“They raise their voices; they shout for joy; from the west they acclaim the Lord’s majesty. Therefore, in the east give glory to the Lord; exalt the name of the Lord, the God of Israel, in the islands of the sea. From the ends of the earth, we hear singing: ‘Glory to the Righteous One.’” — Isaiah 24:14-16

Well, we’re back! On behalf of the entire team, thanks for your many prayers. Six plane flights, 18,640 miles, and two weeks later, we’ve returned home—tired, grateful, and overwhelmed by all that God is doing in Asia. Along the way, we navigated bustling airports, long layovers, and a time zone difference that kept us guessing what day it was. Our team battled illness—taking turns with fevers, coughs, and fatigue—but by God’s grace, we pressed on.

We traveled through lands where rice fields stretched to the horizon, where water buffalo plod through village streets, and where chaotic traffic fills bustling cities, against the distant backdrop of snow-capped mountains. But the true highlight of our journey wasn’t the sights—it was the people. Whether in villages or cities, we were welcomed with kindness and generosity. We bonded over chai, rice, and curry, sharing meals that were as rich in hospitality as they were in flavor. And most importantly, we witnessed God at work—pastors hungry for the Word, children singing and dancing with unrestrained joy, and churches sending out workers to places where Christ has not yet been named. It was a journey filled with challenges, beauty, and the unmistakable presence of God.

One of the greatest joys of our mission was stepping into the fast-rushing stream of God’s ongoing work among the 4.82 billion people of Asia. We often think of missions as bringing the gospel to those who have not heard, but what we found in restricted-access countries in South Asia was something quite different. We weren’t bringing worship to the East—we were joining it. The church is alive, growing, and lifting up the name of Jesus with a passion that both inspired and humbled us.

Isaiah 24 paints a picture of worship transferring from the west to the east, a song of praise resounding across the nations. And we heard it—loud and clear.

The first sounds of praise we encountered came from the children. Eighty-five kids filled a church each day for camp, singing at the top of their lungs. They weren’t shy. They weren’t distracted. They simply praised. Whether it was a Bible lesson, a game, or a craft, they participated with their whole hearts. It was pure joy—the kind that makes you stop and remember that this is what faith should look like: delight, awe, and unrestrained celebration of who God is.

Then there were the pastors. Forty-five men gathered for training, some traveling long distances over unpaved, rutted roads for hours to attend. Their hunger for the Word of God was unmistakable. They didn’t come for academic knowledge or intellectual debate. They came because they were shepherding churches in remote villages, bringing the gospel into places where Christ is still scarcely known. These pastors weren’t just leading churches; they were planting new ones, discipling believers, and training up the next generation of leaders.

And the parents. We expected around fifty attendees for the parenting seminar but saw a hundred instead. They sat attentively through sometimes tedious translation, not just listening but leaning in, seeking wisdom on how to raise their children to know and follow Christ. During the Q&A, many stayed for prayer, asking for guidance in ways that spoke to the deep responsibility they felt in shaping the next generation.

These brothers and sisters are not waiting for someone to bring them the gospel—they are already running with it. They are planting churches, sending out missionaries, and discipling believers with an urgency that puts churches in the global West to shame. The Great Commission is not just a concept for them; it’s their daily reality.

And here’s the most humbling part: these churches, many of them a fraction of the size of ours with practically no resources, are training dozens of students at Bible school. They’re commissioning young couples to go into unreached villages, to plant churches where no gospel presence exists. They are moving forward—not with abundance, but with faith.

Meanwhile, in the West, we have freedom. We have resources. We have opportunities. And yet, somehow, we have lost urgency. It’s not that we don’t care—it’s that we’ve been dulled by comfort. Unlike in the global East, the enemy’s tactic here is not persecution or hardship—it’s distraction. It’s ease. It’s the slow, subtle loss of focus, where church becomes a routine rather than a mission.

But in this land far away where the harvest is plentiful, we were reminded of what real faith looks like. Worship is not an event—it’s a way of life. Relationship with Jesus is not theoretical- it’s real. The gospel is not something we fit into our schedules—it is the heartbeat of everything we do. These believers, in their passion and sacrifice, reminded us that we are part of something so much bigger than our own churches, our own communities, our own familiar ways of doing things.

And so, we found ourselves not just teaching—but learning. Not just encouraging—but being encouraged. Not just giving—but receiving.

Isaiah’s words are not just a prophecy; they are a reality. From the ends of the earth, from west to east, we do hear singing. And it’s our privilege to join in.

The question now is—will we?

Will we let the passion of the church in this “unreached” region rekindle something in us? Will we remember that we are not the source of worship, but participants in a global chorus that stretches from the West to the East?

The song is already being sung. The church is already advancing. The gospel is already moving.

Let’s make sure our voices are part of it.