The "Stranger" allowed to stay in our
house.
by
Terri Brady
Long before I was born, my dad met a
stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated
with this enchanting newcomer, and soon invited him to live with our family.
As I grew up I never questioned why he was there.
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 spell-bound for hours each evening.
If I wanted to know about politics, history, or science, he knew it all. The pictures he could draw were so lifelike, that I would often laugh or cry as I watched and listened.
He was like a friend to the whole family. He took us to our first Major League ball game.
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. She’d go to her room and pray, I suppose.
You see, my Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but this stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house- not from us, 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.
Even though my dad didn’t approve of alcohol, the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer almost every day.
He made cigarettes look tasty; He talked freely about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.
The stranger began to discuss personal issues and ailments without regard to the tender ears that might be listening or the fact that it was at mealtime- some of the topics caused Mom to leave the table.
As I look back, I believe it was by 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.
Many years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He is not nearly as intriguing to my Dad as he was in those early years. But if you & I were to walk into my parent’s den today, you would see him standing prominently in the center of the main wall, waiting for someone to listen to him talk.
He never told us his name- we always used his initials: T.V.
As I grew up I never questioned why he was there.
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 spell-bound for hours each evening.
If I wanted to know about politics, history, or science, he knew it all. The pictures he could draw were so lifelike, that I would often laugh or cry as I watched and listened.
He was like a friend to the whole family. He took us to our first Major League ball game.
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. She’d go to her room and pray, I suppose.
You see, my Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but this stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house- not from us, 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.
Even though my dad didn’t approve of alcohol, the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer almost every day.
He made cigarettes look tasty; He talked freely about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.
The stranger began to discuss personal issues and ailments without regard to the tender ears that might be listening or the fact that it was at mealtime- some of the topics caused Mom to leave the table.
As I look back, I believe it was by 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.
Many years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He is not nearly as intriguing to my Dad as he was in those early years. But if you & I were to walk into my parent’s den today, you would see him standing prominently in the center of the main wall, waiting for someone to listen to him talk.
He never told us his name- we always used his initials: T.V.
GREAT post Courtney...such a creative way to look at a "force" that is shaping our society daily in small increments :) Thank you for sharing and reminding us of truth and the importance of guarding carefully the eyes and ears of the little ones the Lord has entrusted us with :) Love you my friend!
ReplyDeleteTrain up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. -Proverbs 22:6
ReplyDeleteLet no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. -1 Timothy 4:12
ReplyDeleteGreg talked about how absurd it would be to take the plumbing from our house and turn it around and let it all come right back in. He talked about letting sewage just flow into our house rising through out every day. Then He said we would NEVER allow that filth in our homes...but we are piping in the same filth in the electrical cord to our T.V.s!! Thanks for sharing this story Courtney. Its a good day to fast from the TV, right?
ReplyDeleteLoved it Courtney, thanks.
ReplyDelete