Everyone in our neighborhood planted a garden. No one tried to compete with anyone else for the prettiest garden, it was just that growing your own vegetables helped a lot with the grocery bill and no one who planted a garden in our neighborhood was flush with money. Besides, homegrown just tasted better.

One of the things that Daddy was always proud of was the corn he planted. He had a cultivator he pushed by hand that furrowed out the rows leaving room to hoe between the plants to keep out the weeds. He and Mother worked every evening it seemed to keep that corn growing and the weeds out. The stalks were beautiful; dark green and over twice as tall as I was at seven years old.

 

One of my favorite things to do on a summer day was play between the rows of corn. The tops of the stalks shaded the narrow rows and if there was a breeze, the leafy part blew back and forth. I thought hiding in those corn stalks was so neat. I could get back in them and just knew that no one could see me or would know where I was. I liked to pretend I was being chased by someone and I would race between the stalks, holding my breath until the imaginary person passed. The only problem with playing in the corn stalks was what they did to my delicate skin. My little sleeveless pinafore didn't cover my arms or legs and after only a few minutes of running through the stalks, I would begin to sting and itch terribly.

Mother always knew what the outcome would be. I'd come running in the house, screaming and jumping up and down flailing my arms about with tears running down my cheeks.

"You've been playing in those corn rows again, haven't you?" She would say as she washed my arms and legs with soap and water. "I don't know why you insist on playing in there when you know how badly you will itch when you get out."

When Mother has sufficiently washed me enough that I could stand still and not cry,

"But, Mother, it's just so much fun.", I'd say, "I can hide from those people and they just pass right by and never see me."

You know sin is a lot like that. We can hide and play in the corn rows of sin because it's fun. But, there will be painful, stinging consequences of sin to pay. Jesus died on the cross to take away the consequences of our sin. The blood he spilt for us there will wash away those consequences much like my Mother washed my arms and legs to take away the sting of my playful fun.

"But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin." 1 John 1:7 NIV