A gas station lesson in donut perspective

Traveling home from vacationing in the Black Hills, my family made periodic stops along the way for gas and snacks. At one stop my son purchased donuts and upon checking out the cashier asked, “How many holes?” Confused, my son replied, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Again the cashier asked in all seriousness, “How many holes do you have?” My son lives in London and wasn’t sure if this was new lingo in his home state but in total desperation replied, “I have two round donuts and one long one.”

Bingo! That was the correct answer as he was buying two holes because he had two round donuts!

We laughed about the encounter as none of us had ever been asked that question. How many holes do you have? The more I thought about it, I wondered if that isn’t how many people look at themselves. Do we measure what’s missing instead of noticing everything that’s still there?

A donut isn’t purchased because of the hole. The hole simply makes it what it is. Likewise, our weaknesses, losses, and unanswered questions don’t define our worth. Sometimes we spend so much energy trying to fill every hole in our lives that we forget to enjoy the sweetness God has already placed around them.

The cashier counted donut holes while we count holes of different kinds. We count the opportunities missed, the dreams that didn’t work out, the relationships that changed, the aches in our bodies, the worries that keep us awake at night and the disappointments that seem to arrive without invitation. If someone asked us about our lives, many of us could quickly list the empty spaces; the holes.

No one buys a donut because of the hole. The hole is simply there. What makes the donut worth enjoying is everything that surrounds it—the warm dough, the frosting, the cinnamon sugar, the glaze, the chocolate or the colorful sprinkles.

The hole may catch your eye but it isn’t the reason the donut brings a smile.

Life has plenty of holes. There are losses we can’t explain, prayers that seem unanswered, plans that unravel, and chapters we wish we could rewrite. Pretending those empty places don’t exist isn’t healthy or honest. The holes are real.

However too often we allow the empty spaces to define our days while overlooking the abundance wrapped around them. We forget to notice the family that still gathers around the table, the friend who calls just to check in, the neighbor who waves as we drive by, the sunrise that quietly announces another new beginning, or the simple joy of sharing donuts on a car ride home from vacation with people we love.

Gratitude doesn’t erase the holes. It simply reminds us that they aren’t all there is.

Perhaps that is one of the quiet lessons woven through faith. Scripture repeatedly invites us to lift our eyes—not because hardship disappears, but because God’s goodness surrounds us even when we are painfully aware of what is missing in life. Blessings and burdens frequently occupy the same day but God is faithful throughout it all.

Maybe that’s why I keep thinking about that cashier’s question.

Without intending to, he offered a reminder that instead of asking “how many holes do you have?” we should also ask, “How much sweetness surrounds the holes?” A familiar hymn says it this way: Count your blessings, name them one by one; count your blessings, see what God has done.

The next time you find yourself counting what’s missing—in yourself, in your family, or in your community, pause for a moment. Give thanks for what remains. Take stock of the sweetness that remains. Count the kindness. Count the people who love you. Count the moments of beauty that arrive without fanfare. Better yet, give thanks to the God who specializes in filling empty places with hope. And if you’re holding a donut while you do it, all the better.

I have learned that God often teaches me through unexpected moments. I wasn’t in a sanctuary. I wasn’t reading a theology book or working on my next sermon. I was traveling with people I love, savoring the sweetness of the moment as we laughed about donut holes.

Who knew?!