I started out life on a farm just east of a small rural village in northwest Iowa.  There’s nothing left there now but a lot of memories.  

I lived there until I was only six or seven, but I have as many memories of that short period of time as I have of anywhere else I’ve lived.  Most of those memories are good memories.  I think that’s why I love the farm so much, because of those early childhood days spent on the farm.  

Some of those early memories had to do with learning responsibility.  As a young boy those first responsibilities were pretty simple, but they were stepping stones to bigger things, and often times a spiritual lesson all rolled into one.

Gathering eggs was a menial task, but to me it was always an exciting challenge as well as a treasure hunt.   It was a challenge to get an egg out from under a grouchy old hen without getting pecked, and a treasure hunt to find the eggs, wherever they had been deposited.

At milking time I would walk out to the pasture to bring the cows in. As small as I was, those cows looked to be about ten feet tall.  They would pause from their grazing to stare at me a moment, and then without fail they would head for the barn at a speed that even my short legs could easily keep up.

Opening and closing the hog house door, as the rest of the family carried squealing pigs to another area for weaning, was easily the scariest job.  It was hard to stay at my post with those excited sows in their stalls carrying on so.  Fortunately that job came only a couple of times a year.

The most boring responsibility was taking out the garbage, but it proved to be the most valuable in teaching a spiritual lesson.  We burned what we could of the garbage.  What was left over was to be placed in an old hog feeder down by the barn.  It was my job to see that the non-burnables made it to the old hog feeder.

On the way to the “dumpster” there was a good sized bush growing on the hill just above the driveway.  On days when I had more important things to do, I would just deposit the non-burnables in the middle of that bush.  This worked out just fine for me as the bush had lots of leaves for cover, so no one was the wiser.

There came a day however, that I happened by that bush after the leaves had fallen off.  I was shocked.  There was the result of my disobedience, open and exposed to whoever happened by.  I don’t remember if mom or dad ever saw it, I just remember the shock and the guilt I felt to see it uncovered and no longer hidden.

Covering sin never works.  If the leaves don’t fall, God will reveal it sooner or later.  He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy (Proverbs 28:13).