By Brett Younger
Someone in the housing office — not Libby, someone not as competent as Libby — loses my paperwork. I arrive as a new student at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in 1983 and a young woman who, given her shifty eyes, I suspect lost my file says, “You have no place to live. You’re going to have to see Libby.”
Libby assures me, “I will take care of this,” and sends me to a Holiday Inn where I am to say, “Libby sent me.”
Two days later, as I am memorizing the alphabet on page one of my new Greek textbook (“alpha, beta, gamma, delta” is most of the Greek I remember), Libby calls and says, “I have a place for you in married housing.”
I respond, “Mrs. Allen, I think you have me mixed up with a homeless seminary couple. I’m not married.”
Libby answers, “Neither is Chuck.”
Chuck and I may be the last two males to share married housing at Southern Seminary.
Libby has spent most of the last 35 years finding seminary students a place to live or prospective seminary students a place to learn. This is a reliable conversation starter at Baptist meetings: “Do you know Libby Allen?”
Libby is stepping down as director of admissions of Mercer University’s McAfee School of Theology in Atlanta after spending 17 years there. The variety of positions she has held includes “Second Mother.” Instead of looking at incoming students and asking — as many administrators do — “How do I get this student out of my office?” Libby asks, “What would this frightened child’s mother want me to do?”
Libby has cared for thousands of young people who are trying to make a new life. She loves some by saying, “Come by my office whenever you need to talk,” and loves others by saying, “Seminary is not for everyone. What else would you like to do?”
Libby’s office is 20 feet from mine. I am well within the radius of those who are kinder and happier because of Libby. When Libby stops coming to the office at the end of June (and begins working as administrative coordinator for the Baugh Center for Baptist Leadership) our school will be in danger of becoming less loving.
Kelsey Stillwell, one of our student workers, decided that Libby needs our help creating a bucket list. After Libby marks “Rule the McAfee Admissions Office” off her list, what does she need to add?
A normal bucket list will not work for Libby. She does not need to lose weight, reads more than the rest of us, and has traveled the world.
Libby already does the important things. She loves her family, cares for the hurting and serves God. Our additions to her list were going to be shallow.
Carol and I offered Libby three possibilities: Dance at your grandson’s wedding; get Loyd Allen to admit he is wrong about something; take your friends Brett and Carol to a Jimmy Buffett concert.
Kelsey’s recommendation was quite specific: Do yoga on a beach in Bali.
Rob Nash went with the unlikely: Teach Loyd Allen to cook.
Ron Grizzle may have a car to sell: Buy a 2015 Toyota Prius.
Rachel Freeny set the bar high: Eat a donut from every donut shop in Atlanta.
Kali Freels did not aim high: Take a day to do absolutely nothing.
Michelle Garber’s suggestion seemed like a curse to me: Buy a camper.
Karen Massey is either a great friend or a threat: Go skydiving with me.
Clare Allen’s proposal seems like a no-brainer: Get a tattoo with your daughter.
Libby has been working on a real bucket list for a long time. She will continue to inspire us. I will try to be kinder to new students and I may go eat a donut.