By Jennifer Greene-Sullivan
This past summer, my family and I took a trip to Key West, Florida. Ever since I left my ELA classroom in 2024 to work for our family business, S&S FAB and Welding in Cochran, I’ve deliberately booked my dream literary vacations. My family just goes where I plan, and this time, I had my heart set on visiting the Hemingway House.
As it often happens in my life, the Lord has other ideas about what I will most enjoy on vacation.
Our first stop was the Key West Butterfly and Nature Conservatory. All seven of us—my husband, our four daughters, our son, and me—stepped into the warm, humid vestibule before entering the exhibit. Fans hummed overhead, and butterflies moved freely through the air. I found myself watching my children more than the scenery, smiling as they moved from one tree to the next, laughing and soaking in the beauty around them.
Momentarily, my heart felt full and blessed.
We are a blended family. Chris and I married over ten years ago, bringing together children from two separate lives. We later had a son together and adopted another child from a broken situation. By the world’s standards, our story may look complicated—maybe even broken. I once had someone tell me that blended families never truly work.
However, what the world does not understand is this: what God restores cannot be separated.
While reflecting on the goodness of God in our family, a large blue and black butterfly with torn wings landed gently on my hand. It stayed there for several minutes, long enough for me to take in every detail of its worn, tattered edges.
It remained still.
Still beautiful.
Still whole.
Still able to fly.
In that quiet moment, I was reminded of the truth in Scripture: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3, ESV). What looked damaged was not beyond His care.
When the butterfly lifted off, it didn’t struggle. It soared upward, rising toward the glass enclosure as if nothing had ever been wrong, and in that moment, I saw redemption anew.
I once thought redemption was a one-time event—the moment I gave my life to Christ. As my relationship with Jesus grows, I find redemption is ongoing. It happens daily, moment by moment, through the resurrection power of Jesus.
Today may feel heavy, but the same power that raised Jesus from the dead is still at work—renewing, restoring, and rebuilding what was lost. Jesus Himself reminds us, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10, ESV).
If you believe you’ve gone too far, I know Someone who restores.
If your relationships feel beyond repair, I know Someone who redeems.
Jesus REDEEMS—yesterday, today, and forever.
Let Him into the broken places. Let Him heal the tattered thoughts, the weary heart, and the places you’ve tried to hide. Upon surrender, He will work as only He can.
Because even now—torn wings still fly.
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