“The Lottery Ticket” by Cecilia Pulliam

Years ago, when my kids were young, my husband was laid off from the job he held for eighteen years. His unemployment and my part time job were not enough to provide for all of our needs and financial obligations. The financial wolves were circling and looked as though they would get in and destroy everything we had worked for.

I thought about the lottery.  I didn’t desire, or dream of  millions, just a few thousand,  or several hundred.  I wouldn’t need to worry if I could buy groceries, or clothing, or gas, or any of the other necessities. .

I grabbed my purse and headed for the market. I passed by the dinning table. My Bible still lay there from my morning devotions. Overwhelmed by an urge to open it and read the first Scripture I saw, I stopped in mid-stride, set my purse down and  picked up my Beloved Book. It opened to the Book of Wisdom.  The words rose, lifting from the page – impossible ignore.

And if riches be desired in life, what is richer than wisdom, which maketh all things? Wisdom 8:5I have never bought a lottery ticket.Recently, with all the news reports about the super lottery winners, visions of a winning lottery ticket have returned. A hundred and twenty million. Wow. I could pay off my debts, my families debts, start numerous charities, and the list goes on and on.  However, all thoughts of the lottery vanished after the dream.

As with some of my other dreams (that have proven to be premonitions) all details are precise, clear, as if watching a movie or looking at a photograph. In this one, I was walking across the parking lot of our local grocery store. The wind was whipping up all kinds of debris, and a  small piece of paper hit the side of my face.  I peeled it from my cheek and glanced at it.  It was a lottery ticket – for that evening’s drawing. I clutched the paper, convinced it was The Winner.

I never made it into the store. Something knocked me out. When I opened my eyes I was lying on the ground. I had been struck by lightening and my precious ticket had been destroyed. Only black ash remained.

It was obvious, once again, that winning the lottery is not in God’s plan for my life. His plan is for me to trust Him, not wealth. I may hear wolves sniffing at the door, but they will not get in.  God has – and will- continue to provide enough for my basic existence (and often more) for as long as I walk this earth. There lies my wealth, far richer than anything the world can provide.