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Today's Christian, July/August 1997
Gambling With My Life
In 1996, Americans spent roughly $500 billion on legal gambling. But money is just the beginning of the losses.
by Maxi Chambers
I pushed the last of my red chips toward the dealer and tried to smile. But as he slowly turned over the cards, I knew I'd lost the last of the $10,000 I'd borrowed in desperation.
"Better luck next time!" the dealer shouted, trying to cheer me up. I quickly turned so he wouldn't see the tears streaming down my face. I was $30,000 in debt, my twenty-year marriage was nearly destroyed, and my four children no longer trusted me. I'd hit rock bottom.
The casino's neon lights shone brightly in the midnight sky as I left to get into my car. I turned back for one final look at a building that represented my obsession during the past three years. I finally realized what I'd become—a compulsive gambler.
Three years ago, my faith and family had been the most important things in my life. An elected city council member, successful owner of a hairstyling business, and activist who organized youth groups and volunteered at the local schools, I was well known for my boldness in proclaiming Christ. But I'd abandoned God's input in my life and pushed my husband and children aside so I could indulge my addiction.
As I drove the fifty miles home, I wept uncontrollably. All the excuses I'd used to justify my habit seemed lame. There were no more people or banks to borrow from, no more words to use to manipulate my husband. I begged God to forgive me, to help me overcome a compulsion that to me had become more important than him.
My addiction began with a simple game of bingo. I won $500. It seemed so effortless! Since my husband, David, and I had been having some financial problems, the money enabled us to pay some bills. When I told David about my winnings, he seemed equally happy.
Even though I was a Christian, I didn't realize gambling was wrong. I'd never heard a sermon preached against it, other than a few words by a former minister who warned against "playing too much lottery." Since I viewed myself as a disciplined person, I didn't think I'd ever have a problem.
Over the course of a year, what began as a once-a-week activity developed into an almost every-night event. David, who worked long hours, didn't realize the extent of my involvement, but my children, ages eighteen, seventeen, fourteen, and twelve, did. I'd vow not to go the following week, but my promises were always forgotten.
If my guilt became too intense, I'd rationalize: Don't I deserve a night away from the kids? Besides, if David didn't work so much, I probably wouldn't be doing this.
Winning made me lose
As my playing increased, so did my debt. At first, I asked David for money to gamble with, but he began to object. To get him to give me the money, I'd make him feel guilty about working so much. If that didn't work, I'd use the promise of sex or I'd lash out in anger. Eventually, David handed over the money, a hundred here, two hundred there. Bills went unpaid—yet I gambled on.
David was ashamed and hurt by my behavior, so he withdrew almost completely from our home. This only intensified my loneliness.
I started looking for other forms of "hitting it big." I frequented a nearby Indian reservation casino. Every trip to the grocery store, I'd spend twenty or thirty dollars on lottery tickets. At bingo, I'd not only play the regular games but spend hundreds of dollars on "pull-tabs." Once I spent more than
$400 for the chance to win $250.
A hundred here. Two hundred there.
Bills went unpaid—yet I gambled on.
David became increasingly agitated about my habit, so I began borrowing money from friends and acquaintances, always providing them with a good reason why I needed the money. They lent it to me without question. But while they were congenial, David was not. Almost every evening he came home was filled with angry words, promises, and tears.
My sisters and parents stepped in to fill the void in my children's lives. But each of my children showed signs of emotional wounding. Our oldest child became withdrawn, our second son rebellious. Our two youngest children cried often and became severely depressed.
Because I often gambled away the money intended for necessities, they went without new shoes, clothes, or even sometimes a warm meal. I delayed each purchase until the bitter end, hoping to win the money to buy whatever they needed.
Two years into my gambling, I began to feel suicidal. I cried constantly, seldom slept, and didn't know a single minute of mental peace. My doctor treated me with both tranquilizers for sleep and antidepressant medications.
Even though my life was a mess, I still maintained the persona of a successful, ethical person. Local merchants who ordinarily wouldn't cash checks did so for me because of my reputation. But as the checks became larger and my losses greater, I started funneling the money I needed from my hairstyling business. Since the checking account was only in my name, I could manipulate money to cover my spending without David's knowledge.
My sisters and family finally confronted me. "You have a problem. Please get some help," they pleaded.
"I'll go with you to Gamblers Anonymous," said another.
I knew my family was right, but not only did I not want to stop gambling, I feared the consequences of facing my creditors.
During the last few months of my gambling, a riverboat casino came to a nearby town. I quickly became a regular. As my debts mounted, I thought of suicide constantly.
By this time, I had written checks for $2,000 more than I had in my account. I knew that if I didn't find some money fast, I could go to jail. David refused to give me any more. We had signed for two loans from different banks, and he had on at least two occasions sought out money from professional loan sharks. I didn't dare ask him for anything.
Instead, I called a local savings and loan company and convinced them to allow me to apply for $10,000 over the phone and then take the loan papers to David to sign. David never saw those papers—I forged his name and used the money to cover what I'd already spent.
Cutting my losses
As I drove home after losing the last of the $10,000, I cried out to God, knowing I could either give in to suicide or choose life. I chose to stop my behavior.
I knew this meant having to confess what I didn't want to. And it meant facing the full extent of my family's anger. But I felt the first inklings of peace since my addiction had begun.
The next morning, I cleaned the house of anything that suggested gambling. I also sat down with my checkbook, totaled my damages, and approached my extended family with one final request for a loan. They gave me a small amount of money that gave me some breathing room for a few more days.
The following day, I began to shake from withdrawal. Even the thought of gambling made me anxious. I needed to keep busy, so I contacted my pastor, confessed what was happening, and asked if I could do some volunteer work for the church.
I asked my children for their forgiveness, reassuring them that with God's help, I could overcome my compulsive behavior. I knew my actions would have to prove my words.
Almost two weeks passed. I had to tell David about the $10,000.
"David," I said. "I have something to tell you."
I could see his body tense. I began to cry as I said, "You have every reason to divorce me. No one would have put up with what you've endured over the last three years. There are no excuses for what I'm about to tell you." Then I told him about the $10,000 and the forgery.
David wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. This time I didn't cry alone. David and I wept for the pain we both had endured, for our children, for turning to our own lusts for money and self-satisfaction instead of to God.
God didn't instantly deliver me from my urge to gamble. For weeks, it constantly filled my thoughts. I dreamed about playing bingo or standing in a casino. Even to this day, I awake in a cold sweat from these nightmares. But the dreams come less often now. Thankfully, I'm no longer on any drugs.
I no longer avoid church out of fear of
feeling guilty, or refuse to pick up the
Word for fear I'll read something too convicting.
God didn't send thousands of dollars to solve my financial crisis, nor did he wipe away the balance due my creditors. What he did was send some unexpected work my way and give me the assurance that everything would work together for good. Although God forgives, we reap what we sow—and I've had to suffer the repercussions of my misconduct.
While David tried his best to pretend my gambling hadn't affected our marriage, it had. In February of 1996, we divorced.
Feeling isolated and abandoned, I had a short relapse before joining Gamblers Anonymous, where I found the support to help me through until I could stand on my own. My subsequent recovery has been a slow, pain-staking process.
My three sons have chosen to live with their father, and my daughter and I live in the same area a short distance away, so we're able to see each other every day.
I'm learning what caused my addiction and how to resist the temptation that's constantly around me. And my relationship with God is growing. I no longer avoid church out of fear of feeling guilty, nor do I refuse to pick up the Word for fear I'll read something too convicting. Now God's Word convicts, comforts, and confirms my hope that through Christ, I can overcome.
I recently walked by a newsstand and glanced at the newspaper headline: "Gambling Blamed for Young Mother's Suicide." I couldn't help but cry as I read the details of this young woman's story. I knew her desperation and pain, the intense sorrow and shame she'd felt.
Gambling—and the potential it carries to destroy lives—is all too familiar to me. But there is hope for those who seek it. And as my children and I continue the healing process, I know God can restore what was destroyed as I totally depend on him.
Condensed from Today's Christian Woman (November/December 1996), © 1996 Maxi Chambers. Used by permission. The names of the author and her ex-husband have been changed.
Copyright © 1997 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine (formerly Christian Reader).
Click here for reprint information.
July/August 1997, Vol. 35, No. 4, Page 69
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