seconds before they crossed, that crazy number four dog came out of nowhere and clipped the seven dog. Well, seven flipped and rolled, hitting the number five dog. Yeah, you guessed it: the number two dog stumbled, although I have to give him his props; he did try to recover. The trifecta came 4–1–2. Paid $8,267.
I almost had that one also. My ticket said two with one and four, which meant the number two had to come first with the one and four coming in second or third (any order) after the two dog. For four more dollars, I could have boxed those numbers and they could have come in any order and I would have won. But I was so doggone sure about the two.
That’s what I was trying to tell Desiree. I do this for us. Imagine how happy she would have been had I won that money. A few of our financial troubles could have been taken care of with that. She acts like she has major problems with my gambling, but when I hit it big—and I know it’s coming—she’s going to see all of these years have been worth it.
Now, don’t get this twisted. I’m not stupid. I have won money, but it’s a known fact that you have to invest back into any business if you want it to grow. I win, but when I do, I take my winnings and go for an even bigger payout.
Baby-cakes (I started calling Desiree that back when she used to be sweet—used to be) complains that I’m sinning when I gamble. When I ask her to show that to me in the Bible, she can’t. Here’s what I fail to understand: Monday through Friday, I take a chance that I’ll make it to work safely. But that’s okay. I can take money and buy some stock or invest it in real estate. And that’s acceptable. Yet it’s still gambling, if you ask me. I’m putting my money on something I believe will increase my return. I don’t know for sure; I’m merely “taking a chance.” I personally know plenty of folks who “invested”—all right, gambled, let’s just call a spade a spade—in the stock market and lost everything including their homes. Ever hear of E-toys? At least my antics haven’t caused us to lose our house—yet. Although, unbeknownst to Desiree, we’ve come close…mighty close.
Okay, it was like this: a sure deal. All the experts had followed this one horse and felt pretty confident he would win. I don’t play the horses as much as I do the dogs, but this horse was a guaranteed favorite. Top breed, couldn’t lose. One other reason I don’t play the horses much is because you have to put up a lot of money in order to win a lot when it’s a favorite like that. Plus, you have two more unstable variables to factor in: the horse and the jockey. So I needed $1,000 to put on that horse to win if I wanted to walk away with a measly $3,000 when he won the race. Like I said, it was a sure deal, the way IBM stock used to be once upon a time. I figured I’d use the house money, replace it after I won, and spawn a cool $2,000 profit for all my troubles. Again…a sure deal.
Well, that sure deal turned into an Enron investment real quick. That sorry horse didn’t even show (that means to finish fourth). Didn’t even show! I lost all my money.
“Edwin, why is the mortgage company saying they haven’t gotten our last month’s payment yet?” Desiree asked a month after it was due.
“Baby-cakes, I don’t have a clue. You know how these businesses are. I’ll call them and get it straightened out. You know they’re probably going to blame it on a computer error like most of them usually do.”
Desiree looked at me like she didn’t know whether to believe me or not. I had to replace the money fast, so I took some more from our account and went to Mississippi hoping to hit it big. I did okay. I won about $1,500 but lost all of it back except $200. It took me a while, but after two months, I had us back on track with our house notes. I learned one important lesson from this: if I’m going to use money from our household, make it the grocery money. All that requires is my convincing Desiree she’s gained a lot of weight the past few weeks. I then suggest we skip buying groceries altogether for the next three to four weeks to help her lose some of her excess weight, and I pocket that money.
Trust me when I say Desiree will find a way to buy groceries. Especially when she thinks she’s sneaking behind my back to do it. So in the end, it usually works out.
But she and I got into a big argument Friday afternoon. I needed money to go to Mississippi and she wasn’t falling for the redirected-grocery-money-diet-plan this time around. She had started attending this new church a few months back and had been insisting that I visit with her. This was the first time I’ve been home on a Sunday in years, so there was no getting out of going, especially if I wanted any semblance of peace today. I figured I’d go to church for those couple of hours just so I could enjoy the rest of my day without having to hear a sermon from her on why I was “going to hell in a hand basket.”
Frankly, I’d gotten fed up with going to church. Watching those good-old-holier-than-thou church folks treating collection time like they were playing a slot machine that was hot and on a roll. Then there were the admitted church-bingo-playing-for-money folks who called themselves trying to look down their holy noses at me, with their hypocritical selves. Yeah, I said it: hypocritical selves. A bunch of sanctimonious hypocrites!
“Edwin, how can you possibly compare church folks to you and your gambling?” Desiree asked when we were heavy into this discussion some years back, before I ceased going to anybody’s church altogether.
“Have you seen them when it comes to putting their money in the plate?” I cocked my head to the side and opened my eyes wide after she looked at me like she didn’t have a clue where I could possibly be going with this. “Before they drop their money in the plate, it’s like some of them are doing the same thing I do before I plop my money down. I put my funds in, pull the handle or push the button, or place it down and say, ‘Come on, Jesus!’ Well, few people, Christians included, are actually putting their money in church because they love God and desire to give out of love. A good many, not all of them, put money in the collection plate expecting to hit the ‘windows of heaven’ jackpot. Seven, seven, seven. B-ten—Bingo! They drop their money in and pray for an even larger return. It’s like they’re saying, ‘Come on, Jesus! Rain me down a blessing! Here’s my ten, double or nothing!’”
Desiree shook her head. “Edwin, I just don’t know about you sometimes.”
“You know I’m right. How many people, in truth, pay their tithes and offerings only hoping to get that back plus some more? ‘Return unto me and I will return unto you.’ ‘I’m believing for a hundredfold return.’ ‘Open up the windows of heaven, God, and pour me out a blessing. Pour me out a blessing!’ Well, that’s no different from what I do. I put my money in the machine, or lay it on the table, or give it to the clerk at the window, and pray for a blessed return.”
The past few weeks, Desiree has been going on about this fancy-talking Pastor Landris and how he was teaching around the offering about giving out of love for God.
And that was precisely what he said today as I sat there. I mean, that man broke it down where even a fool could understand it.
“Don’t give out of obligation or manipulation. Nor out of necessity, but give because the Lord loves a cheerful giver,” Pastor Landris said. “Give because you love God. You see, it’s easy to give and not love; but it’s impossible to love and not give.”
So I gave. Today, I actually gave. And all I thought about during that time was how much God loves me in spite of my shortcomings, and how much I truly love God just for who He is. For the first time in my life, I gave not because I wanted anything back from God, but just because I loved Him. Period. I felt so free for the first time in a long time.
Then Pastor Landris spoke about strongholds in our lives. I was really feeling what he was saying. This man was actually speaking a Word into my life. And when he finished and asked for people to come to the altar for prayer, I felt
