Swing your knees please

On Monday the school photographer was at my school. I dutifully went to have my picture taken to grace the information board. In the room was a long PE bench, the one with the two large lumps at each end  - you remember. I was invited to sit on the very long low bench. I did so. Then the photographer asked me to 'swing my knees over.'  Puzzled as to why I needed to balance precariously on the low thin bench looking like a posh lady at a picnic, I swung both my feet up onto the bench and pointed my knees at the camera.
The photographer looked a little embarrassed. "No, I mean swing your knees over."  I apologised and certain I now knew what he meant, I swung my knees to the right and sat astride the bench like an excellent equestrian. The photographer looked flustered. Putting his own knees tightly together, he turned them slightly to the left to illustrate what he wanted me to do. I obliged, feeling ridiculous and a tad irritated. "Twist your knees slightly to the left" is not the same as "swing your knees over" - how was I supposed to know what he meant? You may not know what I look like, but if you ever come to the school where I teach and look at the information board, I am the one whose face is three shades redder than anyone else's. My knees do not feature anywhere on the photograph.
In Hebrews chapter 12 in the Bible, in the old fashioned version it says this, "Therefore, lift up the hands which hang down and the feeble knees." 'Lift up your feeble knees,' came to mind when I realised I had not swung my knees as the photographer required. God does not want you to be uncomfortable about the state of your knees. He does not want you to be embarrassed that they are weak, feeble and out of position. The writer goes on to say, "Mark out a straight path for your feet so that those who are weak and lame will not fall but become strong." God's instructions are always clear and always helpful, he wants us strong and secure, he wants our faces shining with the glory of His goodness not the shame of our stupidity.

Spillage

Why is it that when someone says, "Don't spill that all over the white cloth," you feel an inordinate obligation to spill that all  over the white cloth? "That" on this occasion was a mug of tomato soup. The cloth was a pristine white linen tablecloth, freshly laundered by a professional cleaning company at considerable cost. I was nowhere near it when I spilled it. I was simply moving the cloth down a few inches to cover another table which had been added to accommodate a couple more people. Theoretically the tables are all the same size and height. Realistically, they aren't. The mug hit the undercover raised table edge with enough force to tip almost the entire contents onto the white cloth in a large sunset like pattern with sunshine rays running down the overhanging linen. My face was pretty much the same colour as the spillage. 
As I watched the red stain seep into the fabric it actually reminded me of Easter. The red stain on the white cloth that day was no accident, it was the culmination of centuries of planning. The cloth wasn't used for long, barely three days. Jesus folded it carefully and left it in the empty tomb when he rose from the dead. Because of what Jesus accomplished over those three days, my embarrassment over my many mistakes and my guilt over my many misdemeanors have been obliterated. The Bible tells me that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin. In the book of Revelation John writes about people who are wearing freshly washed white robes and being sheltered by the presence of God. My shame is taken away through Christ's death and resurrection. Jesus used wine to remind his friends he would give his life for them, I used tomato soup. I don't think Jesus minds what you use to remind you of his love for you this Easter. He just wants you to know you can be utterly forgiven and totally clean.