Houseguest.

Isn't it amazing what influence a houseguest can have on a family? I received this from one of my friends this morning.

THE STRANGER
Author Unknown

A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our town.
From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon
invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up I never questioned his
place in our family. Mom taught me to love the Word of God, and Dad taught me to
obey it, but the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole
family spellbound for hours each evening. He was like a friend to the whole family. He
took Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always
encouraging us to see the movies, and he even made arrangements to introduce
us to several movie stars. The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn't seem to mind,
but sometimes Mom would quietly get up while the rest of us were enthralled with one of
his stories of faraway places, go to her room, read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if
she ever prayed that the stranger would leave. You see, my dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but this stranger never felt an obligation to honor them.
Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house-not from us, from our friends,
or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four-letter words that burned
my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge the stranger was never confronted.
My Dad was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol in his home, not even for cooking,
but the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life.
He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often. He talked freely (much too freely)
about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts of the man/woman relationship were influenced by the stranger. As I look back, I believe it was because of the grace of God
that the stranger did not influence us more. Time after time he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave. More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the young family on Morningside Drive. But if
I were to walk into my parents' den today, you would still see him sitting over in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name?

We always just called him TV.

I have a situation at the moment with a houseguest but I will have to tell you about it at a later stage. I just had to share the above piece with you and when you read my next post, you will probably understand more.