. Others are the extroverts who pity them. Some are sweet, feral seekers who could never be spiritually domesticated. Others might be the adherents of fundamentalism. I just wanted to offer grace to anyone who has ever longed for something just beyond their reach…
PART ONE – THE INTERSECTION OF PAIN AND PURPOSE
1
Crawling through the Breaches
This is a book about becoming. It is about embracing our inadequacies, letting go of false securities, turning wounds to wisdom and finding ourselves in the process. It is a book about epiphanies and ah-ha moments when our souls are transformed and everything becomes new again. Sometimes the profound complexities of life and the crucible of trauma and loss can jump-start our spiritual formation so that things like character, authenticity and integrity become more important to us than ever before. It often happens when we are sent to a land of brokenness and in that lonely place, our eyes are mysteriously opened and wonders are revealed.
Before the process begins, there is a deadly comfort. It forbids growth. It denies truth. It is blind to the suffering of others. We wander aimlessly without direction in a life devoid of meaning and we find ourselves at times, infatuated by the mundane. We collect stuff and store-up treasures that are easily consumed by moth and rust. Others might envy us but inside our hearts there is an emptiness that yearns to be filled with things unknown.
And then something happens. It might be a tragedy. It might be an experience that shakes us to the core. It might be something so beautiful and full of splendor that our eyes can no longer focus on former things. Suddenly, we find ourselves on a ‘road less traveled’ and nothing will ever be the same again.
It always seems to begin with humility. It is that imperishable stuff of eternity. Every good thing starts there and nothing truly transformative ever happens without it. When we see it in another soul, there is something magical about it. We find ourselves wondering what kind of power enables it and we are mesmerized by its beauty.
My earliest encounter with it occurred when I was five years old. My family was having dinner together one evening when I accidentally dropped my napkin on the floor. I went under the table to fetch it but my dad thought I was being mischievous. He called my name sternly and I got scared and banged my head against the underside of the table. As I crawled back into my chair, I exclaimed, "Ow! I was just getting my napkin!" A sudden look of sorrow came over my dad’s face.
Then he apologized.
I started to cry - not because my head hurt, but because the moment was so touching. I wouldn’t have been able to express it then, but I was moved by it. I guess I was a sensitive kid. At the time, my dad seemed so powerful to me. He didn’t have to humble himself. He held all the cards. No one was making him do it yet he did it anyway. It seems like a small thing now, but it wasn’t small then, and I obviously never forgot it.
I often wonder why some people can acknowledge a mistake so easily while others find it nearly impossible. It’s such a mystery. But I’ve never met anyone who hates seeing humility in another person. We all feel safe around someone who admits a failure. In fact, we long to be in community with such people. It’s as if we instinctively know that perfection isn’t possible but those who can be real and honest and transparent make us feel cherished and secure.
Put those thoughts on a back burner for a few minutes. I’ll return to them shortly but first, I want to tell you about a collision I saw in Nicaragua involving an angry American teenager. It wasn’t a car collision. It was a collision of two worlds. She was fifteen years old and a sophomore in a Midwestern high school. She volunteered to go to Nicaragua with a group of other kids who wanted to get out of town and see the world. She imagined volcanos and lakes and 16th century Spanish architecture. Her parents paid for the trip. She knew she’d also be doing some volunteer work but she had absolutely no idea what she was getting herself into.
Like many teenage girls, she was focused on clothes, boys, cell phones and what other people thought of her. She obviously came from affluence. She was the quintessential product of her culture. I caught my first glimpse of what might be the mischievousness of God when she began her complaints. She didn’t like the heat and she seemed unaccustomed to work. Her face displayed one of those pursed-lip, sour-puss, teenage rebel expressions that we’ve all seen before. She also didn’t want to paint a dilapidated school that was parked in the middle of a garbage dump. The children who lived in the dump attended the school which only served grades K-3. The toilets were broken. The paint was peeling. The cement walls were cracked. We arrived early in the morning before all the little students but we caught glimpses of the pitiful shacks they called ‘home.’ Emaciated dogs wandered the grounds and the stench of garbage was everywhere.
A stunned silence hung in the air as each of us tried to absorb it all. No one felt like talking.
I’ve been curious about human subjectivity - and how to get around it, ever since I was a kid. We all tend to think of ourselves as ‘objective’ and those who disagree with us as ‘subjective’. We think, "If only people would see what I see, they would agree that I’m right." I can’t help laughing at myself as I even write those words. But we all do it. We all convince ourselves of our own objectivity - which only proves how subjective we really are.
Later, when I was in law school, I learned of a legal theory called ‘Critical Legal Studies.’ It basically says that objectivity is impossible because we all view life through the lenses of our own experiences. We all come from some place and our orientation distorts reality so much that truth is indeterminate. It is a paralyzing theory that is devoid of hope. When I first encountered it, I thought its diagnosis of the human condition was brilliant but its pessimism bothered me. There is a term used to describe those who hold to such theories. It is ‘epistemological humility.’ It’s just a fancy phrase for those who recognize the fundamental problem facing us all.
So... Is there really no way out? Is there no way to transcend our blinding biases? What has to happen before we are each willing to strip ourselves of everything that holds us back?
There’s another term I learned long ago. It’s not academically fancy. But it contains more depth than anything I know. It is, ‘ a broken and contrite heart. ’
Now let’s go back to the dump where two wor