laughing pastor

holes 
have been part of my life

the hole out back of the 
garage of my best friend's house 
was a sort of refuge

when we were in 
elementary school
we loved that place

we would sit for hours 
on hot summer days 
under the shade of the trees
digging down into the cool 
dirt

our favorite thing to do was 
fill up our shirts


we would sit 
like little buddhas
rubbing our
dirt bellies 
laughing 
the afternoon away

holes 
have been part of my life

the blue hole 
at a church camp
nestled in the shady trees 
of the texas hill country

the result of
underground springs
and ancient rock formations

a delightful place to 
swim
and jump
and sit
another refuge
of beauty and peace 

holes 
have been part of my life

but not all of the holes 
are life giving

some of them 
remain 
as monuments 
of hurt and pain 

unresolved
                 piercing 

taunting of
past failures
and struggles

holes...
we all live 
with some sort of holes

my father jokes
his nick name is 
ass
    hole

but that is not 
what i am talking about

and
though my father has his quirks 
like the rest of us
he loves
without condition
and that 
makes up for any 
quirks he
might have.

i'm talking about 
holes....

those dark 
voids
we long to 
fill with 
life

holes of emptiness 
regrets
hurts
bitterness
anger

i tripped across
a couple of holes 
today

so now
i work 
to fill them up 
with something 
lasting 
and whole
and life 
giving

perhaps 
this is what
the season 
of 
advent is about...