DirtyWound

My three younger brothers and I had the great fortune of being raised in a farming community of the Deep South. We had lots of cousins and neighbors living within a few miles of us. This meant that we always had a place to play and someone with whom to play. On those rare occasions in the summer when we didn't have to work in the fields or do chores, we took off to find some boys who had also escaped.
We climbed trees, played "hide" in the woods, built tree houses, dug caves, and swam in the creek. There was always something exciting to do. We did have to avoid one obstacle. If we ventured too close to home, it seemed that Momma always had a chore for us to do. We learned very quickly not to go near home until dark.
One day as we were playing in the woods, I scraped my leg against a tree. It happened as I made a desperate plunge to avoid being tagged. The scrape was on the outside of my right leg and above my ankle. A layer of skin was peeled off and I suddenly had a stinging, bleeding wound.
As we examined the wound there was one thing about which we were all concerned. Was it bad enough that we would have to go home and have it bandaged? If I went home with a bleeding wound, all play would be over for the day.
The wound stung and hurt but I was determined to be a man and not make a big deal about that. The blood was seeping rather than spurting so we knew the bleeding was not serious. Then one of my cousins had a suggestion. He brushed away some pine straw and dug up a handful of sand. He told me if I sprinkled that sand on the wound, it would stop the bleeding. He was right. The bleeding stopped after the sand caked on the wound. The stinging was not as bad either. Soon, I was able to resume play.
By the time we got home that night, the wound was a dirty, stinging, bleeding mess. It is no exaggeration to say that my Momma was not pleased.
She was a little less than gentle as she washed the dirt out of the wound and put a disinfectant on it. She explained to me that I was never to do such a foolish thing again. Her disappointment with my behavior hurt more than the stinging of the wound. She explained to me that a wound had to be cleaned and kept clean. This had to be done to avoid infection and to ensure that the wound would properly heal.
Sin is much like a wound to our inner being. We are to treat others, as we would have them treat us. If we mistreat others, we sin against our Father. Whenever we do wrong to others, sin, we are actually hurting ourselves. The wound is there for us to see if we stop to examine it.
We are always tempted to cover up our "little" sins. We often try to cover them with a falsehood or maybe a little deceit. Such covers allow us to keep playing the game a little longer but make the ultimate cleansing that much more painful. 
Deep in our inner being, we know that a hidden sin will only fester and cause more trouble later on. We know that we should not cover our sin but cleanse it.
Our Lord Jesus has provided a way for us to cleanse our sins and keep our inner beings healthy. In order to do that we have to stop playing games and acknowledge to the wronged person and to Him, our sin. He is faithful and just to heal us of our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness if we do. That's the way it should be done.
Are you playing with a dirty wound?