I Dreamed of Bees
Yes, I had a dream and in this dream, there was a queen, and around her were baby bees being tended in honey. Bees came and went with quiet purpose, harvesting, returning, storing. Everything in the hive moved in order. No confusion. No waste. Every motion served life, growth, and the sustaining of the whole.
As I leaned in to observe more closely, the bees began to land all over me. Panic rose, and I woke up.
Later that day, while driving through neighborhoods filled with homes, boats, cars, and toys, my heart grew heavy. I began to think about how much time, money, and energy we pour into things that hold no eternal value. Things that can’t save us. Things that can’t heal. Things that can’t rescue a single soul from darkness.
I thought of the homeless, the addicted, those who’ve never known Christ. And I couldn’t help but wonder if the Lord was connecting the two.
Scripture tells us, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19–20).
Bees don’t hoard aimlessly. They gather with intention. Everything they collect is used to sustain life. Nothing is wasted. Their labor honors the queen and provides for the next generation.
How different this is from the way the world teaches us to live.
Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21).
As I watched the bees in my dream, I saw devotion, order, and purpose. As I watched the world awake, I saw distraction, excess, and misplaced worship. The contrast was stark.
The panic in my dream came when I got too close. Perhaps that nearness was an invitation, not a threat. A reminder that living with eternal priorities isn’t comfortable, especially when it presses against the ways of the world.
Scripture reminds us, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2).
The bees knew what mattered. They honored their queen. They worked for life, not luxury. They invested in what would outlast them.
And so, these questions settle in my heart. What am I gathering for? Who am I honoring? And will what I spend my life on feed the souls entrusted to me?
“Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33).
I desire to live with that kind of clarity. May I labor for what gives life and only store up what eternity will remember.
Later, as I continued to sit with this dream and the heaviness that followed, I was reminded that none of this is accidental. Not the dream, not the ache in my heart, not the way my eyes were drawn to the contrast between earthly excess and eternal need.
Scripture tells us that God is both provident and sovereign. He isn’t reacting to our lives. He’s orchestrating them.
“The LORD has established His throne in heaven, and His kingdom rules over all” (Psalm 103:19).
If I belong to Him, then even my unrest has purpose.
Jesus said, “My sheep listen to My voice; I know them, and they follow Me” (John 10:27). Sheep don’t chart their own course. They’re led. And bees don’t wander aimlessly either. They move according to a design woven into them. Their labor is instinctive, ordered, and communal. Each one plays a role in sustaining life far beyond itself.
So it is with those who belong to Christ.
“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Ephesians 2:10).
Every experience, every burden, every holy discomfort is part of the Father’s careful shaping. Not a single moment is wasted. What feels heavy is often the weight of being entrusted with eternal vision.
“The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in Him;” (Psalm 37:23).
Even my grief over misplaced priorities in the world is a form of calling. A reminder that I’m not meant to labor for personal gain alone, but to be aligned with Heaven’s harvest.
Jesus looked at the crowds and was moved with compassion, and He said, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few” (Matthew 9:37).
Perhaps the dream wasn’t merely about observation, but participation. Not just watching the hive but being drawn close enough to feel it. To be covered by it. To recognize that my life, too, is meant to be spent in service for something far greater than comfort or accumulation.
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28)
This means that nothing in the life of a child of God is random. Not dreams, not burdens, not the grief we feel over misplaced priorities in the world, not even the discomfort that rises when our hearts are aligned with Heaven while we walk through a culture chasing what can’t last.
The Father isn’t merely observing our lives. He is actively weaving them.
“In Him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of Him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of His will, in order that we, who were the first to put our hope in Christ, might be for the praise of His glory.”
The bees in my dream were diligent, purposeful, and devoted. Yet even they weren’t the center of the hive. Everything revolved around the queen.
Perhaps that is the final lesson I was meant to see. The harvest isn’t mine. The burden of saving people isn’t mine. The responsibility of changing hearts belongs to God alone.
My calling isn’t to become consumed with the needs of the world, but to remain close to Christ and obedient to whatever assignment He places before me. Jesus said, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).
Fruit isn’t produced through striving. It’s produced through abiding.
When I look around, I can easily become overwhelmed by the magnitude of the need. There are hurting people everywhere. There are souls wandering without hope. There’s more work than any one person could ever accomplish.
But God has never asked me to carry the whole harvest. He’s simply asked me to follow the Shepherd. The Father who stirred my heart is the same Father who appoints every field, every season, and every assignment. He knows where He’s sending me. He knows the lives He’s calling me to touch. He knows the good works He prepared beforehand for me to walk in.
My task isn’t to chase every need, but to remain faithful to His voice.
The bees moved according to the design placed within them. How much more should I trust the One who designed me?
So, I pray for the grace to stay centered in Christ, to labor where He leads, to rest when He says rest, and to trust Him with the results. For in the end, the goal isn’t simply to work for the Kingdom. The goal is to walk so closely with the King that my life naturally bears fruit for His glory.
“Therefore, my beloved brothers and sisters, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the Lord’s work, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58).
May my life be spent on what matters eternally, not driven by guilt or urgency, but by love, obedience, and the quiet confidence that the One who calls is also the One who accomplishes His purposes.