The Lamb Jesus Chose

Jesus chose you on purpose, loves you with a love that never runs out, and invites you to pass that love to everyone around you.

Tonight's story is inspired by John 15:9-17, the Gospel reading for May 14, 2026.

About Baa Baa Bible: Bible-inspired bedtime stories for children ages 3-10. In every story, Jesus is the gentle Good Shepherd, teaching us the lessons of today's Bible reading. All the other characters are lambs and sheep, a warm reminder that we are all part of his flock. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Good evening, little lambs. Tonight's story is called The Lamb Jesus Chose, inspired by the Gospel of John fifteen, verses nine through seventeen. Tonight, the Bible tells us something almost too wonderful to believe that Jesus chose each one of us on purpose, not because we are the fastest or the finest, but simply because He loves us. And His love is like a river that never runs dry, flowing from God straight into our hearts, so we can pass it along to others. So let me take you to Shepherd's Hill, where a small lamb named Clover is about to learn that very thing. On a night she felt quite forgotten. The stars were just beginning to wake up over Shepherd's Hill. One by one the little lambs of the meadow were tucking themselves in for the night, snuggling into soft tufts of sweet smelling grass, pulling woolly ears down over sleepy eyes, whispering the last giggles of the day to each other. But one small lamb sat all by herself at the edge of the hill. Her name was Clover. She had round, curious eyes, and a tiny sprig of green clover she always tucked behind her left ear. Tonight, though, the sprig was drooping, and so was she. Clover, love, rumbled a warm, slow voice behind her. It was old Woolly, the big, silver fleeced elder of the meadow, whose wool was soft as cloud, and whose voice felt like sitting next to a fire. He lowered himself slowly onto the grass beside her with a gentle oof. What's on your mind, little one? Clover pulled the clover sprig from her ear and twirled it between her hooves. Today, she said quietly, when everyone was picking teams for meadow games, nobody picked me. Biscuit got picked first, she always does. Clover smiled a tiny bit because she loved Biscuit, her bouncy, golden wooled best friend, even when it was hard to. Fig got picked, little Bramble got picked, but not me. She stared at the darkening valley below. I was just left. Old Woolly didn't rush to say anything. He just sat close and let the sound of crickets and soft wind fill the space between them. Then, from somewhere along the hill path came the sound of footsteps in the grass, unhurried, easy, like someone who had all the time in the whole world. Clover looked up. A man was walking along the path in the last glow of evening. He had warm, steady eyes, the kindest she had ever seen, like they held something good and secret inside them. And when he smiled at her, it felt like the sun had come back out, even though it was almost night. He sat down in the grass just in front of her, the way a friend does. Not too close, not too far. Hello, Clover, he said. She blinked. You know my name? I've always known your name, he said. I'm Jesus. Clover had heard that name before. Biscuit talked about him all the time, bouncing on her hooves with excitement. Old Wooly spoke about him quietly, the way you speak about someone you love very much. But Clover had never quite imagined that Jesus would come and sit in the grass with her. Not tonight, not here. I heard what happened today, Jesus said gently. Clover looked down. Nobody chose me? No, said Jesus, but I did. The night went very still. Before the meadow games, he said, before this morning, before you were even born, I chose you, Clover. Not because you are the fastest lamb or the fluffiest or the loudest, just because you are you, and you are mine. Something warm moved through Clover's wool, from her small round hooves all the way up to the tips of her ears. But why? she whispered. Jesus leaned forward, his eyes bright with something that looked a lot like joy. Can I tell you the most wonderful secret? he said. Clover nodded, because she very much could. My Father in heaven loves me, Jesus began, with a love so big and warm and bright that it could fill the whole sky and more. And all of that love, every drop of it, he pours it right into me. He opened his hands in front of him, like he was holding something invisible but very real. And I take every drop of it, and I pour it right into you. Clover stared at his open hands. God's love never runs out, Jesus said. It is like a river that has no beginning and no end. It flows from my Father to me, and from me to you, and from you to every lamb you meet. He smiled. That is the secret, Clover. That is why I chose you. Not to keep the love, to pass it on. Clover turned this over in her mind. A chain of love, a river flowing from heaven, down the hillside, right to a small lamb who hadn't been picked for teams. What if I forget? she said. What if tomorrow I feel too sad or too small to pass any love along? Then you come back to me, Jesus said, simply and completely. Stay close, that's all I ask. When you stay close, when you stay in my love, like staying near a warm fire, the love keeps flowing, and something else grows too. What? Joy, said Jesus. Not the kind you get when you win. The deep, underneath kind, the kind that is still there when the game is over, when it's raining, when nobody picked you. He put a hand gently to his chest, the kind that makes you want to wake up tomorrow and do something good. Clover thought about tomorrow. She thought about Biskit, who would almost certainly bounce into her at breakfast and spill both their acorn cups. She smiled. And then she thought about Matt. Matt was a quiet, dark fleeced young lamb who had arrived on the hill not so long ago. He didn't say much. He always seemed to be standing a little bit outside of things, watching the games, never quite joining in. Nobody seemed to notice Matt very much. Nobody had really chosen him either. Maybe I could sit with Matt tomorrow, Clover thought. Maybe I could pick him first for once. Jesus seemed to see the thought move across her face, because his whole expression lit up. Now that, he said quietly, is the fruit that lasts. Old Wooly made a small, satisfied sound beside her, not quite a snore, but nearly. I have one thing to ask you, Clover, said Jesus. Just one thing, and it is not hard. Are you ready? She lifted her chin. Yes. Love each other, he said. His voice was quiet and warm and absolutely certain. Not because you have to, because love is the greatest adventure there is. Love each other the way I love you. He reached out and gently tucked the little green clover sprig back behind her ear. Now sleep, he said. You are chosen, you are loved, and tomorrow you have love to give. He stood and walked on along the hill path, and the last light of the evening seemed to walk with him. Overhead the stars of Shepherd's Hill grew wide and bright and very close. Old Woolly was already snoring, his great silver sides rising and falling slowly. Somewhere down in the meadow, Biscuit was dreaming. Clover could tell, because Biscuit's golden wool was twitching in little happy shutters, and Clover curled herself up small and warm on the hillside, her sprig of green clover back behind her ear, her heart so full it felt like it might glow right through her wool. She had been chosen. She had always been chosen. She closed her eyes, and the stars kept watch, and she slept. Dear Jesus, thank you for choosing me, not because I'm the best or the biggest, but just because you love me. Fill me up with your love tonight and help me pass it on tomorrow. Amen. Good night, little lamb. God loves you so much. Sweet dreams.