Chauffeur

I had no idea what to expect as we bumped down the red dirt road towards an outlying, rather remote village. It's not every day that we go this far out, especially not knowing exactly what we were doing. All we knew is we were looking for a sick man.

Something told me we were also marching into battle.

The church leader, John, of a certain neighboring village had called to notify us of this particular sick man. The only information he gave was us was that this sick man had visited fetishers (leaders in traditional African religion, most comparable to "witch doctors") in hopes to get well, but he only got worse. He was desperate.

I had no idea what kind of sickness we might encounter, what kind of situation we would find, or what kind of darkness we might be walking into. As we drove out two hours to John's village in search of John and his sick friend, I prayed that God would clothe us in light and protect us from evil so that we could shine his love into the darkness.

Arriving to John's place, we learned he was not there, so we patiently waited while someone went to fetch him. In the meantime, we saw the new church building that the members are building right next to John's house. We also sat under the shade of the tree where the church currently meets, enjoying the breeze, watching the people pass by, and praying silent prayers for the body of Christ that gathers in that place.

When John finally arrived about an hour later, we sat with him in his home while he talked about the sick man, whose name is Max. Max used to be the church leader in another village just down the road. John used to pick him up and they would come together to our quarterly Bible trainings for church leaders. But a little while ago, the church stopped meeting, so the members in that village started coming to John's village to attend the church there. When John learned that Max had fallen ill about four months ago, he went to visit him frequently, but each time found that he was out visiting another fetish house, seeking healing according to dark magic, animal sacrifices, potions, and rituals. Being persistent, John finally found him at home one day, and he took the time to pray with him and begged him to trust in God instead of idols and fetishes. John also saw how serious the sickness had become, so that's when he notified our missionary team. That was two days ago.

We loaded John in the car with us and he led us to Max's house, where he was laying on a thin wick mat in a dark corner, unable to sit up by himself, his abdomen inflated and tight like a balloon from fluid accumulation known as ascites.

We told him first that we were there to pray, and pray is what we did, but not without taking the opportunity to speak to him. I encouraged him first with a passage that God had given me in my Bible study that morning, but then Stanislas spoke, followed by John. I was absolutely astounded by the love and insight they shared with this man, and the gentleness and sincerity with which they did it. They spoke Scripture to him, reminded him of his salvation and baptism when he chose to follow Christ, spoke of God's love for him, and implored him to trust in the God that he knows is the One true God. I was so proud to be sitting beside them, listening to them evangelize to the man's family and encourage a man that I could tell they loved as a friend and brother who had gone astray.

After they spoke, Max lifted his head from the mat and thanked them for their message of truth and encouragement. He confessed that he had turned everywhere else to find healing, but that he wanted to repent and trust God again. With his confession and a declaration of God's forgiveness for all those who believe in him, we prayed. On our knees with hands lifted to heaven and laid on his head, we prayed with all our might.

Sometimes you can just feel the thick darkness of despair, lies, and torment leave. I think the darkness trembled, the demons in the room fled, and the idols posed in the dark corner lost their power. A battle was waged, and God's love broke through.

I did a quick nursing assessment, enough to understand the gravity of this brother's situation. We discussed treatment options, decided to take him to the capital city, asked authroization from the family head, and packed some bags quickly before loading him in the back of my car and finding him a temporary place in our city for the night before going to the big city the next day.

I became an ambulance driver. The chauffeur, if you will. Sometimes that's all I do, and I'm content to do it. Perhaps the whole reason for my going out to this village was to bring Stanislas and John - two amazing pastors, evangelists, and friends - together to witness to Max and his family. Perhaps my whole purpose was to just be the chauffeur, to drive God's people where he wanted them to be so they could do the work he has called them to do or receive the healing he has ordained for them to have.

I had gone out just looking for a sick man, not knowing what I would find, but I found a great physical and spiritual need, and I witnessed two Spirit-led men meet those needs with love and compassion. I was honored to stand beside them; they are heroes of the faith if you ask me. I found that I had a car that works for an ambulance and a support base back in the United States that will provide for his medical costs. Perhaps what I found most of all was the power of prayer and presence in fighting spiritual battles, and the simple significance of doing what God has presented me to do just for today...even if it is just being the chauffeur.

May God continue to do such great things through his people in Burkina Faso. May he heal Max. May he lead his whole family to faith. May he use their testimony to bring many people from darkness to light.