A Million Blessings. Angela Benson
“Don’t you think we should have talked about this?”
She closed the book, put it on the nightstand, and then sat up in the bed. “I sent them away because we need to have a serious talk about this marriage and our family. The bottom line is that I can’t keep going through this with you. You promised me the last time that it wouldn’t happen again. Yet here we are.”
He came to the bed and sat facing her. “I know I’ve let you down,” he said. “But I’m going to fix this. I have a plan—”
She began shaking her head. “Not another plan. Andrew, you need help. Professional help. I believed you before when you said you could stop. I don’t any longer. You’re destroying this family. Can’t you see that?”
Andrew shook his head, refusing to believe God would let him lose the only thing that mattered to him—his family. He took his wife’s hands in his. “Trust me one last time,” he pleaded. “And if you can’t trust me, trust God. Expect a miracle with me, Sandra.”
He saw the wariness in her eyes. “What have you done, Andrew?” she asked. “What kind of miracle are you expecting?”
“I want you to look for a miracle that only God can provide.”
She laughed a dry laugh. “I guess you want me to believe that God is going to drop money from heaven for us the way he dropped manna for the Israelites.”
“That’s exactly what I want you to believe,” he said.
She pulled her hands away. “Come on, Andrew. You should know by now that God doesn’t work that way. That’s how we got in this situation in the first place. You’re always looking for the big score, instead of building slowly. You need to change the way you operate.”
Andrew reached for her hands again. “Okay, if this doesn’t turn out the way I believe it will, we’ll try it your way.”
She squinted at him. “What have you done, Andrew? What scheme are you working on now? Please don’t tell me you’ve borrowed money so that you can gamble.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “This deal only cost me two dollars.”
“Two dollars? What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
“I had a vision,” he said, taking a bit of leeway with the truth. “In that vision God told me to play the lottery this week and he gave me the numbers to play.”
Sandra snatched her hands away and jumped up from the bed. “That’s the last straw, Andrew. Now you’ve started lying on God. You know as well as I do that God did not give you any lottery numbers. Have you lost your mind?”
Her words hurt, but he brushed them off as best he could. God was not going to let him down. He could feel it.
“If playing the lottery is your way of getting us out of the hole you’ve put us in, we’re in more trouble than I wanted to believe. I think it’s best that I go stay with my parents and the kids and give you some time to figure out what you want from us and what you’re willing to give. We can’t build a future for our family on a lottery scheme. We don’t even believe in the lottery.”
Andrew glanced at his watch. “Turn on the television,” he said.
When she just rolled her eyes, he reached on the far-side nightstand, picked up the remote, and turned it on himself. “They should be announcing the lottery results in a few minutes. Believe with me.”
“I believe you’ve lost your mind,” she said. “That’s what I believe.”
He pulled the two lottery tickets out of his pocket and handed them to her. “You hold the tickets,” he said. “I’m too nervous.”
Grudgingly, she took the tickets and sat down next to him on the bed. “I don’t believe I’m doing this,” she said. “Pastor McCorry would fall out of the pulpit if he knew his assistant pastor was at home waiting for the lottery numbers to be announced, rather than at church teaching his Bible study class.”
Pulling her close, Andrew chuckled. “There was no way I could teach tonight. I’m too anxious about the lottery results.”
“How much is the lottery for this week anyway?” Sandra asked.
“Not much,” he said. “About twenty million.”
She laughed out loud. “Sounds like a lot to me.”
He laughed, too. “It’s a lot to us but not for the lottery. It’s not like it’s one of those hundred million dollar weeks when everybody plays. This is an average-sized jackpot.”
She peered up at him. “You know, it bothers me that you know so much about the lottery. Something tells me this isn’t the first time you’ve played.”
“Watch the television,” he said. “They’re about to call the numbers.”
She did as she was told. “Here,” she said to him. “You hold one and I’ll hold one.”
He took his. His heart began to sink as the announcer read the numbers. He hadn’t won. He glanced over at Sandra, and from the look on her face he gathered she hadn’t, either. He couldn’t believe it. He’d been so sure God was going to come through for him.
“We’ll just play the numbers again next week,” he said. “We can’t give up now. I really believe in these numbers.” When his wife didn’t respond, he looked down at her and saw she was crying. Her tears broke his heart. “I’m sorry, Sandra,” he said. “I’ll fix this. I promise I will.”
Sandra began shaking her head, and then she began to laugh. Andrew wondered if her disappointment had made her delirious. He grew uneasy as her laughter grew and she threw herself at him. “We won, Andrew,” she said. “We won the lottery!”
Chapter 4
“We won,” Sandra screamed, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck. “We won.” She hopped up from the bed, pulling him with her. “We’re rich,” she said, dancing him around the room. “We’re rich.”
Andrew stopped dancing, forcing her to stop, and looked down into her eyes. “I told you I wouldn’t let you down,” he said. “I told you.”
She pressed a hand against his cheek. She loved her six-foot chocolate drop, warts and all. “I know you did, baby, and you came through for me and this family. I never should have doubted you.”
He turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “You never should have doubted God,” he said. “When a door closes, He opens a window. We just have to look for it.”
“It really is a gift from God, isn’t it?” she asked.
“You bet it is,” Andrew confirmed. “Man couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. God had to do it.”
Sandra lifted her arms heavenward. “I’m so happy I could shout it to the world.” She reached for the phone on the nightstand. “I have to call Momma and Daddy. They won’t believe it. Then we have to call Pastor McCorry and Vickie.” She glanced back at her husband. “You know we’re going to have to tithe this money, don’t you?”
Andrew grabbed her hand before she could dial and forced the phone back on the cradle. She looked up at him. “What are you doing?”
He sat on the side of the bed and pulled her down with him. “Think about it, Sandra. What are you going to tell your parents? What are you going to tell Pastor and Vickie?”
“I’m going to tell them God blessed us to win the lottery.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re going to tell Pastor ‘Lottery means Hell’ McCorry that God blessed us to win the lottery? I don’t think so.”
Sandra