Tip of My Iceberg

With my little sister in town, we decided to brave Orlando Wetlands for a walk and a little gator gazing.

From a distance.

It was a cold day, so I knew the alligators would be out sunning themselves because their cold-blooded bodies don’t naturally heat up like ours. This was my sister’s third time in the area–her hesitancy was less, but she was cautious, especially if I ventured too far to take a picture.

I’m not a fool. I live here, and I know what gators can do. They don’t zigzag when they run, as people think. They rise up on all fours and move forward at quite a rapid rate. My considerate husband reminded my sister that if a gator approached, she should shove me down first, then run like lightning.

I didn’t appreciate his humor.

The understatement of the sign—”Do not approach, feed, or harass the alligators,” made us both laugh. Wasn’t it common sense to not do any of that? Alligators do have a reputation of being carnivores–we are walking meat to them.

Alligators, however, seem almost dead or at least catatonic when they’re sunning themselves along a body of water. People approach them because they appear harmless. I’ve been to Gator Land and have seen how quick their responses are. Even when appearing inanimate, they can turn and snap at what is perceived as food quicker than anyone realizes.

But alligators don’t kill randomly; unprovoked attacks are rare. They strike when they feel threatened. Their home space–bodies of water–is where they feel competent and capable. I’d never suggest someone swim with gators–that’s sheer foolishness. But walking close to them when they’re on land is something one does with caution but not fear.

We all want to feel competent and capable in our work. We want to live and work in a place that seems made for us, where our skill set matches our job requirements. An alligator demonstrates its skill set every time it opens its mouth; the power of their jaws and sharp teeth are the reminder of what they’re capable of.

What each of us is capable of isn’t always obvious. Appearances don’t always indicate talent. My daughter Melody is a perky little dynamo with an infectious smile and manages to get more done than people give her credit for. My son Mark is an easy-going kind of guy who taught himself how to grow grapes and produce wine. What we’re capable of isn’t apparent with many first impressions.

When the apostle Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, they were struggling with making changes among themselves because their culture was more focused on achievement, power, and fortune. They sought to become genuine followers of Jesus. Paul reminded them that their competency wasn’t a matter of the will but of faith.

“Such is the confidence we have through Christ before God. It is not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God. He has made us competent to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter, but of the Spirt. For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” 2 Corinthians 3:4-6.

Alligators have a competency level I respect; I leave them at peace with a generous distance between us, demonstrating my regard for their sharp teeth and strong jaws.

We’ve each been gifted by God with skills and talents we can use to honor Him and thrive in the process. It may not be obvious what they are in the moment, but our adequacy comes from God, who knows us intimately and loves us with delight. We each have a competency from Him that gives us value greater than we can imagine.

Better than gator gazing.