Just days after defending “Game of Thrones” against a friend who accused it of being actual porn, I watched, wide-eyed, as a most troubling sex scene played out on my screen. I was tempted to dial back my defense.
After all, I love Jesus. I work at a church. I write books for children. I have children. I get what people fret about when they watch — or read about — “Game of Thrones.”
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