Excitement for the conference was building as I flew from Seattle to Philadelphia. I was ready to
network, job search, reconnect with old friends, and enjoy spending a few days off campus. I arrived
in Philadelphia and patiently waited for my luggage. I kept waiting. The airport began to clear out. I
started to panic a little, but tried to remain confident. I found a representative from the airline and
they said they had been trying to call me because my luggage could not be found and did not arrive
in Philadelphia. It was lost somewhere in an abyss, unable to be found because of faulty scanning
equipment in Chicago. Essentially, no one had any idea where it was.

So there I was, without my suit, with no shirts, ties, socks, underwear, toiletries, phone/computer
chargers, etc. They said that most bags are recovered within 24 hours, so I didn’t worry too much.
Luckily, a friend of mine who was there had brought two suits, so after frantically running to his hotel at
midnight and trying on his suit, I settled in to try and sleep before the conference began.

Long story short, I did not receive my luggage back until about three weeks later. Mysteriously, my
shampoo, toothpaste, cologne, and phone charger were missing. I was also repeatedly questioned
about my involvement in a burglary/identity theft scam in Rancho Cucamonga, California, due to some
documents that were supposedly found in my luggage. Needless to say, it was an interesting experience.
The bright spot was that due to my constant yelling and throwing a fit over the phone, I was able to get
them to give me $200.00 to buy a few new shirts and ties for the conference. I unfortunately forgot to
buy new socks during this time, and after seven days of continued wear, my smelly pair of socks had to
be thrown out.

Despite living in someone else’s clothes for four days, and using harsh hotel soaps, shampoos, and
razors, I had a great time at the conference and learned a lot. I got to see Emmanuel Jal, a former child
soldier from Sudan, speak and perform his music. I attended a session about the 10 myths of social
justice, which spurred introspection and reflection. I was able to reconnect with old colleagues and
meet new ones. It was my first national conference, and though it didn’t start off particularly great, the
professional development I received from attending was top-notch. Next time, I just know to only pack a
carry-on.

Andrew McGeehan, Student Development Administration

What comes to mind rapidly when pondering the quality of patience are scenes from various waiting rooms of my life. The Department of Motor Vehicles office…lost my license…need a new one…child in tow…45 minute wait…I am ants in my pantsy…child is quickly realizing she is no longer amused…but I know that there is an end point…so I muster my kind words and amp up creative ways to occupy a child…and call on my dear friend patience. 

Or how about ending up in a small group situation where the discomfort is palpable? Words flying by me with incomprehensible reality…maybe even witnessing racism or sexism…and knowing nothing I say will be able to honor all involved. Again…patience quietly speaks to me and reminds me…this isn’t forever. 

But what about the BIG parts of life that are (or seem to) last forever? How does patience morph to cover such vast needs?

The concern that breeches my thoughts about my daughter’s future leaves me calling on patience frequently. I want to know that I am loving, listening and gently guiding in ways that are securing her a happy, healthy adult life—all while trying to finish a graduate degree. But I don’t get to know that for quite a while. So I breathe, wait, and remind myself to be patient…and admittedly look for small signs that might give me hints that she will be ok. And do it again, and again, and again. Sometimes the “big” patience required in this endeavor comes easier than others. So I breathe. I try and choose well. Breathe. And I remember that though the big picture is very important when raising a child, the small, immediate picture is just as important. Then I breathe again. 

Patience can expand and grow like love….amazing! 

And then there is the rest of life to be patient with. When will I get to parts of life that I very much want? Finishing this amazing yet taxing degree. Owning a home…being established in a career that I haven’t even started yet…Being the person that does all of that with grace….Breathe, make good choices, breathe… and wrap patience around me like a warm, soft blanket on a misty Seattle morning. 

Thank you dear friend Patience, nestled deep in my heart. I will endeavor to honor your helpful presence always! 

 HeatherJoy Boi  

 School of Theology and Ministry