As I Survey the Wondrous Bank

Wondrous...Well maybe not so much wondrous, but it makes for a pretty good title of a blog that I suppose will be a reflection of the past 10 months of my life as a bank teller at Wachovia Bank Corporation. Ronald Mark Ayers (yes my first name is Ronald...ha, ha, ha...well before you go laughing all the way I am named after my father, so it serves as a significant part of who I am and where I came from...an no my dad is not Ronald McDonald), Bank Teller, Wachovia Bank. That was me and my title for the past year. It is not the most prestigious job in the world, and it was definitely not the best paying job in the world, but it did make ends meet. The Bank Teller is a mostly female dominated occupation, and proved to be the case at the branch in which I worked. I was the minority...as a matter a fact I was the only male teller. That fact in and of itself made for an interesting year. You learn a lot of things about women when all you work with is women (they were all awesome though, so thoughtful and kind to my wife and I...I will always remember them!). That's another blog...probably never to be written...at least by me. You can learn a whole lot of other things being a bank teller as well, particularly about people. People are diverse. Some are rich, some are poor, some are just somewhere in the middle. Some think they are rich and like to remind you how much money that they have in the bank when you do something they don't like, little do they know we really do know how much money they have in the bank and it really dosen't matter to us or the bank and most of the people who say it don't really have that much...You also learn that some people lack the ability to really think about what they are doing or saying...they live their lives oblivious to what is really going on around them. Some people live their lives expecting others to do everything for them and to ask them to do it for themselves is just ridiculous...I mean after all the world owes them something. Some people just can't quite figure out why in the world they can't write a check to someone for an amount they do not have and the bank will not pay for it. Some people like to come to the bank everyday of their lives, sometimes more than once. Maybe they just need somewhere to go...or maybe they just haven't figured out they can get enough money out for the whole week in one day and not have to come everyday. Mexicans cash extremely large checks, people hate showing you their i.d. (even in a day where fraud is so prevalant), people like to fill out their deposit slips while in the drive-thru line while cars by the multitudes line up behind them, people think: that online banking is of the devil, the ATM never runs out of money, the bank has a money making machine in the vault, the bank should never close, there should never be a line, they can write checks with money they don't have and the bank should not penalize them for it, overdrafts are always the banks fault, and the list goes on and on...but what I have really learned about people from sitting behind the teller window is that some people can be kind, some can be rude, some are just out right nasty, some smell funny, some smell pretty, some smell way to pretty, some are annoying, some are funny, some think they are, some are always in a hurry, and some never seem to be (you know those people...you like me always get behind them in line), some smile, some never will, some speak, others never utter a peep, while some others never shut-up, some are happy, others sad, some ticked off, others glad, some dress expensively, others not so much, some are just doing bussiness, others not at all, some are patient, some the opposite, some understanding, others just can't accept it, some have nice cars, others not so nice, some even have extremely loud ones...but they all have several things in common: money, time, and existence...and while some will choose to do much with theirs and some nothing at all, they still possess it and have the opportunity to do something great with it...me well I was just passing through the bank for a brief time in my life's journey of pursuing my dreams, and while I desire to make much of what has been given to me...I will never forget the things I learned to do and not to do while at the bank, and I will never forget the things I have learned about people...that they all have individual lives and agendas that are as important to them as are mine. And even though sometimes they just aggrevated me to no end, they to want to be loved and appreciated and need to hear the good news that God loves them and has a purpose for their lives...oh the wondrous bank.

Sharper Image

Image is everything right? Well, I don't think so. Things just are not always as they first appear. Here is what happen to me...So remember my previous blog when I talked about being in the doctor's office with my wife, well this happened the same day at the doctor's office. The doctor was throughly impressed with my inquisitiveness and asked me what I did...he was inquiring about my occupation. Well, I told him I was a preacher. He was a little shocked, but not because of my inquisitiveness, he actually said that explains my inquisitiveness (that is good I guess), but what shocked him was my appearence. I had longer hair, not like a girl long but long, and a beard. He asked me what denomination and I said Baptist. The next question was what type of Baptist. I could tell by that question that he had been mildly schooled in religion, particualry that of the Christian one. I responded by telling him I was a Southern Baptist. The next question to leave his mouth was, "They let you have long hair and a beard!?" I laughed a little and responded, "they do for now." I guess that the reason he was so surprised is because based on my appearance, I do not fit the mold of what a Southern Baptist preacher should look like. As I pondered most of the Southern Baptist preachers I know, I supposed he was right. I don't look like the sterotypical Southern Baptist preacher. Most of them do not have long hair...probably more like no hair...and I must admit I am headed that direction myself, no hair that is (praise the Lord for male-pattern baldness). There was also probably a time not to long ago when any Southern Baptist male having long hair was just taboo. The beard...well what's the beef with that? I guess a preacher should be clean shaved and clean cut with a nice pressed suit made to fit, a much "sharper image" I suppose is what I am to possess as a Southern Baptist preacher. Maybe I should get a hair cut and shave my beard. Maybe I should rush out to Sears and by me a good looking cost effective suit. Or maybe I will be one of those who seeks to escape the stereotype instead of one that embraces it. Maybe I can be a part of another generation of Southern Baptist preachers who breaks the image of what a preacher looks like and sounds like, or maybe I can just be myself...a guy who happens to be a man called to reach the world with the gospel of Christ, who happens to be Southern Baptist, and who just so happens to look like me.