My mother told me a story about her paternal grandmother that reflects that. When my gradfather (her son) was diagnosed with stomach cancer and told he had 6 months to live, his mother went into her room and had a 'come to Jesus' meeting with the Man himself. My grandmother heard her outside the door telling Jesus and his Mother to sit down because she wanted to have a talk with them. She told them that her George was a good boy and that he had little children and it wasn't time for him to go. She told them if they wanted somebody, they should take her instead. Well about a year later, Grandaddy was fine, but his mother had died. He lived long enough for the baby of the family to have gotten up and grown and died in 1950 at the age of 58, three years before I was born.
Ah, the power of intercessory prayer, or at least persistence in this case.
Our Pastor told this story recently in a sermon.
An old man was dying and the family called the minister in to talk with him about his spiritual condition. The minister visited the old gentleman in his bedroom and noticed a very ornate chair sitting over to one side. But it looked as if no one ever sat there. The minister asked about the chair.
The old gentleman said, "I'm a very visual person. I don't have much education. So when I talk to the Master, I imagine Him sitting there in the chair."
The minister left and on his way out told the family they need not worry about the old man's spiritual condition. A few days later the minister received a call that the old man had passed.
"How did you find him?" asked the minister.
"It was the strangest thing. He had gotten out of his bed and was on the floor. But his head was in the chair..."