In August 2015, I attended a conference in Lusaka where the key note was given by Voddie Baucham. He entitled his sermon Death and Deliverance. It is probably the sermon I remember the most and, for better or for worse, I can even recite parts of it. In part of the sermon, he spoke on God’s sovereignty when looking at the lives of Peter and James – both servants of God. Reading from Acts 12, James was executed and Peter walked out of prison. One of the sentences that has stuck with me from his sermon was: “God was sovereign when James was walked out of prison by the guards who would execute him, and God was sovereign when Peter was walked out of prison by an angel.” I can recite that sentence from memory, and it crosses my mind from time to time. But today, it just hit differently.

For some months now, my grandma has been ill. A couple of weeks ago, the situation got worse and she was taken to hospital. She was on oxygen, feeding through a tube, and some burial arrangements even started being discussed. Yesterday, she was discharged and is now back home. Her return home brought back memories of another hospital stay, one that ended very differently.

Three and a half years ago, Dad was taken to the exact same hospital at night. He woke up the next morning and had his breakfast normally. In a few hours’ time, he was gone.

They say grief brings up so many emotions, and it definitely has in the last few years. To date, those feelings sometimes linger. I still wonder why it was him who died. Why not later? And the most evil thought of all, if I am honest, is that I look at certain people – old and very sick – and wonder why they get to live on while Dad, who seemed to be in better health, was taken from us. It is a disgusting and dark thought, but I must admit that it crosses my mind more times than it should. Today, it was from that thought that I recalled that sermon Voddie preached, and especially the sentence I quoted above.

I have written quite a bit about my grief, both on this blog and in other places. To a reader, it might appear that I have made total peace with my grief and that I have “moved on.” In many ways, I have, and I am grateful for the progress I have made. Today, though, as I recited that sentence, I was asking whether I can truly apply it to my own life. At this moment, I am asking the Lord to help me move that truth, the truth that God is sovereign, from my head to my heart. God was sovereign when my grandma was taken out of hospital, and God was sovereign when Dad died in the same hospital. That sentence is easier written than believed. But I will not falter in my belief, in my longing, in my cry, and in my plea to believe that sentence. God is sovereign not because we get what we ask of Him. God is sovereign because He is God.