Is God Sovereign and Good? Finding Answers Amidst Camp Mystic and the Texas Hill Country Flood
“When you go through a trial, the sovereignty of God is the pillow upon which you lay your head.”
Reading the headlines since the Fourth of July has been gut-wrenching. Having visited the Texas Hill Country, I can’t wrap my mind around the level of devastation and loss of life.
One of the most disturbing details was the flooding of Camp Mystic—where more than 700 children were staying. It was not just any youth camp; it was a Christian youth camp.
Repeatedly, I’ve asked, Why, Lord? Why would You take the innocent—those who were gathered to praise You? Why would you allow the water to rise so rapidly, and at night?
The verse that consistently comes to mind is this:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
If you know me, you know I’m not satisfied with this, and what comes next is me pressing God for more. Trusting God’s goodness doesn’t mean I don’t wrestle with His sovereignty. I want to understand why He allows for this level of suffering.
Could it be that what we see as tragedy is witnessed as grace on the other side?
In this life, we carry the weight of loss, the heartache of missing our loved ones—but do they only experience peace, joy, and perfect love in its fullness when they step into heaven? I imagine they do, and assuming it is true, why do we question when they leave?
Earlier this year, I came across the story of Dr. Takashi Nagai, a Japanese Christian doctor residing in Nagasaki during World War II. On August 9, 1945, the United States dropped the atomic bomb intended for Kokura. Due to cloud cover, the B-29 re-routed to Nagasaki, a city historically known as the heart of Japanese Christianity.
The bomb was dropped directly over St. Mary’s Cathedral, and it killed an estimated 70,000 people.
At the time of the bombing, Dr. Nagai was near the blast at a local hospital. Most of his colleagues were killed instantly, but he survived. Two days later, he made it home to discover his wife, Madori, had been incinerated in the blast. He had lost everything.
Why would God allow the bomb to destroy a rare Christian city in Japan?
Dr. Nagai’s response to the devastation was not one of bitterness or blame. It was one of sacrificial faith:
“It was not the American crew, I believe, who chose our suburb. God’s providence chose Urakami and carried the bomb right above our homes. Is there not a profound relationship between the annihilation of Nagasaki and the end of the war? Was not Nagasaki the chosen victim, the lamb without blemish, slain as a whole-burnt offering on an altar of sacrifice, atoning for the sins of all the nations during World War II?
Only this holocaust in Nagasaki sufficed, and at that moment God inspired the Emperor to issue the sacred proclamation that ended the war. The Christian flock of Nagasaki was true to the faith through three centuries of persecution. During the recent war, it prayed ceaselessly for a lasting peace. Here was the one pure lamb that had to be sacrificed as a holocaust on His altar… so that many millions of lives might be saved.”
What would your response be—to losing your community, your home, your spouse, and the life you once knew?
Dr. Takashi Nagai responded with the greatest respect for God’s sovereignty. He viewed his suffering not as abandonment by God, but as part of a greater redemptive purpose.
My reconciliation of this event, and anytime life is taken too soon, is that God must truly love them. He chose to spare them the continued struggles we experience here in this broken world so that they could be at peace in heaven. This is God’s grace.
What does it mean for those left behind? Are we loved any less? Of course not.
It means we live with the sacrifice. Like Dr. Nagai, we remain as living testimonies—symbols of strength meant to glorify God through our suffering. God gave His only Son for us, and when we endure loss—a child, a spouse, anyone we hold dear—we share in that suffering. We also share in His redemption; He will not waste our pain.
Psalm 34:18 reminds us, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” This verse reminds us that our sorrow is seen and that in the hands of a sovereign God, it will be used for His glory.
Talk to anyone who has walked through deep hardship and leaned into God, and you’ll see it: profound resilience, quiet strength, and unmistakable evidence of His presence. You’ll see the pain—but you’ll also see unwavering faith.
What is God’s purpose in the Texas Hill Country flood? Why would He allow a Christian youth camp like Camp Mystic to be swept away? Unfortunately, my earthly perspective doesn’t see the full picture—and probably never will this side of heaven.
What do I know?
I know God is sovereign, even when there is pain, and I trust He is still good, even when life is lost.
If you are grieving or suffering, know God sees you and loves you. Your pain is not in vain, but in glory.
Godspeed, my friend.
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“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
