God’s Guidebook to Business…as taught by an angel
Below are the first couple chapters with the entire story attached in PDF.
God’s Request
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In the beginning was the Word; the Word was in God’s presence,
and the Word was God.
John 1:1
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Creating the universe was a massive task and when God was finished with the work he had been doing, he rested. (Genesis 2:2) However, while he rested God planned it as such that the universe would continue to grow and flourish. To accomplish this, he designed it such that the universe and its trillions upon trillions of touch points operated in harmony, as one cohesive system and not a conglomeration of disparate parts. Not only were all the parts and functions dependent upon one another, they were impossible to separate. From the cosmos’ far reaches to the earth’s core, from the ordinary to the supernatural, from the esoteric to the mundane and from the seen to the unseen, everything and everywhere and everyone were integrated by way of a single operating platform.
That operating platform is the Word.
The Word is the universal architecture for everything…and everything is inclusive of mankind. The architecture is not meant to be a secret, but rather God promised I will tell you things great beyond the reach of your knowledge. (Jeremiah 33:3) God does this in a book, his book, a book greater than all others.
That book is the Bible.
The Bible produces success for all who apply its Way. For thousands of generations the Bible’s wisdom was one with daily life. Kings relied on it to rule, farmers to farm, families to flourish and all who hungered to be all that they could be treasured it. Its lessons are equal parts spiritual insight, motivational energy and pragmatic advice. God desires the Word to be lived and enjoyed.
However, in recent times people have started to forget; in a series of tiny, unnoticed lateral drifts, peoples’ incorporation of the Word into their daily routines has weakened. By the 21st century the everyday circumstances of human existence have diluted peoples’ reliance on the Word. Deciding among the thousands of websites, car models, travel destinations, career paths, personal organizers, hair colors, single malt scotches, home models, retirement options, schools, personal trainers, text messaging, homework assignments, insurance plans, fitness gurus, medicines, dinner menus, clothing labels…you name it, there is a choice to be made, and in the process, diminishing peoples’ attention; weakening their connection to the Word.
Without knowing how or why or even noticing when, work has become life and life has become work. Busy-ness for the sake of being busy is pervasive. The words Bible and work are no longer commonly paired; a far cry from the time when our ancestors understood the Word was basic to all occupations.
…
God: They sell 150 brands of water, imagine that! Moses had only one to part.
Catherine: People like their choices.
God: It is distracting.
Catherine: It is just water.
God: It is a symptom.
Catherine: The world is more complicated now.
God: Start with a solid foundation and complications find ways to un-complicate themselves. People need help finding that foundation.
Catherine: God, they have plenty of help. They are a clever people with their thousands of books, personal coaches, Podcast, tapes, videos, psychologists, Webinars, infomercials, seminars and every sort of how-to-thingamajigger imaginable.
God: They are drifting away from the Word. All Scripture is from God and is useful for teaching. (2 Timothy 4:16) They rely too much on their own shifting perceptions.
Catherine: God…people are working sixty hours a week and they don’t believe the Word is pertinent during those hours. If I may be so bold, people don’t see how the experiences of Abraham, Noah, Moses, or even Christ relate to their own businesses and careers. Times have changed.
God: Life…all life is rooted in the same universal issues; whether it is today or 10,000 years ago. The formula is unchanged. The Word will continue to be lived and re-lived forever. It is dangerous to think that the Word is an artifact of a bygone era.
Catherine: It is confusing out there. They are lost and they are getting tired.
God: Each helps each other and says to the other “keep on.” (Isaiah 41:6)
Catherine: There are fewer saying keep on. People are bogged down with their own lives.
God: They seem to have forgotten that help is always available.
Catherine: There are so many who are confused.
God: That is why this story must begin here…begin now.
Catherine: A lot of help is needed. Too much maybe.
God: Do you not know a little yeast has its effect all throughout the dough? (1 Corinthians 5:6) It is time for something extra.
Catherine: What extra?
God: I have somebody I want you to work with. He can be a bit confused at times; often slightly pig headed. But he has potential.
Catherine: Who…what do you mean… wait…no…no…not again.
God: He is a good guy.
Catherine: No.
God: You learned much last time.
Catherine: He died.
God: That was by design. Your only role was to observe.
Catherine: It was tough to watch.
God: Have you selectively forgotten that he rose again?
Catherine: Still, it was very painful.
God: I know, it was my Son. But more is needed this time and I am asking for your help. It is important; the connections are dwindling.
Catherine: Is he special?
God: No more, no less than all my children, which means he is very special to me.
Catherine: No dying this time?
God: No dying.
Catherine: Promise?
God: You have my Word.
The Prodigal Son
You have made known to me the path of life.
Psalm 16: 11
Garden of Eden
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There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the estate that will belong to me.’
Luke 15:11-12
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A poker game; and not even my poker game.
Where I spend eight plus hours every day five days a week is the result of a poker game. I wanted a career as a pro basketball player, a Nobel Prize winner, a musician or, ideally, as a wealthy philanthropist, but nobody was willing to hire me for any of those positions. I would even be happy saying I desired a career as a business owner, computer programmer, a doctor, a train engineer, a zoo keeper or what I am, a banker. Yet after all my years on the job, I am still hesitant to say what I do for a living is my career. To me careers are for the preternaturally smart, goal driven types who by age twelve have started a couple of companies, formed charities and who ultimately attend an Ivy League school where they flame a burning need to secure a CEO position upon graduation. They know what they want and want what they do.
I, on the other hand, have a job.
This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it was not a choice based on foresight and passion either. Like many of my friends, I studied just hard enough in high school, getting some good and some not as good grades. College was more of the same. I took the courses my parents encouraged me to take, with the only limiting factor being that class was not even remotely near the early morning. I had fun at college and made friends while doing the things one needs to do in order to graduate. Me graduating was not a big surprise; I just did not leave college with a conclusive career path.
For the record, however, it is not that I did not want a career; it is just that I had more pedestrian concerns. My goal was to get a job that afforded me an apartment with enough money left over to enjoy a couple of beers with friends. With such a pressing goal, the questions of what I should expect from life or what life should expect from me could wait. I had time on my side and other priorities. I was primed to take any opportunity that meandered my way. My job search strategy consisted largely of asking friends if they knew of any job openings; a rather naïve strategy considering the majority of them were in the same post college, unemployed conundrum as me. Thus, for good measure, I added a constant litany of prayers whose common theme was for some job, any kind of job, to cross my plate. Through what I attributed to be divine intervention, a friend’s father was playing poker with the human resources manager for Old First Bank and discovered that the bank had a job opening. Three interviews later I got the job.
And that is how I landed at Old First Bank, the result of a poker game. I thank the Lord that my friend’s father did not play poker with the director of human resources of a sewage plant.
Actually, this is somewhat of a disservice to the sewage industry, because my job stunk as well. The job was in collections, which consisted of calling borrowers who either could not or would not make their loan payments. I later found out the job had been vacant for six months. Apparently, harassing irate, stressed-out people who are delinquent on their loan payments is not many people’s dream job. Nonetheless, it was a job, and I was grateful to receive a paycheck every two weeks.
Over time I moved through various jobs in different departments, eventually drifting into business banking, which at Old First Bank meant offering loans and deposit products to small businesses. The division’s target audience was businesses with revenue between $2 million and $20 million. Companies with less revenue tend to be too small to have any purchasing power and as such cannot afford to buy many of Old First Bank’s more expensive products. Conversely, companies with greater revenue have too much purchasing power and know that dozens of banks would gladly want their business. They regularly threaten to change banks unless pricing concessions are made. Banks have gone out of business not because they made bad loans to unprofitable businesses, but because they made unprofitable loans to good businesses.
Banking is a simple concept. Via checking accounts, savings accounts, and CDs, banks take in depositors’ money. Banks then sell those same deposits to other customers in the form of loans. The spread between what banks pay depositors in interest and charge borrowers in interest constitute the majority of a bank’s profit; less of course operating expenses and write-downs from borrowers failing to repay their loans.
As a newly minted business banker, the majority of my job involved prospecting for customers who were willing & able to both borrow and repay what they borrowed. The job would have been much easier if only willing was required. When it came to determining the able to repay portion of the equation, it was people in Credit Administration who possessed the supreme power to say yay or nay; ostensibly based on various financial ratios but more often their decisions seemed based on weather patterns, bio-rhythms or soggy tea leaves.
My role in the approval process was to meld the contrary ways that Credit Administration and the borrower interpret the very same set of facts. Applicants always believe business ranges from getting better to great, while Credit Administration leans towards catastrophe being around the next corner. We jokingly said that Credit Administration’s motto was that there are only two types of borrowers, the ones who have already gone bankrupt and those who are about to go bankrupt. On one hand, a banker must present a credit request in a positive enough light that Credit Administration will approve the deal - because a banker who does not book loans gets fired. On the other hand, misrepresentation of facts has led to the bank booking loans that do not get repaid, which is also bad - because too many charge-offs will also cause a banker to get fired. And one charge-off can be too many. Learning to properly balance the competing dualities of being too precise and being too creative is something that is not taught by any book that I know of.
As time passed and I saw more deals I got better with the finer details of the duality. A couple years back the economy was roaring, which helped me book a few really large deals and finish the year ranked Number One among the approximately 500 Relationship Managers. The commission check combined with some pleasant recognition by senior management had me feeling good, maybe even a little invincible.
Around that time, a headhunter called me about a can’t miss opportunity. I was not even looking for another opportunity, yet she insinuated that I was stagnating, that I needed change. She cleverly inserted how proud my mother would be if I were to take the job, as if it was some sort of family obligation. There was a large bank pushing into our market that needed someone to head up the business banking department, and they would dearly love to hire someone with my experience. Furthermore, they were offering a signing bonus and a lucrative commission structure. I considered the signing bonus and lucrative commission structure very important furthermores. The headhunter knew how to push my buttons and I did not resist them being pushed.
I was torn, Old First Bank was home, but this opportunity was very attractive. I prayed for an obvious sign, like God calling Moses from the Burning Bush. Instead, what reverberated between my ears was “more money…more money…more money…” Now God may have been sending me a signal, but in hindsight I am pretty sure these words were not His.
Exodus
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Some days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, where he squandered his property on dissolute living. After he had spent everything, a severe famine broke out throughout that country, and he was in dire need. So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country.
Luke 15: 13-15
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It is not that I was unsatisfied at Old First Bank; rather, I reasoned that a change of scenery may be more satisfying. And again, there was the ever-present allure of more money. I liked the idea of more money. With much sadness and nervousness, I gave my two weeks’ notice to leave Old First Bank. It all happened too quickly. I was done. It was strange to suddenly no longer be an Old First Bank employee. It was as if I had lost my identity.
Bank policy required that any departing employees with access to customer data immediately clean out their desks and exit the building upon resignation. This is like closing the barn door after the animals have escaped. Most employees have all the information they desire before they give notice. I was prepared; I thought that I was set for good times ahead.
Moving to National Financial Corporation was exciting, frightening and weird. I grew up at Old First Bank and knew every aspect of the bank; conversely I knew very little about National Financial Corporation. But heck, how tough could it be? I had succeeded in the past and fully expected to succeed at National Financial Corporation. I knew the market well and possessed a long list of potential customers, courtesy of my years at Old First Bank; customers who I hoped would be interested in my new employment address. This was possibly moronic optimism on my part.
National Financial Corporation was one of the nation’s largest banks, with hundreds of billions of dollars in domestic assets, plus a modest international presence. Compared to Old First Bank, National Financial Corporation’s product array was gargantuan; credit products ranged from billion-dollar syndicated facilities to, and I kid you not, $400 loans to buy cows. In addition to business loans, it offered everything from home mortgages to escrow services to insurance to brokerage to treasury management to student loans to basic checking accounts. You name it, National Financial Corporation offered it; almost too much to list and certainly too much to fully understand.
What I soon came to find out was offering it and offering it well are very different statements. I would compare Old First Bank to a small garage. It contained a limited number of tools that were always at your fingertips and there to help solve a limited number of problems. National Financial Corporation, on the other hand, was like a giant warehouse. It had tools for every possible situation. Unfortunately, the warehouse was so huge that you could never find that tool when you needed it. Navigating the maze of departments, systems, procedures, products, and what-cha-ma-call-its entailed calling one of the bank’s numerous 1-800 #’s. There were so many 1-800 #’s that the bank set up a 1-800 # to help bankers locate the proper 1-800 #. The notion of a direct line to a real person apparently went the way of the dinosaur - it was a thing of the past.
My job was to open a new territory for National Financial Corporation’s business banking division. Even though I had plenty of experience prospecting and underwriting credits, I struggled to understand the different personnel, computer systems, processes, policies, forms, products, operation centers, SLAs (service level agreements) and cultural quirks at National Financial Corporation. I was offered little training. Like me, everyone around me was also new; so they could offer little insight. My boss was located out of state. It was a lonely world.
I called my old clients, setup appointments and made loan proposals. For various reasons - pricing, structure, reputation, product features, underwriting criteria, turnaround times, secondary products, convenience or loyalty - not many customers moved to National Financial Corporation. The clients that did move ended up dissatisfied. Something always seemed to surprise them and me; a hidden fee appeared; a routine service issue took forever to fix; a system did not work as expected; product features were not as advertised; or simply no one called them back when they called the bank.
National Financial Corporation fostered internal competition, eliminating any sense of teamwork among the bankers. Uncover a problem and it was yours to fix. Lesson being - do not uncover problems. Unfortunately, the customers did not understand this lesson and continued to call me with their problems. My time was consumed with resolving customer service issues that should have taken minutes to fix, but were taking hours and even days. While this kept me busy, it was not getting me traction. At National Financial Corporation, I was doing less with more.
Wandering
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Coming to his senses at last, he said: How many of my father’s hired hands have more than enough to eat, while I am starving! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against God and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’
Luke 15:17-19
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At Old First Bank there were prospects that approached the bank simply because they always had, an existing customer referred them, they heard good things, or their folks banked at Old First Bank. Some bankers built their portfolios from these sources. National Financial Corporation had no such reputation or history in my region. National Financial Corporation never had the occasional ‘walk in’ prospect, repeat customer or company generated referral. I therefore was constantly searching for any and all possible scraps of business. After churning through my old client contacts, I resorted to cold calling from prospect lists. Cold calling is a tough way to earn a living; anyone who thinks differently…well, actually, I never met anyone who thinks differently.
Essentially, I was a mercenary - a hired gun whose singular purpose was to bring in loans. My day was spent dialing for dollars. My boss’s sole measure of my value was how many loans I funded. During our weekly one-on-one tele-meetings, where I hoped to learn more about products, processes or anything of value really, all I got from my boss was, “How many loans have you booked this week? What about next? You need to make more cold calls.” Thanks for the incredible insight and help…boss!
Then the economy slid into a deep recession. It was a multi-faceted whammy that attacked businesses on several fronts. As unemployment increased, consumers spent less. As a result, businesses sold less. Their financial conditions deteriorated, well below traditional underwriting guidelines, so the banks further reduced lending activity. Then as bankruptcies increased and banks did not get repaid, banks tightened credit standards for even their strong customers. Fewer companies had the ability to borrow and inject new funds into the economy, and the whole vicious downward cycle continued. People were stressed. Many were not so nice. Life was a little ugly.
Banking was ugly. With the number of strong customers dwindling dramatically, it made it nearly impossible to bring them over to National Financial Corporation because their existing banks would do almost anything to keep them. The marginal customers would not leave their banks either because they were hoping their loyalty during the good times meant something in bad times. The only prospects willing to talk with me were those being pushed out of their current bank. These companies were in trouble and even the most creative underwriting could not paint a healthy enough financial picture to get them credit approved. They were not bad people, just bad companies. Many went under.
Much to my dismay, the promise of more money that was fundamental to luring me to National Financial Corporation was in the form of a highly leveraged payout structure, consisting of a small salary with a tremendous upside in the form of commissions. If I generated loans, I would make a lot of money. If I did not generate loans, I earned diddly squat. Based on my Old First Bank production, I would be rolling in dough. Unfortunately, based on my actual National Financial Corporation production, I was earning closer to diddly squat. Eventually both the bank and I were a little resentful of each other about neither one of us making as much money as anticipated.
And, like my boss, I was beginning to tie my self-worth to my loan production, or more correctly lack thereof. This was probably wrong in good times; but it was certainly more depressing in bad times. I had no emotional connection to National Financial Corporation. I was lost in all directions – career, ability, passion, purpose and money. Life became a grind.
After more than a decade in the industry, I had expected to know more, to be more and to be secure with where I was in my career. I never imagined my parents having the same issues; they always acted like they knew everything. I presumed that by this point in my life I would be on cruise control, headed down the highway of steady promotions, with a comfortable retirement nearly visible just over the horizon.
Nevertheless, there I was, feeling as clueless as the day I started in banking, still groping for a career, searching for answers to questions that I had not fully formulated. My potential was being replaced with a sad actual. I thought I had let my friends and family down. Feeling isolated and frightened of my future, one evening I simply sat and cried, believing the walls of the universe were closing in on my life.
Now intuitively I knew life was really not as tragic as I had mentally made it out to be. I recognized and appreciated that I was not living in an oppressed third world nation starving to death. In third world countries you do not have the option of watching too much television, eating junk food of every imaginable variety and gaining twenty-five pounds while stressing over finding a fulfilling career. I knew things could be worse, much worse. But honestly, if I need to compare my situation in life to life in an impoverished nation in order to feel good – well, I do not think that is great progress either. Throw in the fact that I was neglecting my prayer life and I had created a dangerous imbalance in my life.
Stress kept me awake at night and I was bone tired during the day. It eventually became impossible pretending things at National Financial Corporation were going to magically get better on their own. In the end, what remained for me at National Financial Corporation was not passion, was not a career, was not a future; what remained were the daily tasks of searching for customers so I could earn a paycheck. That was not enough to satisfy me long term, and I increasingly dreaded getting out of bed each morning.
I needed to move beyond the problem and start focusing on the solution. My strategy of winning the lottery had not paid off, though on this point I still have hope. It was time to get motivated. I needed a new job.
Returning to Old First Bank was one option. However, after leaving them hanging and trying to steal their customers, I had nagging concerns that I was not worthy to be hired back.
Reconciliation
…
With that he set off for his father’s house. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and
put his arms around him and kissed him.
Luke 15:20
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I felt an urgency. It was one thing to be looking for a new job when you are a hotshot performer with stellar loan production numbers. It was something altogether different when my lower than hoped for sales numbers at National Financial Corporation were combined with a down economy; the job outlook was not shaping up to be to my advantage. No longer simply a naïve youth full of potential, I was approaching the age where you either climb the ladder or get pigeon holed forever into your current role. It is a plateau where you become labeled as that person who others come to when they want to understand how things were done before they were done the way they are done now. It is not a desired moniker.
Looking in the mirror was not the simple task it had been in my earlier days; for it exposed emotions beyond if my hair was properly combed. As I stared in the mirror I could only wonder “Is this the person who as a young child I thought I would be?” I was concerned about the many accomplishments I had hoped to achieve but seemed unlikely to ever realize. It is not that I always wanted to be somebody of significance, but I did hope to be somebody who did something significant. I had just not advertised this fact to others for fear of being mocked if I ended up…well…just where I was.
And to make matters worse, I was solely responsible for my situation. I promised myself that someday I would figure it all out. I intended to develop a complete plan for my life. But the planning to plan the plan always seemed to be planned for a day in the future - never today. The plan never materialized. My excuse was always the same; life’s busyness got in the way, I always had something else to do, making it impossible to construct my grand plan, let alone implement it.
My new job search strategy was the same as my last strategy in as much that I had no strategy. Well, that was not entirely true, I did have the outline of a strategy; two strategies actually. Strategy A hinged entirely on accidentally bumping into Elizabeth, my former Old First Bank boss, at one of the numerous industry functions. Strategy B was to keep trying Strategy A until Strategy A worked.
While it may not have been a bona fide miracle, I did believe it was a good talisman that Elizabeth was at the very next industry function…a conference on how to properly document business loans. She approached me with a warm smile and sincere greeting. Before I even had a chance to offer my repentance, she asked if I was ready to come back to the Old First Bank family. There was no lecture about whether I had learned my lesson, only acceptance of me and an open invitation to rejoin the team. She may have been slightly joking, but the hook was set and I was not going to let this one get away. I accepted before we even agreed upon what my salary or position would be.
My Return
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Take the fatted calf and kill it, let us eat and celebrate.
Luke 15:23
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Being either too busy or too ashamed to stay in touch while I was at National Financial Corporation, I had lost contact with many of my friends and former Old First Bank colleagues. Surprised at how separated from Old First Bank I had become, I was nervous to return.
Before my position was even finalized, Old First Bank published several press releases announcing my return. The bank sponsored a couple industry gatherings in my honor. Even though I knew most of the attendees were more interested in the quantity and quality of the free food and drinks than they were in my new role, truth be told, being the center of attention was pretty fun. And despite not having earned it, I enjoyed being wanted. I felt somewhat calmed in a way that is not easily put into words to be part of Old First Bank again.
Tribal Allotment
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Meanwhile the elder son was out on the land. As he neared home, he heard the celebration…and he was angry, and would not go in: therefore his father came out and asked him to join in. The son answered, ‘For years now I have slaved for you and you never celebrated my efforts. Yet when this son returns after having wasted your property, you host a celebration.’ The father replied ‘You have been with me always, and everything I have is yours. But we must also celebrate because this brother was dead and now he has come back to life.
Luke 15:25-32
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My last job at Old First Bank was as a Relationship Manager in the Business Banking Division. Relationship Managers are the bank’s foot soldiers who, as the name implies, manage a portfolio of business customers. Relationship Managers solicit, process and service a portfolio of loan and deposit accounts for the bank’s business customers. They must balance a cornucopia of administrative, training, marketing and compliance meetings. And just when a Relationship Manager thinks everything is under control, a customer issue appears out of nowhere and must be dealt with immediately, regardless of what other priorities may have been set for that day. The daily exercise requires simultaneously juggling numerous balls while focusing on the one that is the closest to hitting the ground. Above all, and between all the non-productive tasks, senior management’s number one priority for a Relationship Manager is to generate sales. All this is to say that Relationship Managers have tough jobs.
There are probably five hundred Relationship Managers at Old First Bank; they are then divided into 35 separate departments, with each department doing the same thing in the bank’s 35 different geographic locations. Some bankers were vocally disgruntled about how, while they had remained loyal to Old First Bank, the bank never published press releases or hosted functions honoring them. Rumors, innuendo and libelous tales about my impending return caused an immediate flood of speculation from many in those 35 departments. Gossip quickly spread about what my role would be, whether I would get any of my old territory and portfolio back, what my salary was going to be, and even where was I going to sit - in an office or a cubicle.
I could not understand why the Relationship Managers did not see the obvious; they had it completely backward. If I had understood then what I know now I would have never left Old First Bank. In the time since I had left, they had grown their customer bases, loan portfolios, referral sources, 401K’s, paychecks and the always important number of vacation days. I wanted what they had. Leaving Old First Bank had cost me dearly. I was starting all over again.
They did not care. They viewed the world as their territory and they were not about to relinquish one square inch – or one prospective customer. In my move back to Old First Bank, they not only offered me no help, they openly portrayed me as a traitor. And all this hostility was from my friends.
Breaking with the Past
And now I will make all things new again.
Revelations 21:5
Assistance
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The wind blows where it will, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.
John 3:8
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And that is how I got here. Lord please help me get it right this time.
It has been four months to the day since I returned to Old First Bank. My title is Construction Group Manager. Apparently, the fact that I was already familiar with Old First Bank’s culture and that I had booked a grand total of three construction loans during my stopover at National Financial Corporation qualified me to be the manager of the Construction Group. In fairness, Old First Bank does not have a long history in construction lending. When I previously worked at Old First Bank, there was no Construction Group. However, about a year ago Old First Bank purchased a small community bank, and along with the purchase came a department that specialized in construction lending.
Several months after the acquisition the group’s manager, who came to Old First Bank as part of the purchase, got frustrated and quit. In the process of moving to a competitor that same manager took several of the more experienced construction bankers with him. In the meantime, a couple of less experienced bankers transferred into the group to replace the experienced construction bankers. All the while, Old First Bank continually tweaked the group’s goals, products, policies, people and processes in an effort to integrate the group into Old First Bank’s established ways of doing business banking. During all this time, they did not hire a replacement manager for the Construction Group; instead, it was loosely overseen by a senior executive who did not live in the area, only adding to an atmosphere of uncertainty.
Today the group consists of twelve Construction Specialists who do only one thing, you guessed it, process construction loans. This is in contrast to Relationship Managers who work with their portfolios of clients to sell a wide array of products – loans, deposit, payroll, investments, merchant services, foreign exchange, etc. Despite doing only one thing, the group has gone through an amazing amount of change in its short lifetime. The Construction Specialists would argue most of the change has not been to their advantage. From what I have seen, I tend to agree.
Elizabeth, who had hired me, has since been promoted and is no longer associated with our department. But she assured me it was a great opportunity. I felt that this might be my chance to make a mark.
It took me until about mid-morning of my first day to question that assessment. On the day I started there were thirteen Construction Specialists in the group. While I was having my first cup of coffee on my inaugural day, one of them was nervously hovering around outside my office. I was flattered that she was so eager to meet me. When I invited her into my office to introduce ourselves, she immediately started apologizing and then quickly blurted out in a very nice voice, “Sorry Tom, but I found something better in the bank and today is my last day with this department. Please don’t take offense.”
None taken.
This unexpected moment turned out to be an appropriate initiation to a position that has provided many more surprises. It took me almost a month to realize that she left a couple construction requests festering unattended. Problems do not age well, and it was no fun informing the customers that there had been zero progress on their construction loans over the last four weeks. Yep, things started badly and went downhill from there.
…
Despite the inordinate amount of turmoil, the Construction Specialists have endured, I believe the group has potential. Sorry to say I have not been able to identify a miracle change, adjustment or tweak that suddenly rights the ship. Last month I made a list of things preventing the team from being more successful. The list started with 58 items. I have since added 17 more, while taking only three off. There are many little things that when viewed in isolation may make sense, but when integrated into the overall process results in a broken mess.
Today’s mess is Regulation B. Regulation B is a federally mandated ordinance requiring that all applicants get equal treatment. The bank’s Compliance Department is the group that interprets the various regulations for all the business units. The twisted logic with which that group, consisting of a bunch of by-the-books people who have never granted a loan in their collective lives, interprets federal regulations is a mystery. They interpret Regulation B to mean that all applicants must get equal treatment - fair enough so far. They then go on to mandate it that neither a credit approval nor a credit declination can be communicated to the applicant without first fully considering all aspects of a credit request. This includes review of a complete customer package.
While on the surface this may sound fair, some loan requests do not stand a chance of getting approved in a million years. Nonetheless, Compliance insists that the banker finish the effort of obtaining a financial package only to then turn around and say no. Even when the banker knew the answer would be a no before receiving the application. Who thinks that makes sense? Not the Construction Specialist. Not the applicant who had to make copies of all their tax returns and personal financial information. And not the Relationship Managers who referred to us their now upset customer and is now telling everyone in the bank who will listen that ours is a pathetic, troubled group.
Well, that is exactly what happened today. A compliance officer happened to be walking through our department when she overheard one of the Construction Specialist say on the telephone, “Sorry, based on what I have heard there is really no reason to proceed.” The compliance officer asked a few questions of the unsuspecting Construction Specialist and when the compliance officer came to the nightmarish realization that no formal application has been received, the group was instantly slapped with a Regulation B violation. I am tempted to mandate henceforward that a lawyer be present when a banker is talking to a Compliance Officer.
I would laugh at the absurdity of it all if I did not know that the banker feels terrible. It is going to take a lot of work to fix, and management really does not care how good our explanation is. They just see a Regulation B violation.
So instead of laughing, I think it better to have some coffee. Coffee is my most frequent method of procrastination. I am an equal opportunity consumer. It does not matter if I brew it at the office or buy it at a café, as long as it is hot and with cream - half & half is good, milk is not. Right now, I need to escape the office. For no reason other than proximity, my regular coffee shop is across the street from my office. I can buy a coffee and be back at my desk in less than ten minutes.
Approaching the front door of that coffee shop, I see there are already two Construction Specialists inside. Normally I enjoy joining Construction Specialists for a little java; it helps me stay connected with the mood in the office. And generally, I think they legitimately like me joining them, even if it is partially because I pick up the tab.
Today, however, I feel like getting away from anything associated with the office.
I decide upon a small hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that I pass each day while commuting and which is a couple blocks from my office. In a city with a coffee shop on every corner, walking a couple blocks for coffee is equivalent to driving cross country, which means there is no risk of me bumping into anyone from the bank. It is called the Coffee Gathering; I do not believe it is part of a chain. Never having been there, I half expect a cozy country cottage theme with tattered overstuffed chairs randomly set around a flickering fire. Surprisingly, it has a contemporary decor; high ceilings with slowly turning bamboo fans, clean lines, cheerful primary colors, a liberal combination of stone and steel used in the architectural details, and furniture that looks as if it popped out of the pages of a European magazine. The patrons appear to be an eclectic mix of ages, professions and ethnicities. The energy is palpable, with many customers seeming to know each other because they are having actual conversations – unheard of in modern society’s world of emails, messaging and voicemails. The Coffee Gathering could legitimately be labeled a hangout. I like it, though not enough to hang out – as usual I am in a hurry.
Waiting for someone to take my order, I look up and see a large, very old looking cross prominently hanging on the wall behind the counter. For some reason this catches me off guard. It is not that I am unfamiliar with religious symbols, but one rarely sees any signs of religion in my city’s financial district, or any city for that matter. Why such a common object seems out of place at a business I do not know. Maybe political correctness or maybe it is something else; I will think about it some other time. Right now I need to get my coffee and head back to the office.
‘Do not be anxious about tomorrow.’ (Matthew 6: 32-34)
It is the waitress talking to me. I must have been mentally drifting for I did not see or hear her approach. Can everyone read my thoughts that easily? “What…thank you for the advice.”
“Pull up a chair, enjoy your coffee; it is already poured.”
She does not understand that I am in a hurry. “No, I need the coffee to go.”
Ignoring my words, she continues. “You like it with cream, correct?”
For the first time I take notice. She is looking directly into my eyes, and waiting for me to say something. Glancing to my right, I notice there is a cup of coffee in front of an empty seat at the counter. It is already poured and with cream. It is also in a ceramic coffee mug and not a disposable-to-go cup. “I need to get back to work, please.”
“Tom you are anxious and upset about many things, but only one thing is necessary.’ (Luke 10:41-42) she says better than any psychologist could express.
That she knows my name catches me a little off balance. After standing there for a couple seconds, I realize that a to-go cup of coffee is clearly not forthcoming. Rather than hold up the line that is forming behind me, I sit down and take a sip. “Good coffee, it should keep me going awhile. Can I get the bill?”
Again, ignoring my request she says, ‘Whoever drinks the water I give him will never be thirsty; no the water I give shall become a fountain within him.’ (John 4:13-14)
“Okay, that is a pretty big claim for coffee. If you can bottle it you’ll be rich.”
‘The plans of the diligent are sure to profit, but all rash haste leads certainly to poverty.’ (Proverbs 21:5)
She is very quick with her quirky responses. I would normally counter with witty banter of my own, but I am confused by what is going on here. I am more Christian-ish than a hard core, Bible thumping, moral absolute do not eat meat on Friday kind of guy, but I am almost certain her words are from the Bible. “I really am busy; problems are stacking up back at the office.”
“Don’t worry, God won’t give you more than you can handle.” She pauses for a couple of seconds before breaking out in a smile. “Hey…I am just teasing you a little. Normally I don’t start off bombarding people with the words of the Bible. I prefer to ease into it, but you look like an emergency waiting to happen. Please, enjoy the coffee.” She smiles, and then leaves to help other customers.
Her words are from the Bible. Secretly I am pleased that not all my childhood religious education has been completely forgotten. Still, there is something about the whole scene that I cannot easily put into words and I am not sure how I feel about it. When meeting someone for the first time, quoting scripture is not the typical small talk; neither is mentioning God. Yet, the words feel in natural harmony with the Coffee Gathering and make me feel comfortable - actually, something more than comfortable, protected. And there is something about the waitress, like she knows something about me that I do not even know about myself, something genuine and special.
It has been awhile since I took an actual break during my work day. I do not think that I have ever not ordered my coffee to-go; well, technically, I still ordered it to-go, she just poured it to-stay. It feels good to sit, relax and watch the scene around me, if for no other reason than it is a good way to ignore what I know awaits me back at the office. Maybe I do worry too much. If the waitress is to be taken at her word, I need not be anxious. Unfortunately, the way the day is going I feel ill-equipped not to be anxious.
How I got to this stage in my career, I do not know. Is life one big déjà vu – been there, done that, doing it again? The depressing part is that if I had the chance to do everything over again, I would probably commit the same mistakes. Not because the ride has been so good or bad, but because I do not know how to do things differently.
Stop! Wow, one second, I am enjoying the coffee, and the next moment a little thought triggers a flood of emotions laced with self doubt. Without any further conversation or receiving a bill, I put a couple bucks on the counter and leave.
The last thing I hear as the door closes behind me is ‘Keep your eyes open, for you know not the day or the hour.’ (Matthew 25:13)