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
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
Discover more from Wholy Souly
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Hi Sue. If you wondered whether this challenge was a good idea, I can assure you it was. Today is the sixth year anniversary of Michael’s death, and I cannot express in words what this post has done for my heart. ❤️
Thank you so very much. May God continue to bless and protect you, now and forever. Amen.
Michelle,
You are in my thoughts and prayers as you mourn afresh the loss of your precious son, Michael. Anniversaries are hard, aren’t they? I’m so glad I could share this time with you even in a small way via my blog post.
Yesterday, I was thinking about my challenge and regretting having made the blogging pact. I couldn’t think of anything to write about so the pact seemed like a stupid idea. I was tempted to give up on it. But then, I scrolled through my notes, and the birth pangs quote caught my eye, and before I knew it, I was writing a post. When I started writing, I intended only to talk about the graphics I’ve been making, using the birth pangs one as an example. But the words about grief and children appeared as if they wanted to be written.
I found a wonderful GK Chesterton quote that I’ve been pondering:
‘You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the play and the opera, and grace before the concert and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing; And grace before I dip the pen in the ink.’
G.K. Chesterton
Grace before dipping the pen in the ink. Grace before typing on the keyboard. Oh yes.
Michelle, May God also bless and protect you. May Mary shelter you under her mantle as you grieve your son. ❤️
The sorrow of losing a child must be almost debilitating. I have never had that experience, I don’t know what it’s like. Sue I know you have and some of your readers and I am so desperately sorry for your losses 🥺. The only tragic loss I have experienced in my life is the loss of my father. He was killed in an accident when he was 43 and I was 12. Insurmountable feelings of emptiness and loneliness I have known. But this is far from the pain of losing a child. I can’t even imagine. My daughter is in the police academy, training to be a police officer and she will graduate in December of this year. So just a few short months away. We are so unimaginably proud of her. Just a few short years ago she was the victim of a unwanted and extremely painful divorce . And she is a tough girl and bounced back. She has continued to stick it out in a class that started out with 41 and now has only in the high 20s left. But there is also the realization that she will be putting herself In harm’s way every day. She is actually made me the beneficiary on a life insurance policy that she had to take out when she signed the contract to enter the police academy. The thought of ever collecting money on the death of my daughter would be something I can’t even really think about ,can’t even really go there. And I hope I never have to. May God pour out his blessings on all our children. May God pour His blessings on all mothers that you know and you yourself Sue who have lost a child and I pray that you would find the peace and the comfort that God promises in his word the peace that passes all understanding. I felt it when my father passed away when I prayed for it the day that I was picked up from school and taken to the emergency room the day I lost my dad.❤
Nancy,
I imagine losing a father at a young age is very difficult. It would have affected your childhood and beyond. I’m sorry you know that pain.
In some way, grief touches us all, doesn’t it? So we can empathise with each other, knowing whatever the particular situation, we all experience dark times and feel lost and alone.
Oh, it’s hard not to worry about our kids. But you are right: we can trust God to surround us with peace and comfort whatever happens. We need to give everything to Him.
There are a few family-related things that I feel I’m unable to do anything about. The situations are beyond me. I was feeling helpless until I realised that I needed to feel this way so I could put everything in God’s hands and trust He’ll sort things out. Of course, I keep praying.
You know that I keep you and your family in my prayers. May God protect your daughter and your loving mother’s heart. ❤️
Your so wonderful Sue. Sending much love 💘