A Memory: The Dice

The human mind is an incredible thing. We are capable of, at any moment, recalling something that has happened to us, something that we have seen or heard, something that somebody told us. What a blessing it is to have this ability! So, because this is such an amazing gift, I want to share with you some memories that I have. They may sound kind of like a journal, but that's what a journal is, right? A way to preserve our memories.

So, here's the memory I've been thinking about today.

Statistics class, senior year. There were lots of people I knew from church in that class, and I had some good friends there, too. My teacher was kind of a jokester, unless you got on his bad side. He was very sarcastic and it was awesome to learn from him. Everyday was an adventure, with a new tale that somehow related to what we were learning about.

Being in statistics, probability came up, which is often associated with gambling. Now, I don't think gambling is a good thing, even if it's just playing with Cheerios instead of money. It's that appearance of evil (1 Thessalonians 5:22) that makes me so hesitant and unwilling to play. It just doesn't seem right.

Because I don't gamble, I don't remember what the name of this particular game was, but it involved the rolling of dice. I sat in the front row, and on this particular day, my teacher needed a volunteer to roll the dice to demonstrate probability through this game. So naturally, he called on me. I was kind of panicked. I didn't feel comfortable rolling the dice, even if it was just for a practice problem. It just didn't seem right.

So there I sat, my teacher's hand extending the dice to me. I softly said, "Not today." He just kind of looked at me and said, "Oh come on, just one roll," and extended his hand to me a little closer. That kind of sent alarm bells ringing in my head.* "No thanks," I said. He again just looked at me. After what seemed like forever, he said "Alright, who wants to," and turned around to offer the dice to the rest of the class.

It's just a memory now, but it's a memory I treasure. Why? Because I stood up for myself and what I believed in. I'm sure I astonished some of my friends, but I didn't mind so much what they thought, because I felt like I had done the right thing. And that's what really matters.

*Not to compare my teacher to Satan (he was nowhere near so evil), but that's how Satan entices us. "Oh come on, just one roll won't hurt, one cigarette won't kill you. One time isn't such a bad thing. You never know unless you try, right? You'll be in total control, don't you worry." These are just things he uses to tempt us and lead us to do bad things.