The Million Dollar Machine - By Ray Comfort
After Kirk got some chickens, I was flooded with joy-filled memories of collecting fresh eggs back in New Zealand, before we moved to the States. After some reasoning with my loving wife, we now have five chickens. I love them, and I've even give them their own names: Crispy, Tender, Finger-lickin, Original and Roast. I printed their names out and put them on the wall of their coop to help them to remember why they were part of our happy family.
Chickens remind me of myself. Whenever I have someone turn down a tract, the tenderness of my flesh becomes very evident. Rejection cuts to the bone. But I have found that there is something I can do about my tenderness. I get into the mindset of being a pre-programmed machine. I say to myself, "I am a machine. I am pre-programmed to have a love and concern for the lost. Fear has no part of me. Rejection bounces off me. I am a machine."
After the Secret Service seized our Million Dollar Bill tract in Texas early in June of 2006, and then took a supply from a brother with Muscular Dystrophy as he passed them out from his wheelchair in Las Vegas, my appreciation deepened for the fact that the tract had helped me to be like a machine. Our ministry has about seventy different titles of tracts, but for me the Million Dollar Bill is number one, and the thought of losing my first love made my heart grow fonder. So I decided to have one blown up and put on the wall of our ministry, as a kind of trophy or (if the Secret Police had their way) a fond memorial.
As I walked though the store, I handed them to different people who were standing by printers and computers. No rejections. Not one. As usual, the recipients looked startled for a moment, then laughed and made jokes about how they could now quit work.
As I stood at the counter two females (in their early 20's) lined up behind me. I was pre-programmed. I turned around and with a friendly voice said, "Hello. Did you get your million?"
"Huh?"
"It's a million dollars. It's great when you get the change."
"Thanks."
I followed up with a Department of Annoyance card for each of them and said, "This is where I'm from--'The Department of Annoyance.'"
One of them laughed. The other for some reason handed the card to her friend and clutched her million. So I gave her a "Smart Card" and said, "Don't give this one away."
She looked at it and said, "I am a good person."
"There's a four question test you can do to see if that's true. Let's do it. Have you ever told a lie?"
"Yes."
"What does that make you?"
"A liar."
"Have you ever stolen something?"
"No. Never."
She had used God's name in vain, but she maintained that she had never lusted. Not once.
"You've never looked at a guy with sexual desire, with lust? You have a pure heart?"
Suddenly another woman arrived at the counter and said, "Whatcha talking about?"
I handed her a bill.
Miss Pureheart said, "Lust. You know, when you look at a guy, and you know . . . ."
It turned out that she had lusted for her boyfriend before they got together, and that she went to church but wasn't born again. I told her to read the rest of the tract.
I then noticed that three more women were standing behind me. One of them was staring at me so I gave her my last Million Dollar Bill, and apologized to her friend that she didn't get one. She gave an understanding smile.
Then the lady in front of her indignantly said, "How come you passed me by?"
I apologized to her also, and told her that there had been a run on the bank, but that there was a reserve supply in my van. I turned back to the counter and placed the order for the banner for my favorite tract.
Behind me I could hear the woman who had the bill begin reading it out loud--"Have you ever told a lie, stolen anything, or used God's name in vain?"
Then a heated discussion began, "You do that!"
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
"I do not use God's name in vain!"
"You do! All the time."
"Okay then, so do you!"
I smiled as I listened to them, then finished ordering the banner and went out to my van.
Suddenly there was a loud honk. It was Mrs. Indignant. She wanted her Million Dollar Bill! I grabbed three or four and a "What Hollywood Believes" CD and handed them to her through her car window. She was ecstatic.
When they were preparing a deposition against the Federal Government for seizing private property without a warrant, our lawyers asked me how many copies of the tract I had personally given out. I gave a conservative estimate that to that point it was around 30,000. It was then that I realized how much this little tract had helped me conquer my fears. It took millions to change me from a chicken into a machine. So I'm going to hold onto my millions like a stubborn rich man in an unarmed robbery, and if the Federal Government do take them from me, God-willing, they're going to have a fight on their hands, right up to the Supreme Court.