It’s 8:30 pm on Saturday night and my heart and body aren’t in the same place. The former is at home in Houston, hanging out with my family watching the Olympics. The latter is at DFW, enduring a grueling flight delay.

To sweeten the deal, I grab a fruit parfait (don’t judge me) and settle into my seat. I know it’s going to be a long night, and there’s no rush. Hunkering down, I watch the stream of people filing by. Some are sauntering, others are running, and all are different. No Olympics are needed on this night; the nations are right in front of me.

And that’s when the spiritual invades the natural. My carnal frustrations become overtaken by a prodding of the Spirit. It’s the question that has driven our movement for the past two thousand years.

Who’s going to reach them?

They come from all over – that much is clear. There are the Americans, clearly at home in their context. There are the internationals, filling the place with strange accents as they figure out where to go. And there are transplanted internationals, like the Somali ladies behind my yoghurt stand. There are a variety of backgrounds, needing a variety of approaches.

I wonder what type of church it will take to make it happen. What level of commitment, what level of sacrifice? I wonder what it will cost. And above all, I wonder how much joy it will bring. A church living out that level of missions has to be the most joyful church of all.

And so, on my flight delay, I begin to pray. No, I begin to plead. Begging God to wreck us for His glory. Begging Him to give us His heart for the nations. Begging Him to give us the joy that comes from seeing the world know Him, love Him, and worship Him.

The fruit parfait is long gone by now. But it’s replaced by delight far greater. It’s the anticipation of what God has in store for us. It’s the expectation of what is coming for Hope Church. For we’re seeing it already… outreach to friends and neighbors, focus on local missions, and the announcement of our first long-term international missionaries.

There’s a story to tell, and we’re going to tell it. We may not always know how, or when, or what it will look like. But it’s what we’re here for, and we’re going to do it.

So on this night, the question hounds me. But by the calling of God, for our joy and His glory, the answer is clear.

Who’s going to reach them?

We are.