The Surprising Wisdom of Ants



If you had told me 25 years ago that I would one day order a package of ants in the mail, I would have laughed in disbelief.

But I did not know, 25 years ago, that there were such things as ant farms: miniature terrariums where you could observe a colony making their subterranean labyrinths. I did not know, 25 years ago, that I would have two small boys with an irrepressible love of multi-legged creatures.

How could I have known that, late one night—bundled under blankets and bulky expectations for the perfect “boy” birthday—I would click “buy now” for an online order of a space-age looking ant farm, and one small vial of harvester ants?

The ants arrived in a manila envelope, squirming in their glass tube. Upon the advice of the packet, I refrigerated the ants for a few minutes for optimal sluggishness (because they bite, you know.) The gel-filled ant farm had arrived days before, and my kids ogled as I tipped the ants into their new home.

“Why aren’t they doing anything?” asked my eldest.

“You’d also be confused if you’d been mailed in an envelope half-way across the country and then stuck in a refrigerator. Give them a minute: they’ll start wiggling soon,” I replied, wondering how we could pass the time while they thawed.

“Did you know there are ants in the Bible?” I offered. “There’s a proverb that says: consider the ways of the ant, you sluggard, and be wise.”

“What’s a sluggard?” asked my five-year-old.

“A lazybones,” I replied. “God says one good thing we can learn from watching ants is how to be good workers.”

My children shrugged, but the proverb continued to reverberate through my mind as we watched the colony. In the midst of some discouragement in my own work—discouragement that leads me inevitably to delay and distraction—I found myself watching the ants. Studying them. Considering them. Seeking wisdom.

Consider the ways of the ant: see how no one ant works alone? Each ant works shoulder to shoulder with the others, divvying up the work, doing its part. They know the meaning of community: they share life and load from birth to death, and even beyond—for when one dies, the others carry its body to the surface. Consider the ways of the ant, and learn that community achieves more than competition.

Consider the ways of the ant: see how small a speck each one carries every trip? Watching them under a magnifying glass, I see their tiny mandibles scrape almost imperceptible particles of gel. They maneuver each speck with attention and precision, and then make their way slowly back up the tunnel, carting that one tiny piece to the surface. Each morning, we marvel at how far they’ve come. When work seems tedious and pointless, consider the way of the ant: a lifetime of small, faithful choices can move an entire community deeper.

Consider the ways of the ant: see how they are tunneling through gel? Space-age nutrient gel is not a substance found in nature: ants prefer to tunnel in soil and earth. And yet, as the pamphlet points out, even though the environment is foreign, the ants will still tunnel, because it is just what they do. They will work faithfully even when circumstances are less than ideal. No matter what goop they find themselves in, they band together and get busy.

My children are counting legs and mapping tunnels and drawing pictures of tiny ant faces as they sit in front of the ant farm. But I am considering the ways of the ant, and thinking that perhaps I’m feeling stuck because I’ve forgotten the collective and communal importance of our Kingdom efforts. What we do is more important than what I do. Perhaps I need reminding that, like tiny specks of dirt gritted between teeth, our small labors—done unto Him—are not in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58). And perhaps we all need to hear the whispered wisdom of the ants: it doesn’t matter where we land, because God has given us work to do. It’s in our nature.

And so, word by word, deed by deed, and speck by speck, I’m tunneling. The tunnels are not always straight, but that’s what happens when you’re working alongside others.

Minute by minute, it doesn’t look like much at all, but by God! Just wait ’til you see how far we’ve come in the morning.


Image credit: Christian Jiménez

Bronwyn Lea
Bronwyn Lea is a South-African born writer-mama, raising little people in California and raising eyebrows at Fueled by grace, caffeine and laughter, she writes about the holy and hilarious in life, faith and family. Connect with her on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest.
Bronwyn Lea
Bronwyn Lea


  1. Suzanne Burden says:

    Well done, sister…in a time when we face so many distractions from every corner, consider the ant. Contemplating with you.

  2. Great word, Bronwyn! That verse us one of the ones from my childhood that made an early impression on me. I love how you unpacked it.

    • It’s funny how some of those early childhood verses just sit in the recesses of our minds, and years later take on so many new layers of meaning. It makes me wonder which of the songs/verses from my kids’ childhood will stick with them over the years.

  3. So good, Bronwyn. Thank you.

  4. I love how Jesus reminded you of faithfulness from these humble creatures. Sometimes, we have to do our head down and just be true to our calling–however bewildered we might feel. Thanks for this, Bronwyn!

  5. pastordt says:

    Love this, Bronwyn – such lovely analogies. Thank you.

  6. Lindsey Smallwood says:

    Oh Bronwyn, the wisdom is everywhere! Love how God brought the proverb to light for you. And the last line is the best – just wait to see how far we’ll go by morning. I’ll be looking at ants with a new appreciation today.

  7. OH, this makes me nostalgic for the days of blue goo and ant farms — and boys hollering at one another: “Go to the ant, thou sluggard!” if they thought a brother was being lazy. Like most of us, they missed the point that the Word of God is not for beating other people over the head, but for a mirror to show us our own need. And so, today, I’ll do my “speck by speck” tunneling alongside you — even thought we’re on opposite coasts — and I’ll be encouraged even though my tunnels run crooked and, sometimes, into dead ends. Thank you for persevering.

  8. Bev Murrill says:

    AND…. words by words, specks by specks …. all your tunneling and all mine and all ours… all together… what amazing tunnels we’re digging, what astonishing building we’re doing…

    I thank God that even though you and I and all the rest of we SheLovelies are doing our own tunneling, we’re building together to make something GREAT! That’s what Dangerous Women do!

    Nice to hold hands across the miles with you, Bronwyn… (even though we might walk past each other in the street and not know we are us).

    • I believe one day we will meet face to face on this side of glory, Bev: even if we need name tags to make the introduction! I love the colony of tunneling SheLovelies!

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