Oh my gosh it was hard.
It was all I could do to stay calm.
Truly – I thought I might rip my hair out.
Or break my own fingers in frustration.
The situation? Helping my oldest son study for a geometry test.
It wasn’t the material that was difficult. It was my boy.
He was angry about having to study. Seeing nothing but red because he didn’t like the questions. Literally throwing his hands up in the air and raising his voice in contempt – at the book – and me.
The triangles on the page were congruent, but he and I were emphatically not.
His temper when he’s threatened surges – just like mine.
But there was hope and I so desperately wanted him to see it.
“What you already know – in part – can help you move forward.”
I whispered words over him.
“Take the information you are given and work it step-by-step to arrive at the answer.”
“Breathe. Believe you can follow the path to the end – and you will.”
“The given clues and the ones you uncover are guides, pointing you toward where you need to go.”
I wanted him to see that I could meet him in all the angles he was trying.
Because I’ve been there. Walked this same path. And he is like me.
I GET him and I GET the struggle.
And as I sit here today and pray for patience and for my son to do his best, it occurs to me that there is a corollary. Another similarity.
The Lord looks down on me and says, “Why do you think I came?”