I hate slot machines for the sole reason that they give artificial hope in something so fleeting.
May we give little power to hope in a new house or a new phone; let us be excited about change and new “things”, but such things have no business messing with Hope. We feed these slot machines in our lives- always hoping to win the jackpot, the right college, the nicest car.
I often place Hope where it need not belong. Hope belongs in the story that we are writing with our Maker. Hope is for community- that all may taste love in true community that is sweeter than three cherries lining up in a row. Hope is for the day that I can see the face of my Maker void of how I have sculpted Him out to be; Hope to see Him without the snarl of anger or the eyes of intoxication. Hope in heaven, but also Hope in the grace that appears in the meantime.
Our Hope is found in Him, nothing else could ever compare to it. I see this desire for Hope in the eyes of the greedy and the broken. All I want is for this world to taste and see real Hope. If it were up to me, I would destroy all slot machines, but if they must stay, at least get them out of the Las Vegas Airport.
