Hi Guys!

Well, the wedding went of without a hitch...well, unless you count the Rev. messing up a few words in the Lord's Prayer a hitch! :)

I was thinking on the 7.5 hour ride home about the wedding. Meg's wedding had just about restored my faith in people. Karen has been saying that since her walk she has taken on the attitude that people, in general are good. (Did I get that right, Kare?) The wedding consisted of all couples with the exception of some young ones here and there, Meg's mom, grandmother, and I. The other bridesmaids and various family on both sides made a great effort to see that I was included in everything (dancing, conversations, etc.)and never alone. Also, to see everyone pitch in and care for someone who was not feeling well, when they could've all figured someone else was taking care of them and focused on themselves was a great reassurance in the nature of people. These simple acts of kindness for a "stranger" and "aquaintance" found me thinking to myself that people were innately good. All weekend I found myself going out of my way for others and wanted to do nice things for the people around me. This hasn't been the case in a long time.

I called Trish on my way home to make the time fly and to find out all about her weekend, since it'd been a few days since we'd talked (and the last time was all about American Idol! :) ). It turns out, her weekend had the opposite effect. Two of her "friends" had invited her to a party, then invited someone they knew she couldn't stand, and informed her of this about 5 minutes before the other person was to show up and informed her in front of everyone else there - "You don't mind they're coming, do you?". If for no other reason than a "how dare you do that to my friend" one, I was livid. do people really do things like this? Stir up drama and make friends uncomfortable?

This morning, I received an email from Neil. I had sent him a little card for his b-day (late as it was, but on principle, since we'd been "discussing" it) as well as a few trinkets. The email I received said, "Thanks for my package. It was thoughtful". I was hurt. Thoughtful? Don't you reserve that word for Thank you notes, condolence cards and out-of-the-blue surprises from co-workers and aquaintances? At least he acknolwedged the receiveing of it, but probably only because I forwarded something to him. But thoughtful? I know I am still holding on; and I know he doesn't care about me anymore, but he did. (Trust me on this one. Even if he never admits it, the eyes and my intuition DO NOT lie) Even for someone you "have good conversations with" ('cuz now I can't even be a friend label), isn't thoughtful a bit cold and formal?

So, why does it take alot of acts to build up faith and only one or two to diminish it?

Is faith like dieting? Does it take alot of effort and work to keep faithlessness away, but only one little deviation to gain it back? It is interesting to me this topic is sprouting in my mind so close to September 11th. In one swooping 2 hour act (or acts) of terrorism, an entire country regained it's faith in itself. And in others. I am reminded of the city in Canada that took in 3 times its population in order to help those stranded out of their homeland. They fed, clothed, and housed those who were stranded; grieved with those who had lost; and band together to do whatever necessary to ease the burden carried by another person. In the U.S. cities and entire states came together to raise money, collect supplies, and everyone wanted to help somehow. An entire country was effected by the attacks on two cities. The thing that always upset me about these attacks (above the obvious) is that it took the lives of approx. 3,000 people to get one human to reach out to another in a time of need.

Shouldn't we always be there for one another? Shouldn't we always consider our brother (so to speak) before we act? Isn't considering your actions before doing them to examine the effects on others appropriate? Living life today like there is no tomorrow. Always sharing with others and caring about them; telling your loved ones they are loved; skipping formalities when talking to friends in order to be part of their lives; softening during "stupid" fights to preserve the relationship.

How can we hold onto faith, when there's so little around us everyday? How can we believe in ourselves when no one else seems to believe in us? How can we reverse the "norm" to make the faith in others easy to hold on to and the faithlessness work and effort?