At the beginning of our marriage, my husband, Scott, and I invited a guest into our home.

We had both known this individual since childhood, but when we were dating, Scott's attachment to him seemed unhealthy. Scott would break dates with me to spend time with him. When we became engaged, I feared he might interfere with our marriage. Scott insisted he wouldn't, but even on our honeymoon night, the two of them spent time together. I should have said "no" from the start about having him live with us, but in small doses he could be quite entertaining, and he did have a spiritual side.

From the beginning of our marriage, Scott spent more time with this guy than with me. Often I felt hurt and neglected. In the early days, I begged Scott to put our relationship first, but he had become stuck like glue to this "friend." He was definitely funnier and more entertaining than I. How could I ever compete with the intriguing and humorous stories he had to tell? I started to go out in the evenings and take classes or spend time with friends because I felt so lonely when Scott would ignore me and keep all of his attention focused on his friend. One tactic I used early on to try to get Scott's attention was exercising in front of the two of them — in my bathing suit. But it was as if I was invisible.

Also from the beginning of our marriage, Scott wouldn't come to bed at the same time I did. He stayed up late listening with fascination as this guest entertained him with his wit and charm. And as time went on, I realized that the guest was stealing from us. I tried to tell Scott about it, but he insisted that nothing was missing, and that this guest was still wonderful and fun to be with. Scott would say, "And he's so smart too; I've learned so much from him." I explained that he was stealing intangibles, like Scott's time and attention, and his spiritual sensitivity. How could Scott answer God's call on his life if he listened to this guy hour after hour? When would God have a chance to break in?

Time and again I told Scott this guest was hurting our relationship and his relationship with his children and with God, and that if love truly was spelled T-I-M-E, then he certainly must love him more than he loved us. Scott sometimes spent eight hours straight with him and talked to me and the children for only a few minutes. Even during meals, he listened to him instead of to what his own family had to say. As our marriage went on, Scott often spent all night with this guest. He would fall asleep on the couch while the guy was still talking, only to wake up and listen some more and then fall asleep until morning. At one point I told Scott I was sorry I ever agreed to let him in our house — that maybe it was time we kicked him out.

Sometimes I would fantasize about life after my husband died and the pleasure I'd have kicking this intruder out of my house. Some days I imagined dragging him out in the yard and setting him on fire — I hated him that much. I believed he deserved to be destroyed, because he was a destroyer. He had helped to destroy intimacy in our family and my husband's fervor for life and for God.

There were moments of relief — when we went to church together every Sunday or out to eat or away on vacations, it felt wonderful to get away from this nonstop talker of a houseguest. But then money problems and other stresses came up, and Scott spent more and more time at home — with the guest. He said, "If I go out, I'll spend money."

I also became concerned about Scott's health. Because he spent so much time with this houseguest, who just sat there, he stopped exercising. He gained weight, and this guy encouraged him to eat more by telling him about all kinds of great foods and how wonderful they taste.

Around our 25th anniversary, I told Scott that for the first 25 years of our marriage this guest had lived with us and interfered in our relationship. Then I added, "How about if we live the second 25 years of our marriage without him?" He laughed and said, "Very funny." I wasn't joking.

I often felt desperate about getting the guest out of the house or at least having him be quiet for one day, but Scott insisted he couldn't "turn him off" even for a day — that he felt depressed if he didn't spend a lot of time with him. I felt depressed that he had such a hold on Scott. But no matter how much I protested, it didn't seem to affect Scott at all. He was like the husband being confronted over an affair who then runs to spend more time with his lover.

When this guest first moved in he was civil, but over the years he became crude. He began to curse and laugh at sin and even show Scott pictures of naked women at times. He seemed to be dragging my husband down to his base way of thinking. Some days I had to leave the room because his talk was so coarse and crude. My husband said that he was not being influenced by this guest's increasing crassness. But he started talking like him and laughing when he was crude, and our daughters joined in.

Over time, the children became upset over this guest as well, even though they joined their dad in spending time with him. They expressed that they felt they had lost their father to him — that this guest was so much more important than they were. In a writing-camp interview that was published in the camp journal, my older daughter said, "I never spend any time with my family." We asked her why she would say that since we were together every evening. She said, "Yes, we are, but he's always doing the talking and telling stories, and that's not real life — that's not our real life."

One day I realized that maybe I was part of the problem since I spent time listening to this houseguest while sitting next to my husband. Sometimes I entered into the hypnotic state the guest seemed to produce in those who spent time with him. I neglected my housework and other tasks just to listen to him. Then Scott would say, "We spent the whole evening together," even though we had barely spoken a word to each other — all we did was listen to him.

Often when I did try to talk to my husband to connect with him, he glared at me and said, "Be quiet. I didn't get to hear what he just said." The worst part was that it didn't seem to matter much to Scott if we talked. Some days I'd be quiet and not approach him at all, and he wouldn't seek me out. He'd just stay glued to this guy's face as if the guest were God himself. Scott seemed to look forward to having me go out of town. I cried the day I came home after being gone for almost a week and Scott never got up from his seat across from this guy to hug me or ask how my trip was.

One day I felt instruction from the Lord: Stop spending time with the two of them. I had to face the fact that Scott was addicted to this relationship. By spending time with them, I was condoning this increasingly sick bond they had developed. But I found it hard not to get sucked back in. There were things I liked about this guy. He made me laugh sometimes when I was sad. Some of the stories he told were exciting. I remembered that back when our children were young and I was a stay-at-home mom, this guest would tell me stories about all sorts of people who had loads of problems. Every afternoon at the same time, I'd sit down to hear what he had to say about these people. Somehow it helped me forget about my own problems. But then I noticed I was beginning to withdraw from life, so I decided to tune him out during the day and not give him a chance to talk. If only Scott would do the same.

Since Scott was addicted to this relationship, I needed to stop being a part of it. I had to ask myself — what if Scott were addicted to cocaine? Would I sit with him while he used it? Would I take little hits myself? Of course not. So why was I supporting Scott in this addiction? Maybe I was addicted too. What our family needed was for Scott to tune the guest out — or kick him out.

By now I'm sure you've guessed that this "guest" is not a person at all, but the television set. Many women I've talked to have the same problem in their homes, and some husbands have wives who are TV addicts. I'm still desperate myself — Scott still spends time with this "guest." Right now I have the children to talk to at home, but soon they'll be moving out. I don't want to be a third wheel to this guy any longer.

Over the years I've learned some ways of responding to this situation. Besides prayerfully considering showing your spouse this article, here are some things you can do to deal with this monster of a houseguest — even if your spouse won't kick him out.

• Admit that you are powerless to change your spouse.
• Confront and repent of your own addiction(s).
• Learn to say "no" to joining your spouse in spending time with the guest.
• Kindly invite your spouse to do other things.
• "Get a life."
• Avoid nagging, haranguing, lecturing, sermonizing, begging.
• Avoid withdrawing love.
• Fret not over this intrusive evildoer (see Psalm 37).
• Forgive.
• Pray.