My God is bigger than the Bingo god

I spent the past week in Blind River, a community of about 3000 in a peaceful part of Northern Ontario. It was great! No internet, no television, choppy cell phone service and some of the most beautiful tracts of nature to fall within a friendly community.
Every Thursday evening in Blind River the local Legion Ladies Auxiliary holds its charity Bingo. Given that all my co-workers are ladies who enjoy playing Bingo, they invited me to join them. I purchased the smallest Bingo card package at the door and my supervisor passed me a bingo dabber.
“Make sure you turn the cap upside down,” she said. “It brings bad luck to the table if turns right side up.”
I glanced around me. Sure enough, everyone’s cap was upside down. I had only been to a Bingo once before in my life — about fifteen years ago — but I found this superstition ridiculous. Thus I grabbed my bingo dabber cap, turned it right side up, and slammed it down on the table.
Everyone around me gasped. “You’ll bring bad luck to the table,” they protested.
“I’m Catholic. My God trumps the god of Bingo.”
The ladies just kinda stared at me for a moment, then went back to helping me get set up and play.
Throughout the evening, everyone at my table won a small Bingo pot except me. So our table was pretty lucky and my coworkers began to doubt this Bingo superstition.
Then came one of the last games of the evening with one of the largest pots. My supervisor said: “I have a feeling Pete is going to win this. If that happens, I will put all my caps right side up from now on.”
I sorta laughed it off. I hadn’t invoked God’s name in the gamble, but against this silly Bingo superstition. Well God showed everyone that He wasn’t bound by which way a dabber cap stood. I won the Bingo pot.