During our Saturday morning devotional, I told our assembled disaster response team, “Do not elevate projects over people. We’re here to serve and connect with human beings—to show them the love of Christ, to offer encouragement and hope. Although we’re cutting up a lot of trees this week, we’re not in the tree business. We’re in the people business. Downed trees are the means to the end. So, let’s focus on people.”

For once, I took my own advice. The person I would try to encourage today and, as it turns out, be encouraged by, was Stephanie Peterson of Valdosta’s Blossom Bee Removal. This amazing elementary school Ag teacher, mother, and bee expert agreed to extract a beehive from the hollow of a downed tree that our team had pulled from a roof at Georgia Christian School. Her willingness to help came with a caveat: “I’ll need someone to cut open the tree with a chainsaw… but I have an extra XL bee suit.” Yikes!

Carving up an active beehive with a chainsaw in 90-degree heat seemed high-risk and ill-advised. Sort of like climbing into the cockpit of an F-16 with a fighter pilot named “Bubba”—something I had done at nearby Moody Air Force Base 30 years earlier. Or swinging from a waterfall vine in Maui. Or walking from Georgia to Maine. Unfortunately, leaving a downed tree full of 60,000 or so bees in a schoolyard also involves risk. So, Stephanie and I agreed to meet at 11 a.m. to try to save the hive and not die in the process.

As she helped me don a suit last worn by Buzz Aldrin during the Gemini 12 mission, I worried about the gaps around my ankles. “Yeah, you might feel a few stings down there,” she said. “But it’s not too painful.” I heard those exact words from a Tucson gastroenterologist in 2017 before my first colonoscopy… I didn’t believe him either. But I otherwise trusted Stephanie—she was licensed, certified, experienced, and as sweet as… wait for it… honey. She was also gracious in fielding the scores of questions Fob W. Honeypot would throw at her throughout the day. 

As we cut open the hive, sucked bees with a vacuum, and hunted for the queen, I learned or was reminded of some things:

1. Every honeybee has a job to do, and each role is important to sustain the hive. Stephanie pointed out workers who nurse the brood and janitors who clean the hive. They serve the queen, who lays lots of eggs and produces chemical scents to regulate the unity of the colony. The drones, bless their hearts, exist for the opportunity to mate with the queen, continue eating, watch sports on TV, and then die. The queen gets most of the attention, of course, but each bee is vital to the survival of the hive. The same is true in disaster relief operations—we need leaders who provide vision and make decisions, but also our cooks, administrators, tool guys, and volunteer laborers. Together, we form a cohesive team that accomplishes the mission. The same is true for the church. In God’s eyes, the preacher is valued no more or less than the church janitor, the communion preparer, or the A/V person. In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul writes about how the various parts of the body (the church) make up a complete whole. Each has a valuable role. We don’t need the knee to be an elbow. We don’t need five ears. We don’t need the ankle to feel unappreciated, or the nose to look down on the armpit. In the church and in a honeybee colony, we just need everyone to pitch in and do their part.

2. Elderly “forager” bees are also vital to the hive’s survival. Stephanie said that near the end of a worker bee’s life, her role switches to foraging. When they are three to six weeks old, depending on the season, workers will leave the colony during daylight hours to forage for food. They’ll travel up to five miles from the hive, guided by the sun, gathering pollen and nectar. By doing so, they are not just sustaining the hive, but sustaining our ecosystem and food supply. Once foraging begins, these selfless bees are nearing the end of their life. All the flying will quickly wear out their wings and they are unable to repair damaged wing tips. In a final act of selfless service, the foragers die serving the colony. Elderly Christians, listen to me: we need you to serve your church and your community, as best you can, until the very end! While your specific roles will vary based on health and other factors, you don’t need to sit around bemoaning the fact you can’t do what you once did. Instead, do what you can. Finish strong because your colony—the church—needs you. Forage until your wings fall off and God calls you home!

3. Solutions are sometimes only revealed in our stillness. After 45 minutes of carving up the tree trunk, examining honeycomb, and siphoning bees, the hive was irate and swarming. Worse still, we hadn’t located the queen, putting our goal to relocate her and the colony in jeopardy. “Let’s take a break and sit in my air-conditioned truck,” Stephanie suggested. Dripping with sweat from every pore, I nodded and shed my protective suit. Inside the truck, she said, “They’re confused right now. We’ve turned their lives upside down. We need to give them time to reconstitute. You see, it’s all about the queen. Once they settle down and pick up her scent, they’re going to rally around her. When we return and find the crowd, we should find the queen.” Not surprisingly, Stephanie was right. Once we returned, refreshed, we located a crowd of bees on a piece of honeycomb nestled inside a cut of wood off to the side. After a few minutes of moving the pile around with her index finger, Stephanie shouted, “I found her! Yes!” Sure enough, the oversized queen with her yellow abdomen came into view, and Stephanie quickly captured her in a little bee box. Based on Stephanie’s excitement, I knew this was the most critical step. But we achieved that goal not through activity but rather momentary inactivity. We sat passively in the truck and let the colony settle. Solutions to our most pressing problems may sometimes be revealed not by working harder but rather when we take time to “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

4. Invasive species will kill a hive. After removing a section of honeycomb, Stephanie pointed at a tiny dark object and commented, “Look, a small hive beetle. Not good.” She explained that since the bees’ stingers can’t penetrate the beetle’s shell, the best they can do is push the intruder to the outer edge of the honeycomb and hope for the best. A moment later, Stephanie examined the next layer of honeycomb and said, “Look here, this is even worse… small hive beetle larvae. They’re burrowing into the comb, eating brood, honey, and pollen. An infestation like this is going to cause the hive to “slime out” and die or at least force the bees to find a new home. We got here just in time!” Once again, I saw a spiritual application. We may be tempted to allow Satan, the intruder, to occupy a small space on the outskirts of our homes and lives. With that foothold established, he’s positioned to tempt us into more and more sin—the larvae. Our unchecked desires “give birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death” (James 1:15). Friends, we can’t allow Satan—the small hive beetle—to take occupancy in our lives and destroy our families and ourselves.

5. We serve an eternal King and are headed to an eternal home. Despite the best efforts of tens of thousands of worker bees and caring bee enthusiasts like Stephanie, the queen’s days are numbered. She will eventually die and be replaced. The beehive that she and her colony worked so hard to establish and maintain is also temporary. One day, some storm, disease, exterminator, bear, or beetle will kill it. The beehive, like everything else we can see, is temporary (2 Cor. 4:18). I’m thankful that Jesus is our eternal King, seated at the right hand of God (Col. 3:1). I’m also grateful that He has prepared an eternal heavenly home for Christians, and that one day He’s returning to take us there (John 14:2-3).

After another hour of vacuuming bees, Stephanie loaded her equipment along with the queen, her entourage, and several pieces of honeycomb. Two hours later, at her third bee extraction of the day, she called to ask if I could stop by with the chainsaw to assist her in saving another bee colony. I agreed because Stephanie is the kind of person you want to go the extra mile for. I so appreciate her enthusiasm, her love of nature, and her willingness to take me on as a chain-sawing, bee-whispering apprentice, if only for a day.

The more I learn about honeybees—their teamwork, communication, purpose, and design—the more impressed I am with their Creator. Wherever there is design in the universe, there must be a Designer. When I witness honeybees and all the other amazing creatures roaming our planet, I’m reminded that we serve an awesome, creative, wonderful God.