“I’m really angry at my dad,” the teenage girl said to me with a scowl. I looked at her, and she turned to face me for a second. Her eyes squinted against the sunlight pushing through the trees arrayed with only their spring foliage. Wisps of hair moved across her face every time the wind blew. “I get so angry sometimes I just want to scream or hit something. Actually, I do hit things.” I felt so sad. I prayed silently.
Lord, I don’t know what to tell her.
What do you want to tell her?
I didn’t need to ask her why; she had offered it earlier. She used to watch her dad hit on her mom. And even though dad lived elsewhere now, she still felt the same whenever she saw him. Or, she felt it when she was triggered by something that brought up similar emotions. She turned back to brushing Patches. Persnickety, usually demanding Patches was relaxed while the student and I continued grooming her.
I tried to imagine what it must feel like to be her. I thought about how powerful and all consuming rage must be on a daily basis.
Lord, please help her.
When asked how she handled her anger, the teenager freely volunteered the ways she had hurt herself when she was angry: bruises here, knuckles cut here. I asked her about an idea that would not be harmful to herself. She just half shrugged and kept brushing.
I took a deep breath and observed her for a moment. She was focused on grooming, laser focused, but calm. So I asked, “Well, how do you feel now?” “Fine,” she offered in quintessential teenager style. “How does Patches seem to you?” We had talked several times already about Patches and how she was feeling about getting groomed. Patches was enjoying the spa-like treatment to the max.
“She’s happy, I think,” she said. “Do you think she is relaxed?” I prompted. She did think so, and I asked what made her think that. “She’s standing still.” I affirmed her observation and drew her attention to Patches eyes as well. She noticed they were more relaxed, not so wide as when we had first started. We talked about what made Patches feel relaxed. The ritual of grooming was relaxing for her, and it was easy for us to see that she felt good.
I transitioned to ask the kiddo what kinds of things helped her feel the way Patches felt, relaxed and happy. “I like music,” she offered. We talked about finding a song that would help her relax when she felt angry. After a little prompting for more, she offered, “I like to pet my dog.”
“I wonder if that would be a good thing to do instead of hitting something,” I mused aloud as we brushed.
Then I mentioned, “I like to pray when I feel angry and ask God for help…. Do you ever do that?” She shook her
head no. However, when I asked her if she believed in God, she said yes. So I said, “Well, maybe next time you could pet your dog while you listen to your music and then tell God you're angry and ask for his help to control it.” She shrugged, “Yeah, maybe.”
And I smiled at her.
It was the first step in a very important bridge that we could build together over the coming weeks of sessions.
God exists and he cares. He cares so much in fact that he sent his son. This is why we do what we do - to build the bridge straight to Jesus, one baby step at a time.