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My Parents And Broken Parents

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When I was younger I was always thankful my parents weren’t divorced. I saw classmates struggle with the pain of separated parents. I heard horror stories of them arguing and children having to pick sides. It sounded like hell. I knew I was lucky. I got to go home and not have to go to sleep covering my ears with my pillow, drowning out parents yelling. I was surrounded by love everywhere I looked. My little, narrowminded self thought I had it better simply because I had parents that never fought in front of me and lived in the same house. However, I stand here today with divorced parents, and a completely different mindset on love.
October 18th, 2014. It was a cool, fall day in Saint Paul, Minnesota. The trees were different shades of red, orange, and yellow. I admired them as I peered out the window of the Xcel Energy Center, a hockey arena being used for a Women of Faith Conference. I could smell the cold ice under the floor when I sat in my seat all the way up in the nosebleed section. I was ready for another day of inspiring, tear jerking stories and powerful music to bring me closer to God, but God had a little something extra for me that day.
It came to the point in the conference where we heard from World Vision, an incredible organization that helps children all over the world have the opportunity to make a life for themselves. I had a love hate relationship with this portion of the day. Of course, I loved seeing children with joy in their eyes after being

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