Wayne, where you?

I can't sleep tonight. I keep thinking about Wayne. I never met Wayne, but I know his story. His niece told it to me. Wayne was the son of a man with a terribly debilitating dystrophy. Wayne watched his father dwindle and then die from the disease. He told his sisters, "I won't go like Dad did. I'll wait until Mom dies, but then when it gets too bad, I'll just blow my brains out. You won't know it's coming. I'll just be gone one day." A week ago, the mom died. Then, Monday, when Wayne's wife made a run to the store, Wayne went out to a beautiful spot away from the trailer on the family farm, under a pine tree, and did what he said he'd do. Wayne's sister, my friend's mom, said she never talked to him about the after life. She didn't see it coming so soon. She spoke to her mother, because that was a death they saw coming, but she didn't realize her brother was simply waiting for their mom to die, to honor her and to honor his own word.
The thing about Wayne is, while my friend was growing up, he covered much of the head of household needs for the family, because her father was an alcoholic. Uncle Wayne came over faithfully to help his sister raise her family, keep the farm going, shovel manure, bale hay, whatever was needed while the man of the house was sleeping off a binge, or starting one. My friend says happily that many of these family scars are long since healed. But her heart now aches wondering where Wayne will "be" in the after life. Funny, but last Thursday, God put this Psalm on my heart. I remembered it and gave it to her today:
Who may worship in your sanctuary, Lord?
Who may enter your presence on your holy hill?
Those who lead blameless lives and do what is right,
Speaking the truth from sincere hearts.
Those who refuse to gossip or harm their neighbors
or speak evil of their friends.
Those who despise flagrant sinners,
and honor the faithful followers of the Lord,
and keep their promises even when it hurts.
Those who lend money without charging interest,
and who cannot be bribed to lie about the innocent.
Such people will stand firm forever. (Psalm 15)

Dear God...Wayne was the epitome of the person in this Psalm. My friend's tears when she read it confirm my assertion. What will You do with all the other Wayne's? I know there must be so many others.
He lived in a trailer very near the town where I was born. In fact, his niece (my friend) jokingly claims her whole family to be classic "trailer trash." That very town was struck within the last year by a devastating tornado. It came in the dark of night, when no one noticed the alerts being broadcast. And the worst damage was done to a trailer park. Completely level when the tornado was finished. One of my kids told me, "Mom, you know how the saying goes, 'A tornado is the Devil whistling.' " Dear God, this is also my birth town, the place I first became a viable part of this world. What do You want me to do for the Wayne's, for the trailer trash that nonetheless walk in nobility, despite life's injustice. What do You want me to do for them when the Devil whistles forces up against them?