Recently the world turned its attention to the rescue efforts in Chile. Thirty three men were trapped in the bowels of the earth for two months, while hundreds if not thousands of people combined efforts and resources to lift them back to the surface in a cramped capsule. 

 

I have not a clue how much the rescue cost in terms of dollars and pesos, but I suspect generosity won the day. I can only imagine the animated meetings of engineers, miners, geologists and medical consultants as they predicted and implemented their plans to save the lives of men they had never met. It is possible that members of the rescue team had in the past year crossed paths with some of the trapped men on the streets of San Jose, and felt not a trace of interest in their difficulties. But in the scenario of the collapsed mine, these victims sprang to the limelight and captured our global compassion. 

 

While I join the universal sentiment of wishing these men well, whose names and pasts held not a whit of bearing on their worth as salvable, I am jealous.

 

Why is it that three dozen persons who are separated from their families by tons of rock are supremely deserving of the collective endeavor of a nation, while numberless men are separated from their families through divorce every day of every year on every corner of the globe?

 

For one thing, no one wasted any time asking if the people wanted to get out. 

 

"Perhaps they chose to escape their problems. We should not force them to come back if they don't want to," was not a quote I heard from any CNN reporters. 

 

It is not so safe talking about a return from pending divorce. People get feisty, when you start exploring ways to reconcile. There is a taboo around reaching out to people whose lives are caving in. 

 

The other day I hugged a friend whose sibling is experiencing a marital conflict. I tried to express empathy for her pain in watching a family she loves suffer. She said I was the first person to acknowledge her hurt. 

 

Is that possible? I suspect that complete strangers will be contacting the wives of the miners for the near future, saying, "I saw you on the news! I am so sorry for your ordeal and happy for your husband's safe return!"

 

Yet my friend passes people she has known for years in a code of silence? 

 

No one would say that getting the men through the shaft was easy, or cheap. Perhaps bringing husbands and wives back together means moving heaven and earth too.

The part that breaks my heart is how skittish we are about trying.