Over four years ago I had a horrible nightmare about my sister Patsy. I dreamed an evil person stepped out the shadows and before she realized he was there, thrust a knife through her heart. I had no idea at the time just how prophetic that dream was to be. None of us at the time realized just how far and devastating the arm of evil would reach.
|Barry Mayo |
February 20, 1986
March 5, 2007
A short time later we received the news that her precious grandson, Barry had been murdered in Iraq. Indeed evil had reached its hand all around the world and pierced her heart. While we remember everyday and grief with them, we are totally inept in taking that pain of loss from Barry’s Mom Kimberly and Grandmother Patsy. Only the God of All Comfort can do that.
There are countless numbers of relatives and friends who miss him. I am sure many, as I do, often wonder what could of, should have, would have, possibly been for his life had it not been cut so short. I will never fully understand the why of many things in this life. Often things seem unfair or unjust. Nothing seems good from his death, but we know Barry was a good young man.
I learned this week through Paul that lack of gratitude is a sin. We as individuals and as a nation do not always have a heart of gratitude. We are too often self centered and ungrateful. We should never forget or take for granted the young men and women who have willingly sacrificed their lives for our country’s freedom.
|Greeting Soldier Home|
More than once I have prayed how to honor Barry’s memory. First and foremost we must never forget his live or his service to our country. We must be grateful every day for all things God has given us. We must live a life of honor worthy of these gifts. We must never forget the evil that lies in wait for all of us and pray for God’s mightier hand of protection.
I believe these are some things Barry might agree with. What I do know is Barry wants for nothing. I find myself thinking of Barry when I check the mail each day. I have to think he is checking Heaven’s gate everyday, expecting and looking for those he loves to join him at his palace.
"A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more."