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This blog is adapted from a sermon by Joel Dickens, a veteran missionary to Brazil.

I stepped off the plane after ten years away, and my daughters couldn't believe how the shower worked.

After a decade serving in Brazil, the small things felt foreign. A shower curtain had to stay inside the tub, not outside—a detail that seemed ridiculous until water flooded the hotel bathroom. My girls had grown up in Brazilian bathrooms without curtains at all, where the floor itself was designed to drain. Now, standing in an American bathroom, we were rediscovering things most of us take for granted.

But that moment—soaked hotel floor, confused teenagers, the weight of missing a decade—it stopped me cold. Time is short. A decade can vanish in a single conversation. Years fold into moments. If we're not intentional, we'll blink and realize it's gone, sparking a desire to act now.

That's the urgency behind what Jesus said in John 9:

I must work the works of him that sent me while it is day: the night cometh when no man can work. — John 9:4, KJV

Not someday. While it is day. Because the night—that season when our work ends—comes for all of us.

The Clock Is Ticking—And So Are We

When you're young, time feels infinite. Ten years seems like forever. But if you've lived long enough to have gray hair or grandchildren, you know better. It flies.

Jesus understood this about His disciples. They thought the kingdom was coming immediately—that He'd set up His earthly throne right then and there. So He told them a parable to shift their entire perspective. In Luke 19, He describes a nobleman who goes away to receive a kingdom and return. Before he leaves, he gives his servants responsibility:

He called his ten servants and delivered them ten pounds and said unto them, Occupy till I come. — Luke 19:13, KJV

That word—occupy—it doesn't mean sit and wait. In Greek, it means to do business. The nobleman isn't asking his servants to hide his wealth; he's urging them to keep working, building, and investing-stirring a sense of purpose and responsibility.

Why? Because he's returning, and the night—the end of opportunity—comes for us all.

You might have decades left. You might have days. None of us knows. But Christ does. And He's telling us: Don't waste the daylight-share your faith today and live with purpose.

You're Already a Missionary—Whether You Knew It or Not

Here's where many of us get stuck. We hear the word missionary and picture someone on an airplane heading to a foreign country. Someone who's answered a calling. Someone special—someone God really tapped on the shoulder.

But here's the truth: If you know Jesus Christ as your Savior, you're already one.

Your mission field might be across the street. It might be Bedford. It might be Brazil. But you are a missionary. Not because you went through a commissioning service or spent years in discernment. But because you've been given the gospel, and the gospel is meant to move through you to others.

Listen to what Paul calls this:

All things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation. — 2 Corinthians 5:18, KJV

That's you. The ministry of reconciliation. It means you can walk up to someone—someone who's far from God, someone who's rejected Him, someone who's never heard His name—and you can tell them about Jesus. And that person can be reconciled to God. They can become a new creation.

I think about Carlos. Years ago, he was dating a young woman from our church, and they were living together. As a church, we had to take a stand. We loved them, but we also held them accountable. We disciplined them, but we didn't abandon them.

Carlos kept coming to church. He heard the gospel. Maybe he didn't fully understand it that first Sunday. But he kept showing up. And the Tuesday before we left from Brazil, Carlos put his faith and trust in Jesus Christ.

He's a real person with a real life and a real eternity now—because someone in that church did the kingdom's business. They didn't hide it in a napkin. They lived it out loud.

That's not reserved for missionaries with passports. That's the calling of every believer.

The Difference Between Watching and Working

Here's the hard truth from the parable: Not all servants got the same result.

Two of them traded their pounds and multiplied them—one ten-fold, one five-fold. But there was a third servant. He was afraid. He didn't understand the master. He thought the master was harsh and unjust. So he played it safe. He wrapped the pound in a napkin and hid it.

He was faithful in one sense—he didn't lose it. He kept it safe. He just never used it.

And when the master returned, his words were cutting:

Out of thine own mouth will I judge thee, thou wicked servant. Thou knewest that I was an austere man, taking up that I laid not down, and reaping that I did not sow. Wherefore then gavest thou not my money into the bank, that at my coming I might have required mine own with usury? — Luke 19:22-23, KJV

Notice what happened. The servant wasn't condemned for failing—he was condemned for not trying. He had everything he needed. He just chose passivity over faith.

Many of us are living in that napkin right now. We know the gospel. We know Christ. We go to church. We read our Bibles. We pray. But we're not actively sharing our faith. We're not looking for opportunities to introduce someone to Jesus. We're not praying for the lost. We're not inviting anyone to church. We're just keeping the gospel safe, locked away in our own spiritual world.

And one day, when the Master returns, He'll ask: Why didn't you do business with what I gave you?

This isn't about eloquence or degrees or spiritual credentials. This is about movement. This is about seeing someone and saying something and praying for someone and inviting them and knowing the gospel and sharing it.

Paul captured it perfectly:

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. — Romans 12:1, KJV

Reasonable service. This is the least we can do. It makes sense. It's not crazy. It's not beyond you.

What Will You Be When He Returns?

The nobleman returns. He calls his servants to account. And He rewards them based on their faithfulness—not on talent or ability, but on what they did with what they were given.

Both the servant who gained ten pounds and the servant who gained five received the same affirmation: Well done, thou good servant.

One produced twice as much as the other. But both were commended because both were actively faithful.

Here's what we often miss: Your reward in eternity is being determined right now. Not by what you think or feel. Not by good intentions. But by what you're doing while the day lasts.

One day—and none of us knows when—Christ will return. The night will come. The opportunity to work will be gone. And you and I will stand before Him and give an account for our time, our gifts, our gospel.

Will you have multiplied what He gave you? Or will you have hidden it?

Will you have been actively faithful? Or passively comfortable?

Here's what I'm asking you to do: Wake up to the urgency. See the people around you not as strangers, but as souls who need to hear about Jesus. Stop waiting for the perfect moment and create one.

Talk to that neighbor. Invite that coworker to church. Reach out to that family member. Share what Jesus has done for you. You don't need a degree. You don't need permission. You need to do business.

Because the night cometh. And the time to work is now.

What will you "occupy" yourself with this week? Pick one person you know who needs to hear about Jesus. Pray for them. Then do something—send a text, ask them to coffee, invite them to church. Don't hide your faith in a napkin.

The time is short. The Master is coming. And He's looking for servants who are busy doing His business.