Birth Pangs

Suffering is not death rattle, but the pain of birth pangs.

Eight times, I was convinced the birth pains were too much for me to bear. “I want to go home!” I groaned to my husband only minutes before it was all over. A baby in my arms obliterated the memory of the suffering I’d just endured.

The clouds rolled back, a rainbow appeared, and the world shimmered with life and hope. Except for one occasion when the suffering continued. But even then, despite the death of a child, it wasn’t the death rattle.

Suffering is not death rattle, but the pain of birth pangs.

I copy those words from the September’s edition of the Carmelite’s Lectio Divina reflections, pasting them into a note before searching for an online image that reflects their meaning.

Then I put the words and the image together. I make a graphic.

I make a lot of graphics.

Each day, I slowly read the Missal readings, pondering the words, before selecting a few that speak to my heart. I then make a couple of graphics, usually one based on the Gospel and one on the psalm.

Using a photo widget, I put the graphics on my devices’ home screens, where I see them every time I pick up my phone or iPad. I read. I think. I pray.

I have another idea: can I make graphics based on the mysteries of the Rosary?

I search for suitable online images and Google the words, mysteries of the Rosary, points to ponder. I choose some of these points to add to my downloaded images. Then using a photo widget, I put my Rosary meditation pictures on the home screens of my phone and iPad. As I pray the Rosary, I scroll through the images, using them as inspiration for mental prayer.

While looking for Rosary images, I discover many beautiful artworks, including lots by Botticelli, which I download.

I want to know more about the paintings, so I watch some art history documentaries on YouTube. I remember the days when I’d snuggle with a daughter or two on the sofa, watching videos about famous paintings or being intrigued by heist or forgery stories. Although my children are grown up, I’m still learning about art.

Suffering is not death rattle, but the pain of birth pangs.

Of course, the joy that follows after the pain of birth doesn’t last forever. Or maybe it does, but at times it is hidden by pain. We suffer many times throughout our lives. Perhaps the hardest sufferings to bear are those associated with our children. Dark days arrive, we enter the tomb, and hope seems to disappear never to return.

Turn pain into prayer.

I heard those words somewhere. When suffering seems like the death rattle, I pull out my beads. I can now open my phone, and ponder the words on my graphics as I pray.

As the beads slip through my fingers, I realise that the pain threatening to overwhelm my heart is birth pangs. I trust all will be well. There’s a rainbow ahead. Unimaginable joy awaits.

In the meantime, suffering isn’t meaningless. As Fr Mike Schmitz said:

Suffering without Christ just hurts. But suffering with Christ can transform the world.

I might put those words on an image.

Images

Wikimedia Commons
Unsplash

Apps for adding text to images

TypiMage: has lots of options
Pics Type

Art History Videos

Art Detectives
Perspective channel on YouTube
Fake or Fortune

Photo Widget

Smart Photo

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