Working in the film industry has broken my heart.
I have been wounded by porn, but this goes beyond my wound. It goes beyond my father's wound and stretches across humanity, scarred, torn down and broken by pornography and an incomplete, damaging view of sexuality.
We are not made to be objects. We are not made to be lusted after; we are made to be loved. You cannot compartmentalize pleasure from porn from the area of your brain that uses people. It's impossible.
The worst scenario? When the men that view porn don't think it's a problem. When they go to raunchy movies with guy friends and leave their wives at home because they're uncomfortable - but have been told the lie that this won't hurt their marriage, and accept that porn and erotica are natural, good parts of life.
How broken are we that we see sickness and call it health! How broken are we that we joke about a disease as though it's a silly fact of life?
We need healing. We need understanding. And before we can come to any of these, we need honesty. When we joke about porn, it becomes normal. It's easier to ignore it; but that's not an option if we ever want to heal.