It's just before midnight on the eve of Christmas Eve.
My baby's in bed and Emma is too.
The tree is crushing me...I told him it was too big for our little home.
Projects and papers are strewn about the floor.
Clean laundry, dirty laundry and books are stacked in piles, everywhere.
I'm a mess. My hair is tangled.
I'm typing and I don't quite know what I'm trying to say.
I carry a pen behind my ear and sharp opinions on my tongue.
Never focused, I'm always juggling thoughts, ideas, hopes and dreams.
I wonder and ache and question everything, that's me.
Tomorrow morning I will clean and set a mouse trap.
I will drink my coffee in shorts.
I'll play some records and dance atop the old wood floor.
I'll puff on my pipe though there's nothing to smoke.
I'll wrap and I'll write and I'll hope for the best.
I'll sit with my Em and pass the time of day.
I'll hug my hunny and welcome my family when they come.
They'll hold me and greet me and take me as I am.
Remember, especially during this holiday time...that we are all different.
We are not the same. Love your people, love the lot of them.
Don't ask them to be someone else. Don't tell them to improve.
Love them just the way they are. It's up to God to do the changing.
It's up to us to do the accepting.
We all have our own mess, don't we?
It looks different from person to person,
but it's there, sitting on a sleeve
or tucked in a dark corner of a heart.
So embrace your people, the weirdos and the bitters.
Embrace the drunks and the wanderers.
Embrace the ones who you will never understand,
the oddballs and misfits.
Embrace the wonder of the season,
to LOVE without condition,
to LOVE with abandon,
to LOVE a mess of a person, a beautiful mess of a person.
Artists, Writers, you have yourselves a merry little Christmas!
"Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace..."