There is a chilling interview of a man who admitted to raping and killing over thirty women and girls. He described his home as loving and his parents as diligent in their efforts to protect their children. To anyone who knew him he looked normal.

But he was trapped in the hurricane of pornography.

He spent ten years in prison and said that without exception every violent offender was deeply entrenched in porn, driven by the unquenchable lust for an ever escalating rush.

It breaks my heart. 

A few hours after he spoke, he was executed. 

There are forces that I cannot safeguard myself from. When a torrential rain hit my town last week, and it was time to lock up the chickens, no umbrella could keep me dry. A school near my mother in law was flattened that night by a tornado. If the principal had wanted to somehow shield the building with sheer will power and cardboard she would have been flung into the black sky. 

I believe in a merciful God, and I wonder what the aftermath looks like for a man who was in over his head. How can healing begin? Can healing begin? Those women and girls can never be brought back to this earth. Their families will not forget the anguish. 

But I am clear that staying clear of porn is a matter of lives and deaths.