One fall afternoon, my grandfather was at home with my grandmother and heard a knock on the door. The visitor was a neighbor lady who said to my grandfather, "I was out feeding the horses, and I felt like God was prompting me to come and say thank you for the difference you've made in my life."

She sat down and began to tell stories about times when my grandfather had been merciful to her as a widow and cared for the cows and horses and done all of kinds of practical things. She thanked him for being so real. She went through this litany of good deeds, including bringing peace in relationships with some of her children. She finished with, "I just felt like God wanted me to tell you that."

My grandfather paused and looked at her and said, "It was the Lord Jesus Christ who did it."

There was another pause, and my grandmother struck up a conversation with this lady. A few seconds later they heard a cough and saw my grandfather slumped over. He was with Jesus.

My grandfather's last words were, "It was the Lord Jesus Christ who did it."