A Ticking Clock, Death and the Supernatural

“And I heard a voice from heaven saying,

‘Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’

‘Blessed indeed,’ says the Spirit, 

‘that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!'”

–Revelation 14:13

My last surviving grandparent, my maternal grandfather, passed nearly three weeks ago.

He’s always kept a mantel clock on his roll top desk which he had inherited from his mother, and which now I have inherited. It’s one of those old ones which has a key to wind it up, but it had not been working at all for a very long time. A couple days after his passing, I was in my grandpa’s study with my mom. It was then that I suddenly noticed the clock ticking.

I said to my mom, “Oh, did you fix the clock?” but even as I asked the question, my gaze fell upon the key, still dusty and unmoved from the last place my grandpa had left it.

Mom stood still for a moment and heard the ticking too. “I didn’t fix it,” my mom answered, “Maybe your dad or your sister did.”

When I asked my sister about it later, she looked surprised. My dad came out of grandpa’s office and commented, “That clock ticks and it even chimes now too!”

“But I didn’t touch it, and no one else did either!” I said with bewilderment.

My dad smiled and shrugged, “It’s a Christmas miracle…in July.”

I googled what could cause an old clock to start working again inexplicably. Some answers vaguely alluded to someone bumping it, which would not account for all the times it had been bumped by my grandpa sitting at his desk. However, I was interested to discover that many people had the same experience of broken clocks miraculously working again just before or just after a death in the household. The most common answer to my google search was something supernatural, weirdly enough.

I don’t think of myself as superstitious, and as a Christian I don’t believe in ghosts. However when I saw that the clock was working again I felt a spark of joy. I had wanted to have the clock fixed anyway and I knew in my heart that this was a gift from God.

My mom said, “It’s God reminding us that life doesn’t stop with death. The clock keeps ticking into eternity.”

When I think of my grandparents, I think of Romans 10:14-15:

How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!”

My grandma preceded grandpa into heaven ten months prior to his death. As a couple they dedicated their lives to humanitarian efforts and had served with Wycliffe Bible Translators for forty years. Their deepest passion was for sharing the gospel and making sure everyone had access to scripture in their own native language. I’ll be forever grateful to my grandparents for teaching me to respect and understand other cultures. They will always inspire to be brave, resourceful, resilient and adventurous.

According to my mother, however, my grandparents’ main foible was a subconscious belief that their value was tied into how much they could do for God. They had a strong tendency to be so engrossed in ministry that they forgot to prioritize relationships and the individual needs of their children. In that way they were classic “people of their time.” It was only in the final years of my grandfather’s life that he came to understand in his heart that his value is inherent: God loves him just for who he is.

Flawed though they were, they paved the way for the next generation of Christians to utilize their gifts and abilities to further the gospel and spread the message of hope. They empowered and equipped believers from all different ethnic groups all around the world. Although they were imperfect parents, they raised my wonderful mother who God has also used powerfully. Amith and grandpa, despite both the generational and cultural gaps, were very close. I saw the beauty of the love of Jesus drawing them together as members of one family in Christ. Both my grandparents loved us very much and were always very supportive of Amith and me in our endeavors. I know Amith and I will cherish their memory in our hearts as long as we live.

Like the little boy who brought his tiny fish and loaves of bread, my grandparents brought their workaholic, emotionally-constipated selves and through them God cultivated love in abundance. I find joy and comfort in knowing that I don’t have to be perfect for God to work through me in amazing ways.

Grandpa’s last Bible study series was on Revelations, which seems very appropriate. Like Revelations 14:13 says, I love to think of my grandparents resting from their labors and enjoying the presence of God. Their good deeds will follow them, and impact generations long after they’ve been long forgotten. The clock will keep ticking, and the family of God will flourish.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life.”

–John 5:24