We often ask people, “How are you?” Though, in many cases, we don’t really care about the answer. How many of us have that generic, “I’m fine” or I’m good” response always at the ready? We choose to not communicate how we are really feeling. And if those of us hurting did reveal that life is an unending nightmare, what difference would it make? How many have the time and the patience to sit and talk about the 
dark places many visit in their minds? And for those who do share their problems, there is often that fear that the information would be divulged and used to devise tales about how hurt we are or who hurt us or how we are plotting or how we are dying. For protection, many of us must guard ourselves. But if we are brave enough to say what our problem is, it often elicits the advice to “Pray about it” or the assurance of “I will pray for you.”
Like the woman who seeks an audience with her religious leader and tells that her husband is beating her. Though she may be bruised, eyes tired from tears and grappling with low self-esteem; though she may explain how he displays his control; how the simplest disagreements could result in splatters of blood; how he tells her how to dress and who to talk to and where to go and when and what time to return; and how he threatens that if she ever leaves, he will kill her, the response is always the same.
