The heart is deceitful above all things, and
desperately wicked: who can know it?
desperately wicked: who can know it?
— Jeremiah 17:9
I've so far avoided mention of a close friend's deception, so heinous and unfathomable it defies explanation.
It's been just under two years since I learned that a former coworker, client and colleague had been leading a secret life as a child pornographer, a crime for which he's now serving 10 years in a federal prison; and a crime that will shadow him, no matter what, for the rest of his natural life.
I could readily forgive philandering, bigamy, cross-dressing, a shoe fetish, tax evasion, cat-burglary, drug-trafficking, assassination—even secret membership in the Boogaloo Bois. But the production and interstate distribution of child porn?
Who can know the wicked heart? Not I.
If you asked me to describe my friend two years ago, I would without hesitation have said he's a quietly devoted family- and businessman, with a passion for thrillers and minor-league baseball; socially and politically mainstream; quick to win over others with charm, praise, and wit; and able to inspire coworkers to excel. It never occurred to me—until I read the DOJ's brutally stark press release—my friend led a separate, secret, criminal life.
A secret life, psychiatrists say, provides a safe haven in which we can explore "who we really are."
Given the magnetic power of compulsions, that's terrifying.
Given the magnetic power of compulsions, that's terrifying.
