evangeline :: sojourner

The Candle

2009-07-12T15:54:00.000-07:00

She sat at the kitchen table, motionless but hardly emotionless. Grace successfully wrestled the sobs that welled up inside. Yet it wasn’t so much an inner strength that contained those tears. Weary eyes and drooping shoulders were telltale signs of the fact that Grace was just too tired. Too tired to make the five hour train ride to turn in the money for her daughter’s tuition. Too tired to see the deception in yet another one of her husband’s promises of reformation. Too tired to cry upon hearing that David had gone off with the money only to drink and gamble it away—again.

Grace dreaded the conversation that she would have with the school’s administrator. She tried not to count how many times she’d gone through this already. Yet every time David sobered up for a few days she couldn’t help but hope that perhaps the man she thought she married was, in fact, the man he truly was.

Grace slowly moved over to her sewing machine, her hands gently smoothing the beautiful cotton dress that awaited its altering. While Grace remembered a time when this dress could have been hers, she was no longer the daughter of a wealthy businessman. Grace sighed as she glanced at her once delicate hands. The rough, needle-pricked fingers that toiled for hours each day seemed to mock her, causing her to quickly look away. Now she was a seamstress, YWCA sewing instructor, mother of four, and wife of an alcoholic, good-for-nothing gambler.

As she sat bent over the sewing machine, the room dark except for a candle that she kept for when David would come home from the bar, the voices of her friends and family echoed in her head, begging her to leave the sorry life that she was living. Grace angrily pushed those thoughts away attempting to focus on the up and down motion of the needle passing through the dress. She’d asked herself so many times why she continued to stay. Why she continued to wake up each morning, only to face the monotonous drone of the sewing machine and the endless pile of clothing that she would only be able to wear in her dreams, or vicariously through her customers. Suddenly Grace realized that she was finished with the dress. Done for the night, Grace turned off the sewing machine and wearily made her way to the bedroom. The stillness of the night was like a sanctuary to Grace as she lay down, her eyes wandering over to the shadows that danced upon the walls, the dark shapes choreographed by the constant movement of the candle’s flame. As sleep fell upon her, Grace breathed a silent prayer. That candle must not go out.

Dancing

2009-05-30T16:28:00.000-07:00

She glided to the window, as if her feet were led by the slow, gentle rhythm of a waltz. Grace pulled the blinds shut, careful not to leave a crack. A hint of light struggled to filter through, but its efforts were useless. Giving a sideways glance to her brother, who was carrying a fan in from the next room, Grace looked expectantly at the door.
"John, is Bill coming today?"
She went over to the record player, attempting to look engrossed in setting the record in place. John gave her a mischievous grin as he shrugged. He flipped the switch of the fan on, then went over to where his sister stood. The steady hum of the whirling blades began to fill the room, singing along to "This Nearly Was Mine". He took a slow, sweeping bow before raising his hand to meet hers.
"Shall we dance?"

Their feet rarely missed a step, the steady 1, 2, 3 - 1, 2, 3 rhythm leading the way. As they waltzed around the tiny room, the fan still droning in the background, John's looming military service was almost forgotten, and only an occasional glance at the door reminded Grace of her own woes. Suddenly, the sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted Frank Sinatra's crooning voice, and as if doing an intricate routine, John ran to unplug the fan and return it to the next room as Grace removed the record and set the player in its original place. Just as the door opened, Grace quickly smoothed her dress and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, hoping that she didn't look too flushed.
"Grace, John! Come help me with the groceries," their mom ordered, as she made her way through the room and into the kitchen.
Grace breathed a sigh of relief as John gave her a quick wink.

That night, before she went to bed, Grace closed her eyes as she danced with an imaginary partner--preferably a tall, dashing young man--her feet gently keeping in rhythm.
How clear and deep are my fancies, of things I wish were true...

****

When my grandmother asked me to drive her and her friend to their first cha-cha lesson this afternoon, I had no idea what I would be in for. Needless to say I had a terrific time learning to cha-cha with a bunch of senior citizens. Sexy.
I love getting to hangout with my grandmother. Not only is she my hero (I could go on and on about why she is), but she spoils me rotten. Yep, definitely nothing to complain about. In between my broken Mandarin and her mixture of Mandarin, Taiwanese, and occasional (for my sake) English, we manage to communicate. I love her.
The story that I wrote above is based on my grandmother's own experience with dancing, which she told me on our way to the cha-cha lesson. In her time and culture, dancing was not exactly what upstanding and refined young people would do. So her younger brother found someone to teach them both to dance, and they would do so in secret--shutting all the blinds and turning on the fan so as to drown out the sound of the record player. I don't think their mother ever found out.

The Challenge

2009-05-27T11:58:00.000-07:00

I like to challenge myself. You know, break free from my comfort zone. To think outside the Evangeline-box.

That said, I decided that this coming semester I will be filming a love story. Yeah, I know. Terrifying.

Now it isn't that I am super cynical of the whole "love story thing"... okay, so maybe I am. But you have to understand that my cynicism is quite founded. Thankyouverymuch.

So let me ask you this: What makes a love story?
The sad thing is that I am now going to have to clarify and refine my question: What makes a true love story? (Yes, "love" and "true love" appear to be different in this day and age.)

Stud meets Gorgeous. They're perfect for each other. They go for a stroll on the beach (and I'll leave it at that--let's keep it rated G). They're in love. The end.

Sure, I'm being terribly sarcastic and lame (I'm a pro, really)... but do you see my problem? What is a true love story?

I found a quote from an author that I, admittedly, never heard of... 'til I googled "true love stories"... yes, I am officially pathetic (but hey, google has the answer to everything!). Anyways, here's the quote from Richard Bach:

True love stories never end.

So what about those fairy tales? When "the prince and princess lived happily ever after. The End"? What if Cinderella realized that her night of dancing at the ball with Prince Charming was not enough to base their relationship upon? What if Sleeping Beauty began to wish that a different Prince Charming had kissed her and woken her from her slumber? Maybe "The End" doesn't belong in a true love story...

This might be a sign of my old age, but I am going to tell another story from when Hil and I were younger. We had this storybook called, "I'll Always Love You," and it was about a little boy and his puppy. The story is a bit foggy in my head, but what I remember is that at the end of it, the boy and puppy have grown up, and now the dog is about to die. At the very end of the story, the boy whispers to his faithful friend, "I'll always love you."

I hope the true love story that I film will have characters that will be able to say, "I'll always love you."

And truly mean it and live it.

(On a side note, I might not be filming a true love story until I can find a story that nails the "true love" part. I'll keep you updated.)

Worth a million words...

2009-05-26T14:49:00.000-07:00

If I just breathe...

2009-05-25T16:50:00.000-07:00

There’s something deliciously sappy about my bright pink nail polish (courtesy of Edy, age nine and already the nail polish extraordinaire) and the cheery rays of sun filtering through the window. Michelle Branch’s blast from the not-so-long-ago-past, “Breathe,” is blaring in my head, and I’m feeling on top of the world. Hello summer!

Did you know that summertime is worse than New Year’s when it comes to resolutions? At least for me it is. Three months of freedom (okay, so it’s a rather sketchy definition) and endless opportunities stare me straight in the face… and I can hardly catch my breath before I want to dive in and “do life,”—whatever that means. But then I kick myself and try to turn off that little voice inside my head that incessantly whispers, “Go, go, go!” I started a list during finals week, something along the lines of “Summer To-Dos.” It’s sitting in a recycle bin somewhere.

If I just breathe…

Why do I feel like I’m in control when I hold my breath? I remember playing a game when Hil and I were younger. We’d see how long we could hold our breath… I think I passed the two-minute mark once or twice. Sometimes I feel like I’m still playing that game. Reminds me of my Don-Rags question: Compare the supernatural fall (Satan’s fall) to the natural fall (Adam’s fall). Believe me, there is a connection to the game and the question.

If I just breathe…

I won’t be going home this summer. Just thinking about it still causes a queasy feeling in my stomach. So much for the whole “Miss Independent” thing—I just can’t quite pull it off. Can I say how excited I am that Hil is coming to visit? I’m smiling just thinking about it.

I am excited about this summer. I am growing up—regardless of if I want to or not. I am learning… if I just breathe…

I almost forgot how wonderful it is to just sit down, think, and write. I’m not psycho-analyzing myself. I’m not laying out the next bajillion years of my life.

If I just breathe…

Hello summer!

A Western New York Winter

2009-01-16T22:04:00.000-08:00

Barren fields, haunted barns, cozy porches, & maple trees huddled together to brave the bitter cold. A blanket of snow shrouds this frosty image, and tire-imprinted roads frame the scenery as I drive by. My eyes linger on the beauty of the western New York landscape, trying to impress the breathtaking image onto my mind. There is something settled and all-knowing about a solemn, wintry day.

Your favorite rose bush, pet rock, and little brother’s action figure, disguised as odd lumps of snow that scatter around the yard: There is something about winter that reminds me of sin’s masquerade. Muddy tire tracks taint yesterday's white veil: There is something about winter that reminds me of my tarnished state. Intricate snowflakes dance in the frosty air, slowly covering the muddy marks: There is something about winter that reminds me of Christ’s atonement. Perennials peek through the blanket of snow, anticipating the day when Spring’s gentle rays will coax Winter away: And there is something about winter that reminds me of hope-—hope for Tomorrow and true anticipation for that Day.

This is all my hope and peace,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Restless

2008-12-27T20:05:00.000-08:00

Why does my heart wander... when it has nothing left to seek? It is true that I am human, that I am finite and prone to stray. Yet God has worked so marvelously in my life that I cannot do anything but return, time and time again, to Him! So why can't I rest in Him? Yes, the words that Augustine so poignantly penned are true, "Our hearts are restless, until they rest in Thee," and yet my heart is restless--restless to find rest!

Lord, still my heart... 'til I only dwell in Thee.

If to distant lands I scatter
If I sail to farthest seas
Would you find and firm and gather 'til I only dwell in Thee?

If I flee from greenest pastures
Would you leave to look for me?
Forfeit glory to come after
'Til I only dwell in Thee

If my heart has one ambition
If my soul one goal to seek
This my solitary vision 'til I only dwell in Thee
That I only dwell in Thee
'Til I only dwell in Thee
(Hymn, by Brooke Fraser)

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T17:49:00.001-08:00

So... I made this for my computer background... and thought I'd share it with you (click image to see detail)! Merry, merry Christmas!!!

A Confession

2008-12-21T21:50:00.000-08:00

Warning: Extremely long post written below.

If there is anything true to be said of me, it would be to say that I am a fearful being. The online world is probably not the most common of places to be making such a confession, but hey, it’s true—anyways, I might need to find this blog post four decades later to remind myself (why am I preparing myself for the worst?!). And thus Evangeline flung her confession into the eternal abyss known as “Internet”.

It is never easy to realize that fear is present in one’s life. After all, should fear not be combated with all the wonderful virtues pertaining to strength (and the like)? Maybe I should repeat some chants to myself… something along the lines of, “I am strong. I am fearless. I am…,”? Or maybe I need to go on some Bruce Wayne-like journey to self-discovery and strength? Hmmm.

On the other hand, fear is also valued—if, that is, fear is seen to work hand in hand with humility. This is the fear that I am going to be writing about today.

Growing up in Sunday School (where we were taught to “fear God,”) I have taken pride in my fear. Fear, I engrained within myself, was to always be the veil with which one approached God. After all, was Lucifer’s fall not the result of his lack of Godly fear, thus creating in him the desire to be like God? If I approached God with fear, I would be free from any possible fall.

Now I am going to slightly divert to the subject of approaching God—though this will be in light of my understanding of fear.

Back to Sunday School.

While growing up, I was always the “go-to” person when it came to Bible trivia. I knew it all—I had to know it all. Now fast forward a decade later and I am completely blown away by the inadequacy of the mind to even begin to grasp God. I know nothing—I can’t know anything.

When I was young (cue: The Killers’ “When We Were Young”), I was afraid of fear. To be unsure of God or to be unable to grasp Him was to be, in some way, not a “good Christian.” Yet now that I am old (‘tis true, I am soon to leave my teenage years behind), I am afraid when I do not fear. To be sure of God or to be able to grasp Him must imply pride of some kind.

While I can easily laugh at the way I viewed fear when I was a kid, it is not so easy to realize that my equating fear with humility has hindered my journey of knowing God. And now I am going to do a funny thing and quote myself (I know, I should save this for when I become a world-famous cinematographer):

“Fear, I engrained within myself, was to always be the veil with which one approached God.”

When it came to approaching God, my attempts had long been in vein of verses like Psalm 33:8, “Let all the earth fear the LORD; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of Him!” And indeed, God is an awesome God! He is to be feared and held in awe. Yet this blog post is a confession, and thus I will now confess how the fear = humility mindset was a stumbling block to me (something which, I cannot over emphasize, was completely due to my own sinfulness… not Sunday School or whatnot).

I had an intense distrust of man's attempt to know God. My fear had led me to pinning my idea of God "somewhere high up in the heavens"... safely out of reach for man to tarnish or for me to wrestle with and truly desire—God is so awesome (and I use that word in the literal sense… not in the cheap way it is commonly used) that I should fear him and keep Him beyond the capacities of my mind. And so unlike Jacob, I did not want to wrestle with God—I wanted to fearfully and “humbly” back away from Him.

Am I, a fallible human, to fear God and “stand in awe of Him”? By all means, yes! Just as Isaiah cried out in Isaiah 6:5, “Woe is me! For I am lost!” so I should recognize the uncleanly state of my human frailty in the presence of the Lord. Yet praise be to God! For in the same way that the seraph touched the coal to Isaiah’s lips, so Jesus Christ’s blood has touched and covered me.

“And I said: ‘Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!’ Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: ‘Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.’” (Isaiah 6:5-6 ESV)

To fear God in false humility, insincerity, and laziness is the fear that I had and, I’ll admit it, continue to struggle with. Lord have mercy on me, a sinner.

Why do I share Isaiah’s story? Because just as Isaiah was swept up in his fear, so I too want to be filled with a fearful humility—in awe of the “King, the Lord of hosts!” (Isaiah 6:5). And in the same way that Isaiah was cleansed, so I, too, have been “atoned for.” I can stand in the presence of God, just as Isaiah did.

Friends, this is not a blog post about how we need to throw away the fear of the Lord—that is the very last thing that I would have this post initiate. Rather this post is to both encourage you in the sincere fear of the Almighty God, and to testify to the cleansing power of Jesus, through which I can boldly approach the awesome God!

“Fear, I engrained within myself, was to always be the veil with which one approached God.” Yes, I am quoting myself two times.

In my false idea of fearful humility, I was actually being prideful in thinking that my veil of fear was what enabled my approaching God. Yet my “guilt is taken away,” and my sins “atoned for” by the blood of Jesus Christ! He has torn my veil of fear, enabling me to truly desire and approach Him. He is also the God that I behold in fear and trembling, before whom I kneel face down in awe of His glory! I am a fearful being—and I praise God for the growing knowledge I have of Him as I continue to strive in the humble and sincere fear of Him!

So my confession has been made. I pray that you will join me in desiring and approaching God in true fear, ridding oneself of the false fear that so easily masquerades as humility. We have been cleansed by the blood of Jesus Christ: now let us approach Him!

Note to four-decades-later-Evangeline: Fear God!

"Re"

2008-12-18T13:09:00.000-08:00

The fact that I haven't touched this blog since July should be REason enough for the REsurrection of this blog. Yet rather than dedicating it solely to my photography, I've also decided to REinvent this blog and make it about ME!!! Yay for selfish ambition and excitement!

Anyhoooo... this blog will be about life, the capturing of it (in various forms), and yeah... I'm super excited. Now let's see how long this can last. Haha.

In light of my sporadic blogging history, I am determined to blog at least once a week (which is a big step for me, believe me!). Therefore, I am posting my contract to myself... and "what God has joined together, let no man put asunder." (Referring to the REunion of my blog and I, by the way.)

I, Evangeline, do hereby take this blog... as my blog. I will love it and cherish it... by posting on it at least once a week. Not 'til death do us part (which raises the larger question: do blogs die?)... but something to that effect.

Signed, Evangeline

Discovered Treasure

2008-07-08T07:32:00.001-07:00

I love treasure hunts. I've always loved them, in fact. I used to imagine myself a pirate, searching for a chest full of gold. Yet while I no longer set sail in my trusty cardboard vessel, I do continue to search for hidden treasure... and yesterday I accidentally stumbled upon a wonderful find!

Here are some pictures from last night's discovery:

From "Couches"

2008-05-27T22:38:00.000-07:00

Shots from the DP Webster music video shoot, "Couches"...

Soli Deo Gloria!
Evangeline

Poppy: The Band

2008-05-27T13:19:00.001-07:00

Road trips. Friends. Poppy fields. Fun. Photoshoots.
Meet Poppy, the best wannabe-band ever.

Soli Deo Gloria!
Evangeline

Best Friend

2008-05-25T18:24:00.000-07:00

She chose the fake lipstick, I chose the fake money. Our "Grandma-trips" to the dollar store were always predictable--thus making her a makeup queen... and I... well, let's just say that I was a "millionaire" at a ripe, young age. Now years later, memories later, fights later, and laughs later, we are still "favoritest sisters ever"... and best friends (okay, so I can only speak on my part...). I love my sister.

So anyways... not only she is an amazing sister... she is also beautiful--inside and out. Cliché, but true. Okay, I'll stop. Now on to the pictures.

Soli Deo Gloria!
Evangeline

Lizzie & Lisa

2008-05-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

A smile comes to my face every time I see Lisa & Lizzie. Roommates and best friends, the two are on the brink of being inseparable--though they both have their wonderfully unique personalities. Anyways, one bright afternoon, the three of us set out for a photoshoot adventure... and the pictures below are the result. Enjoy!

Soli Deo Gloria!
Evangeline

Welcome: An Intro of Sorts

2008-05-21T11:29:00.000-07:00

"Light itself was your first love: you loved paint only as a means of telling about light."
"When you painted on earth--at least in your earlier days--it was because you caught glimpses of Heaven in the earthly landscape. The success of your painting was that it enabled others to see the glimpses too." ~ The Great Divorce (C.S. Lewis)

"The great masters of imagination do not make things out of thin air; they direct our attention to what is right before our eyes. With their help we see it not as commonplace but as magnificent, not as timeworn but as timeless." ~ Eugene H. Peterson

"To send light into the darkness of men's hearts - such is the duty of the artist." ~ Robert Schumann

As I explore the beauty of God's creation, I will be giving you a glimpse into my viewfinder, posting some of my photos and accompanying them with stories, as well as with reverent wonder. I hope you will join me in bearing witness to the breathtaking beauty of the world around us...

Soli Deo Gloria!
Evangeline