Profound Perspectives

13/07/2025

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13/07/2025

I JUST DON\'T UNDERSTAND HOW SOMEONE CAN COME TO CHURCH LIKE THIS! Yesterday, I saw a young woman in church wearing a mini-skirt, crop top, high heels, and tattoos covering her whole body. I know people say that appearance doesn\'t matter and that faith is what counts, but honestly, I feel like the younger generation has lost all sense of respect, especially in a sacred space like church. Am I the only one who thinks this way? What happened to dressing modestly and respectfully? Would love to hear your thoughts on this! Full story in the first comment 👇

13/07/2025

I CARED FOR MY HUSBAND THROUGH CANCER—WHEN HE DIED, HIS KIDS THREW ME ON THE STREET

I met Elias when I was 39. He was 52, charming, thoughtful—the kind of man who made you feel safe just by standing next to him. We married a year later, and I loved him in ways I didn’t even know love could stretch.

Then he got sick.

Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. The kind that doesn’t wait.

For two years, I fed him, bathed him, held him through the pain. His kids, Maya and Jordan, visited once in a while, but they never stayed long. Work was always so demanding, and they “couldn’t handle” seeing their father like that. But I handled it. Every day. Every night. Until the last breath left his body.

Then, the day after the funeral, they showed up at our house. My house.

“We’re selling the property,” Jordan said, sitting in Elias’s favorite chair, his arms crossed like a king on a throne.

Maya stood next to him, scrolling on her phone. “Dad left it to us. You need to be out by the end of the week.”

I thought it was a joke. “Elias would never do that.”

But Jordan just tossed a folder onto the coffee table. A will. Signed. Notarized. The house, the bank accounts—everything—was theirs.

“You can keep your clothes, obviously,” Maya said, like she was doing me a favor.

I stared at the papers, my head spinning. “This doesn’t make sense. I was his wife. I—”

“Yeah,” Jordan interrupted. “But you weren’t our mother.”

And just like that, I was nothing to them.

A week later, I stood on the sidewalk with two suitcases, watching strangers tour my home, commenting on the “charming hardwood floors” I had polished with my own hands.

Then my phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

“Check the storage unit on Fremont. Locker 112. Dad wanted you to have it.”

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. Because Elias never mentioned a storage unit.

And I had no idea who sent the text.

— — — continues in the first 💬⬇️

12/07/2025

I Refused to Give Up My Plane Seat for a Mom and Her Baby—Everyone Thinks I’m Heartless but I Don't Think So Because...
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It was a long flight, and being a tall guy, I’d picked an aisle seat near the front to stretch out and get off quick when we landed. Squeezing into a middle seat for ten hours? Sounded like pure misery.
Boarding went fine—until a woman with a baby stopped by my row. “Hey,” she said, “could you swap seats so I can sit with my husband? I’m in 32B.”
I checked her ticket. Middle seat. All the way in the back.
I said sorry and that I’d rather keep my seat. She let out a big sigh and mumbled, “Wow, really?” Loud enough for everyone around to hear.
A few passengers gave me dirty looks. One guy even said, “Come on, man, it’s for a mom and her kid.” But I held my ground. I paid extra, planned it out, and it wasn’t my fault the airline messed up their seats.
The flight attendants didn’t make me move, but the vibe was heavy the whole time. When we landed, I heard her tell her husband, “Some people got no heart.”
Now I’m wondering—did I really mess up?
As the plane rolled to the gate, I could feel the bad vibes still hanging around. A few folks shot me side-eyes, but I brushed them off. No way was I saying sorry for keeping the seat I paid for. If it was a fair swap, like aisle for aisle, I might’ve thought about it. But giving up my front-row aisle for a middle seat in the back? No way.
The mom held her baby tight as she stood up, her husband right beside her. He was a stocky dude in cargo shorts and a hoodie, and he threw me a quick, annoyed glance before focusing on his wife. “Babe, it’s okay. Let’s just go.”
She huffed, clearly steamed, and headed for the exit.
I grabbed my carry-on and walked down the aisle. As soon as I hit the terminal, I saw her again near baggage claim. With her husband there, she seemed even more fired up, like his presence gave her a boost.
She spun around to a gate agent nearby. “Hey!” she snapped. “I need to make a complaint.”
The agent, a worn-out woman in her forties, raised an eyebrow. “What’s the problem, ma’am?”... (continue reading in the 1st comment)

12/07/2025

Details. ⬇️

12/07/2025

Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani didn’t post a press release or send a check, they loaded up their truck and drove into downtown Kerrville with food, water, and blankets. Survivors say they didn’t just help, they showed up, hugging strangers, listening to their pain, and standing alongside volunteers handing out supplies... See more 👇

12/07/2025

Her body has now been found.

12/07/2025

Armed woman tries to...See more

12/07/2025

His last message now haunts the family left behind 💔👇🏻

12/07/2025

12/07/2025

You will never see mosquitoes again if you do THIS 💪👇.