If you ask me at church over coffee how I am doing, I will probably tell you that I am “fine.”
If there is acute suffering, then I will tell you. If I have a toothache, I will tell you. If you had asked when my friend had just died, I would have told you I was not fine, and I would have told you why.
But otherwise… “I’m fine thanks”.
Except, what if I’m not? Nothing is “majorly wrong” but I’m just a bit, well… disappointed? How do I tell you that I am disappointed in my work, my family life, my church; in myself, and maybe even in God? You know the feeling. That creeping sense of dissatisfaction. A joyless weariness that colors each day. There are no words for it, no quick ones anyway. So, yeah, I’m fine.