After I finish a book that caught my heart, I have a period of melancholy in which I can barely even talk about the story. It feels like a bereavement. But with time, the pain lessens and I can behold the beauty alone. I am sharing this review now because my bereavement has passed!
I loved Evangeline of Sky Valley. It made me want to rejoice in God and His creation like never before. It made me want to spend every available moment delighting in my husband who is a gift of staggering proportions. Andrew Case cast a spell throughout the book, taking ordinary things and making them show forth light and hope. The spell has not ended with the book.
There is an undercurrent of intruding despair and the constant searching out of hope. Will writes in his journal, “To say ‘your will be done’ feels like spilling out my own blood. And yet I must say it, frantic and foolish though I am.” Who has not felt this when praying, when pouring out their heart to God, when grasping for holiness instead of self? You walk with Will and Evangeline through the valley of the shadow of death…and also through simple delights and strengthening faith.
There is the delight of marriage. A minister implores them, “Scrimp on luxuries if you have to, but never on the dancin’ of souls. Make thrifty housekeeping full of splendor and majesty.” I read this and determined to dance more, and to make all of the ordinary things full of splendor. I think someone could call Case’s picture of marriage idealistic, or unrealistic. But the ideal is exactly what we need to place before our eyes! (And there is real pain in this story, too.) It takes hard work and determination to make our marriage and home full of delight day after day, year after year, with the coming of kids and plenty of bills and broken things…and our sinful world and sinful hearts. But it’s not only possible, it’s necessary. As a stay-at-home mom and homemaker, my actual job is to make our home wonderful. Full of wonder. You will experience the thrill of encouragement here in this book.
There is Will’s near-silliness that belies the deeper shape of his take on life. Here Evangeline and Will discourse on how poetical our lives should be:
“I’ve been thinking. If a third of the Bible is poetry, what ought our lives to be like?” Evangeline meditated a while. “I suppose we ought to have more sermons that are poems?” “I never thought of that. You’re right.” “And perhaps we ought to read and write more poetry.” “Ah, yes, that’s what I might say,” agreed Will. “And we ought to live a third of our lives poetically.” “If our blood is truly bibline.” Evangeline snuggled closer to Will. “I think you make my life more biblical—you make it more poetic.” “And you mine.”
I want to be one of those people who live poetically: not disconnected from real people and real life, but with the knowledge of the spiritual realities that accompany the tangible ones. This gives you the breath of life and hope through the mundane and the evil of this world.