Holy Heat

When I arrived in Yako, it must have been at least 110 degrees because it felt like 130 to me. When the intern finished the ten-minute tour of the orphanage, sweat had saturated my shirt, was dripping into my eyes, and was running down my legs. There is no air conditioner in Yako, no place to escape the heat except the shade. It’s only 105 in the shade.

“You wanna come with me to visit the pastor?” the intern asked us. We agreed and walked about five minutes in the scalding sun to the church building where we found Pastor Valentin, who was reclining in a chair by the window. He was smiling and obviously elated to see us. He is Burkinabe, but he understood and spoke English excellently.

After some brief introductions, we sat down and he offered us drinks. His wife brought out a pitcher and glasses. “Would you like some hot tea or coffee?” I couldn’t believe it, but I accepted a steaming hot coffee in the middle of a steaming hot desert on a steaming hot day.

Then the pastor started talking. He wanted to know all about us and how we came to Burkina Faso. He asked me a lot of questions about my calling to mission, and he seemed very intrigued when I talked about God’s great big heart for the world. “How long have you been praying for the nations?” He asked me. “And what do you pray for them?”

“I pray for them to have a hunger and thirst that cannot be satisfied by the things of this world. Then I pray for God to send people to tell them about Jesus, so that they can find satisfaction in Him.”

He nodded slowly, as if he approved of my answer and agreed wholeheartedly. Evangelism is his heartbeat, too. He went on to tell us all about his prayers for the nations to know God and especially for the young people of Burkina to grow up knowing Christ so that the next generation of leaders will be Christ-followers.

“Tell me about how you became a Christian,” I said.

“I grew up in a Christian family,” he began. “But my father was once a healer for the village.” A healer is a position of power and spiritual authority in the village. Sometimes a healer is known as a shaman or a witch doctor. Pastor Valentin continued, “A Christian tried many times to convince my father to turn to Jesus, but he rejected Christ time after time.” Then one day, he became very ill. When the shaman gets ill, then something is very wrong. He called in a pastor to pray for him, and when God healed him, he gave his life to Christ. He then raised his family and taught his children about God.

“Pastor, tell the story about your wife.”

The Pastor then proceeded to spend twenty or thirty minutes telling us the story of how he met his wife. “I prayed for her for seven years before I knew who she was,” he said. “I wanted my marriage to be the will of God.” In a time of prayer and fasting, God revealed to him the name of his future wife, and that he would meet her at 1:00. The Pastor went to church after church, looking for this woman, but did not find her. Still, he waited and prayed. Several years later, he met her at an all-night prayer meeting at 1:00 in the morning. “I waited seven years for her,” he concluded, “but God knew that I needed that much time to prepare my heart for a lifetime of marriage.”

As I sat at the feet of this Spirit-filled man who loves Jesus with all his heart, revolves every decision of his life around God’s will, and wants to tell the nations about Jesus, I totally forgot about the heat.

I was so impressed and encouraged by this man’s faith. I was almost even surprised because I didn’t expect to find such great faith in the middle of the desert of Africa. But shame on me for thinking that way. A passionate and radical faith is not an “American” thing; it’s a Jesus thing. Having an intimate and personal relationship with Jesus and a calling to go to the nations is not a product of any one culture; it is a product of the Holy Spirit, who knows no cultural, national, ethnic, or linguistic boundaries.

Pastor Valentin is possibly the coolest person I know right now. His stories, his testimony, and his faith remind me of two Scriptures that have come to mean a lot to me during my time here in Burkina Faso.

Psalm 107:4-9 says:

Some wandered in desert wastes, finding no way to a city to dwell in; hungry and thirsty, their souls fainted within them. Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble and He delivered them from their distress. He led them by a straight way till they reached a city to dwell in. Let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of man! For He satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry He fills with good things.

O Lord, make the people of Burkina hungry and thirsty for you. In this desert place, they know what it is like to be wandering, hungry, thirsty, hot, and parched. Now create a spiritual dissatisfaction and restlessness among them until they seek after you. When they cry to you, deliver them, so that they may know that you are the One and Only True God, the Satisfier of their souls.

Then Psalm 4:7 says:

You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound.

Lord, may the people of Burkina know a joy in you that exceeds the joy of an abundant harvest.

There is something incredibly holy about desert heat. I don't hate it so much anymore. When sweat drips down and my mouth is dry and I am tempted to complain about the lack of air conditioning, I remember the desperation of the desert. And I pray for Christ to satisfy.