Our clock just wouldn’t tick. A clock that won’t tick is not much good, so away I went to take it to Mr. Sproule the watchmaker. He put a strange glass over one eye and peered inside.
“I can fix it. Come back in one week.”
But all clocks are not so easily fixed. Let me tell you a strange story of a watchmaker. He went from home to home with his tools, and as he worked he would sing and talk to any who would listen to the wonderful love of Jesus.
“Good morning, madam. Have you any clocks here that need repairs?”
“Yes, sir. We have a beautiful clock that just won’t tick. But I know you can’t fix it, as it has never worked since it came from France, and ever so many have tried to make it go. I wish it would, for they tell me it used to chime at the quarter and half hours, and that every hour it played a beautiful melody on the bells in this little tower on the top. But I have never once heard it.”
“May I be allowed to try my hand at it?” he asked. “I think I can put it in order.”
“If you do succeed,” she replied, “we shall call it a miracle; although,” she added in an undertone, “none of us believe in miracles, or in God.”
“I am so sorry to hear that, dear lady,” was the grave reply.
Soon the watchmaker began to take the clock to pieces. The lady remarked that she had so often seen the pieces that she thought she could put it tether herself. While the work proceeded, he told her what God had done for him. In his early years he had lived without God. When he had been brought to know the Lord Jesus as his Saviour, he had been blessed and cared for in all things to the present moment.
When each bit of the works had been examined and cleaned and oiled, he prepared to put all in place, and asked if he might be allowed to follow his usual habit and sing a hymn while doing so. The lady pleasantly said she would like to hear him sing, and a song of faith and thanksgiving arose to the Lord in that godless dwelling.
When all was finished, he ceased singing, and said, “Now you shall hear chimes and carillon. This clock is a wonderwork of art.”
“Ah,” she replied, “others have said so, but no one has yet been able to prove it.”
He touched the pendulum, but the movement stopped when his hand was withdrawn. The lady asked if some part of the works was perhaps missing.
“No,” he said, “all is in perfect order; but I will pray to my God and Saviour to show me where the fault is, and how to remedy it. He will hear me.”
“Do not give yourself so much trouble,” she said. But without waiting for permission, the man of faith knelt and laid the matter simply before Him to whom all power belongs. He asked that, for the glory of His own name, and the sake of His beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, the request for wisdom and skill might be granted.
He rose from his knees. She asked him how he could think that a God whom he believed to be the Maker of the universe could occupy Himself with such trifles.
“Madam,” he replied with warmth, “we read in the Bible, the words of Jesus Himself, that not even a sparrow falls to the ground without His will, and the very hairs of our heads are all numbered.”
He then took his leave asking to be allowed to return early the following morning to make a further attempt.
The rest may be told in his own words: “Twilight was coming on as I took my lonesome way across the fields which led to my temporary home. My heart was filled with thanksgiving to the Lord, Maker of heaven and earth, my Saviour and Redeemer.
“Suddenly my thoughts turned to that clock. I thought of each piece I had handled, and then suddenly rembered one little part which had probably never been touched by any of those who had tried to make the clock run. I praised God for reminding me of this.
“The next morning early I returned to the house. The lady was waiting on the veranda. She greeted me and led the way to the clock. The extra works were soon taken out, cleaned, and replaced. I touched the pendulum, and with a measured ‘tick-tock’ the clock went on, as though it had never stood still. We sat awhile in silence. The third quarter chimed; when the hour ended, the bells in the tower rang out a merry carillon. At length the lady spoke: ‘I can hardly believe my eyes and ears; but if your God has heard your prayer and helped you do this, I too will believe in Him, and bow before Him.’
“And this through His grace she has done. And her whole household, one after another, has been brought to know the Saviour, and to live to serve Him.
“I have visited the family for many years in my journeys to and fro. Together we have praised Him who came to seek and to save the lost, and then have gone on our several ways rejoicing in His love.”
Yes, young reader, God watches the sparrows; He knows the hairs of your head, and He loves you. He wants you now to bow and own before Him that you are a sinner, and He wants you to accept His dear Son, the Lord Jesus, as your Saviour.
ML 07/25/1954