...beside the weary road

O ye, beneath life's crushing load, whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way, with painful steps and slow,
Look now, for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing:
O rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing!
---Edmund Sears, 1849

It's easy to do. Without even meaning to, you can fill up every little square in your planner this time of year, with 'have to's and 'want to's. You can fill it up until activities start leaking out the sides, dropping off the bottom, and being written over in darker pen. Some of the things you'll do will be important, make the world a better place. Some will just make your world a better place, and that's ok. Some of them, straight up honest, you might do just because someone else expects you to. There. Said that.

Add to that, the holidays aren't the kindest time of year for everyone. Every lost parent, sibling, or child; every family bent or broken, stretched into new shapes; every strained relationship or career disappointment seem magnified by the sparkle of lights, the constancy of piped-in carols, the over-sweet trays of goodies on every table, the smiling Christmas card faces.

Close your eyes, then. Imagine pulling to the shoulder of the hectic, crowded road. You know you are tired, exhausted even; it will be good to rest. You pull on your gloves and hat, and button up your coat to the top; dig the fleece blanket out of the back seat. Get out of the car now; climb up onto the hood, and wrap up. Then, just listen.

There's a song the angels are waiting to sing just for you.