Every Saturday, there is a men’s breakfast that I attend from time to time. We eat eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and we drink coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. (Yes, I know: life is hard on the missions field. And yes, the rumours are true: Africa has made me love coffee. I only hope that I don’t become dependent on it!) New people are always welcome to join us. The conversations with these new men generally follow the same rules and patterns that any conversation between two expatriates meeting for the first time goes:
- What is your name?
- How long have you been in Uganda for?
- What do you do here?
Of course, no person’s story is the same, and many times, an intriguing conversation ensues about the amazing and/or unique things that each person is doing in Uganda. And quite honestly, these conversations are always a joy to have because it reminds me that I am only working part of a facet that God has in His overall plans in Uganda. It reminds me that I can never be dependent on myself, and that I need these other missionaries to fulfill what God has called them to do in God’s greater picture.
During these breakfasts, I tend to stay quiet. That may be shocking coming from an extrovert like me, but I honestly enjoy listening to the conversations happening around me. Yet one way or another, I will always be asked the third question by a newcomer: What am I doing here in Uganda?
Except for two weeks ago. That question never came.
Though there were three new men, not one of them asked me this question. It did, however, come out through various conversations happening at the table that I was a Bible college student studying abroad and that I was planning on graduating in April. Boom. There was my title. No need to inquire any further. No need to ask the third important question.
Now, I don’t want to give off the impression that I need other people to know what I’m doing, as if that's my way of feeling important, or bragging about the things I’m doing in Uganda. I won’t lie, I get quite excited when I tell others about what I am doing here. I pray that it has no roots in pride, but that I am simply genuinely passionate about what I am doing here.
So it wasn’t a matter of not feeling important in front of these other middle-aged men that started me thinking about this. It was the fact that once these three men had a title to put on me — the Bible college student — they took a preconceived notion of what a Bible college student is, having been Bible college students themselves, and put me in a box. I say this because conversations took place right after this, them asking the others attending what they do in Uganda, and the only time any of them talked with me again, it was about Bible college.
Of course, titles are important. Otherwise God wouldn’t have changed names in the Bible or called us sons and daughters of the Most High — children of God (1 John 3:1)! Titles help us to quickly identify who people are based on our preconceived notions. For example, if someone is a project manager, we expect that they would perform and complete similar duties and tasks that other project managers do, according to our own past experiences of what a project manager does or should do. Giving titles also helps us to feel safe around whatever/whomever we give a title. If we can’t identify something/someone, it makes us feel uncomfortable around them. I guess it’s part of human nature. However, when we put a label on someone, and place that person in a box of our preconceived notions, in our minds we automatically limit what they do in life to everything that fits in this imaginary box.
Am I a Bible college student? Yes.
Am I just a Bible college student? No.
Could I have taken the time to further explain who I was when these three men found out I was a Bible college student? Of course I could have! But I find it interesting that no further question was brought up about what I am doing in Uganda, the third essential question that exists in every expatriate conversation when they meet for the first time.
Titles are very important, and boxes restrict. As the cliché in the Christian circles goes, “Don’t put God in a box,” meaning, “Don’t expect God to work this specific way in this specific time, and don’t ever assume you know everything about how God works — because if you did, that would make you God.”
As you meet new people, and titles are placed on them, never assume you know what they do or who they are. Don’t be so quick to put them in the box that suits their title in your mind. That title may only be one facet of that person’s life.
Titles only scratch the surface.