Sometimes We Don't Say Anything

Today my daughter sat at the kitchen table.
Her eyes staring at her composition book.
Her pencil running across the page.
Her eyes showing her frustrations.
Math.
She looks at me, with tears in her eyes and asks me "why don't I get this?". She says she would rather get math than anything else in the world right now.
She tries again.
Papers are crumpled.
Head in her hands.
Her anger is showing. She pulls at her hair.
I tell her to take a break.
She wants to go to her room. But I worry. There was a time when she was angry and she would go in her room and hurt herself.
I tell her that I will be there soon. Not to hurt herself. I have to say it.
She says she just wants to clear my head.
A minute later I hear her ripping papers in pieces.
I open her door. She is mad, sad, and frustrated. Ripping papers gave her an outlet. I am happy she used other ways to let out her anger. More than happy.
I sit on her bed.
I want to tell her the right thing. I want to encourage her and tell her she is smart and everything will be okay. I want to tell her not to worry--everything will work out.
But I don't.
I am silent.
I ask her if she wants me to play with her hair. She has long hair and I pull it through my fingers while she lays there quietly, her back to me. I don't say anything.
I wish I could impart some kind of wisdom. Be the one who gives the answer that changes everything. But there are no words right now.
It is like the times when people ask me how they can see themselves as God sees them.
It is like the times when I am asked how I walked through eating disorder recovery.
It is like the times when I am asked how I shed my past, the labels, the memories of trauma.
I don't always have the right thing to say. I wish I did. I wish I could give the magic answer.
But on my own I can't.
What I have to offer is the faith I have that God loves us.
God will bring us peace in times of despair and frustrations.
God is the only answer to bring us through. We must live the Word of God.
I pray for my daughter each time my fingers run through her hair. I ask God to give her peace, to comfort her heart, to give me words that she needs to hear, to help her feel His presence. And soon...I can see her body relax.
God's peace surrounds her.
She still doesn't understand her math.
I still don't have the perfect words.
But I know that God covered her in love and peace.
We don't always have to say something.
Sometimes we just have to sit there and pray and let the other person know that you care.
Let God do the rest.
Blessings,
Teresa