What Will You Do With Your Dash?
Here's an unusual way to start a Sunday: picture your tombstone. Stay with me. Someday, unless Jesus returns first, every one of us will have two dates carved in stone — the day we arrived and the day we left. But neither date says much about a life. The most interesting mark may be the smallest one: the dash between them.
That little dash holds everything — every conversation, every decision, every act of generosity, every time you chose yourself and every time you chose Jesus. We all get a dash, and none of us knows how long ours will be. So the real question isn't will I have one. It's what will I do with it? As we close our You Can Know series, 3 John answers one last question — can I know my life really matters? — through three men and three very different choices.
You don't have to be famous for your life to matter. You just have to be faithful.
Gaius: "How Can I Help?"
"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." — 3 John 4 (NIV)
Everything we know about Gaius is in a few verses, and notice what John praises. Not "I hear your church is huge" or "I hear people are impressed with you." He says, "I heard about your faithfulness to the truth and how you continue to walk in it." Our culture measures a life by visibility — followers, applause, name recognition. God measures differently. He isn't mainly asking how many people know your name; he's asking whether you faithfully walked in his.
And John doesn't just say Gaius knew the truth — he continued to walk in it. You can know Bible verses, theology, and church vocabulary for decades and never let any of it change your walk. Gaius let it change his. It showed up as hospitality: he welcomed and supported traveling Christian workers he'd never met, and John says that made him a "co-worker for the truth" (v. 8). You don't have to stand on a platform to take part in what God is doing. Give, pray, serve, open your home, sit with someone hurting — heaven calls that working together for the truth.
Diotrephes: "What's in It for Me?"
"Diotrephes, who loves to be first, will not welcome us." — 3 John 9 (NIV)
What a thing to be remembered for. Two thousand years later, every time someone opens this letter: oh yeah — the guy who always had to be first. Diotrephes had influence in the church, but somewhere ministry became about him — his position, his recognition, his control. So he spread lies about John, refused other believers, and pushed people out. Because when you have to be first, everyone else eventually has to be second.
It's tempting to read this and think of someone who needs to hear it — but there's a little Diotrephes in all of us. We rarely say "I love to be first"; we're more subtle. We just like being appreciated, being right, getting credit. Even our serving can quietly curdle into did anyone notice? So 3 John forces the question: am I trying to make people notice me, or helping them notice Jesus? Diotrephes shows one way. Jesus shows another — the one who deserved the throne washed feet and gave his life. In God's kingdom, greatness is serving.
Demetrius: "What Does My Life Say About Jesus?"
"Demetrius is well spoken of by everyone — and even by the truth itself." — 3 John 12 (NIV)
We know almost nothing about Demetrius — not his job, his income, whether he ever preached. But people watched his life and concluded: this man is the real deal. His life lined up with what he said he believed. He had a testimony. And that raises maybe the most important question we can ask — not "what do people think of me?" but "what do people think of Jesus because of me?"
They've watched how you treat your spouse, how you respond to people who disagree with you, how you talk about others when they're not in the room. Every Christian eventually leaves a testimony. The only question is what kind.
The Bigger Story
Put the three side by side. Gaius walked in the truth and asked, "How can I help?" Diotrephes wanted to be first and asked, "What's in it for me?" Demetrius left a faithful testimony and asked, in effect, "What does my life say about Jesus?" Every day, your choices are writing a story too — you're adding something to your dash.
And here's the freedom in it: most of us will never be famous, and that's okay, because you don't have to be famous for your life to matter. You have to be faithful — to Jesus, to your family, to serving, loving, giving, forgiving, showing up. Often the things that matter most are the ones nobody applauds. When your life belongs to Jesus, no act of faithfulness is ever wasted.
Share This With Someone This Week
You know someone quietly wondering whether their ordinary life counts for anything — unseen, unapplauded, sure that mattering means being famous. This is the news that frees them: you don't have to be famous, just faithful, and no faithful act is ever wasted. Passing this along could be the encouragement they needed. Sharing it is an act of love.
What Are You Going to Do About It?
Read 3 John slowly this week — it's short — and sit with the one question it keeps pressing: what does my life say about Jesus? Then pick one next step and actually walk it out:
- Walk it out: What truth has God already shown you that you need to stop knowing and start doing — someone to forgive, serve, or apologize to?
- Serve or invest: Do one thing this week nobody will notice, or pour into one person — a child, a neighbor, a coworker — to help them take a step toward Jesus.
Don't wait for applause. Just be faithful with the day in front of you.
Discover How You're Gifted
Not sure where you fit? The best way to find your gifts is to listen for God's voice and step into the opportunities in front of you. Start by taking our spiritual gifts assessment, expand your knowledge with our spiritual gifts course (Find Your Fit), then find a place to serve and jump in.