THE OLD CLOCK THAT STOPPED WORKING

A Devotion on Christ the Loving Healer

“‘I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten…’”
Joel 2:25 (NKJV)

On his mother’s dresser sat an old clock.
Not ticking. Not chiming.
Silent as long as he could remember.

When he was a boy, he often stared at it. Wondering.
Why did it sit there when it no longer kept time?
What story did it hold?

One evening, curiosity found its voice.
“Mother,” he asked softly, “where did that clock come from?”

Her eyes grew tender. She touched the polished wood.
“It was my wedding gift,” she whispered.
“From my father. He gave it with joy. It once played the sweetest song each hour. A melody that filled our home with gladness. But years passed… and it stopped.”

She never threw it away. Never hid it.
Though silent, it remained…a quiet witness on her dresser.

Time itself marched on.
Her hair turned silver.
Her steps slowed.
And one day, she slipped into eternity.

The son returned to her room, the air heavy with memory.
There, on the dresser, the clock waited.
He lifted it with careful hands.
The back creaked open. Inside was a folded piece of paper, yellowed with age.
His breath caught.

It was a note from his grandfather.
Simple words. Joyful words.
“Congratulations on your wedding. May this clock mark not just the passing of hours, but the beginning of a lifetime of love.”

Tears stung his eyes.
The clock was no longer just wood and gears.
It was legacy.
It was love.

He took it home, placed it on a shelf.
Yet each time he passed it, something tugged at his heart.
The silence felt wrong.
His little girl…her granddaughter…noticed too.
“Dad, why doesn’t it work?”

The father smiled, but it was a tender smile.
“It needs care. Gentle hands. Someone who knows how to heal what’s broken.”

And so… he carried it to the town’s best clockmaker.
An old man with bright eyes. Fingers that seemed to dance when they touched gears and springs.
He received the clock as though it were treasure.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “this one will live again.”

Days turned into weeks.
The craftsman polished the wood until it gleamed.
He oiled the gears with patience.
One by one, the pieces began to find their rhythm.
The pendulum swayed.
The wheels turned.
And at last, the melody returned.

The family gathered when it was brought home.
The old clock stood proudly on the shelf.
The hour struck, and music filled the room.
Not just notes, but memories.
Not just chimes, but legacy.

The father wept. His daughter clapped with delight.
Three generations touched in a single song.
Grandfather’s gift… mother’s treasure… now restored.

The clock had stopped, but it was not lost.
It had been waiting all along for loving hands to restore it.

Beloved, this clock is more than just a piece of furniture. It’s a parable. A sacred picture of every weary soul who feels like life has wound down and their song has gone silent.

How many hearts have stopped “ticking”?
How many lives seem frozen in grief or pain?
Once, there was joy. Once, there was music. But then… something broke.

Yet notice…the clock was not thrown away. It was kept, honored, preserved. It waited for the touch of the right hands.

That is exactly what Christ does with us.
He does not discard us when we no longer “work.”
He does not push us aside when we are silent.
He waits with patience. He holds us with care.

And in His time, with His gentle, masterful touch, He restores what is broken. He oils the dry places. He resets what has slipped out of rhythm. He makes the song rise again.

The old clock sang once more. Its chimes carried legacy across three generations. So too, when Christ heals your life, it isn’t just about you. It’s about your children. Your grandchildren. The generations yet to come. Your restoration becomes their inheritance.

Dear one, maybe today you feel like that clock…silent, forgotten, stuck. But the Master Clockmaker has not forgotten you. His hands are skilled. His love is sure. And His promise is this:

“I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten.”

Let Him take you in His hands. Let Him breathe life into the places that have stopped. Soon, you will hear the song again. Soon, your life will ring with a melody of grace, a testimony of love, a legacy of healing.

The clock had stopped, but it was never lost.
And neither are you.

With Love,
Steve Porter
www.morningglorydevo.com

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RESTING IN HIS PRESENCE
by Steve Porter

Finding Stillness, Renewal, and Intimacy with God

There comes a time when the noise of life grows too loud, when your soul aches for a quiet place. This book is a gentle hand leading you into that stillness. It is written for the weary, the burdened, and the hungry—those who long to breathe again in the presence of God.

Here you will not find formulas or quick answers. Instead, you’ll be invited to linger. To sit with the Lord as Brother Lawrence did in his kitchen. To learn from the stories of Walter Beuttler, Andrew Murray, and the praying sisters of the Hebrides. To catch the fire of past awakenings and allow their embers to stir your own heart.

Within these pages you will discover:
The beauty of tarrying at the altar.
How stillness becomes strength.
Why revival often begins with hidden prayer.
What it means to be fully at rest in Christ.

Every story, every devotion, is a quiet call to return. To put down the weight you’ve been carrying. To lay aside the pressure to perform. To simply be loved.

Resting in His Presence is not just another book to read—it is a place to meet Him.