Three Times by the Fire

When we make a mistake, Jesus does not turn away , he turns toward us, gives us a fresh start, and trusts us with the most important job: loving and caring for others.

Tonight's story is inspired by John 21:15-19, the Gospel reading for May 22, 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

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Good evening, little lambs. Tonight's story is called Three Times by the Fire, inspired by the Gospel of John twenty one verses fifteen through nineteen. Tonight, the Bible tells us what Jesus does when we've made a mistake. He doesn't turn away from us, he turns toward us. He gives us a brand new start and trusts us with the most important job of all, loving and caring for others. So come down to the misty lake shore where a lamb named Pebble is waking by the water, carrying something heavy in his heart that Jesus is about to make right. The morning mist was still lying low on the lake when Pebble woke up. He blinked. The others were still asleep. Clover, biscuit, old woolly, mat, pip, all tucked in the soft grass of the lake shore, their woolly sides rising and falling slowly in the early quiet. But the smell something warm and good was in the air, something smoky and sweet and golden, the smell of fish cooking over a small fire, and of bread warming on stones, and of the clean cool morning that only arrives right at the edge of dawn. Pebble got up and patted closer. His wool was the color of river stones, a soft brownish grey, speckled with white, and right now it was still damp from the night. He was a sturdy little lamb, broad shouldered and solid, but lately he had been carrying something heavy that you couldn't see, and it had made him quiet in a way that wasn't like him at all. He stopped. Jesus was kneeling beside a small charcoal fire, turning the fish gently, the way someone does when they are in no hurry at all. The flames were low and orange, the sky above the lake was pale pink and gold. A little smoke curled up and disappeared. Pebbles sat down without a word. One by one the others stirred. Biscuit lifted her head, her golden brown tuft sticking straight up even before her eyes were fully open. Clover blinked and tucked her blue scarf tighter. Old Wooly rose slowly, the way he always did, like a hill that decides to stand up. Pip came last, her enormous dark eyes wide and soft and wondering. Jesus looked up and smiled. Come, he said simply, eat. They gathered around the little fire and ate the warm bread and fish together, sitting close, listening to the lake, saying nothing much because some mornings don't need words, just warmth, just the smell of breakfast, just being near each other. When they had eaten, Jesus looked at Pebble. Pebble felt his stomach flip over, because Pebble had done something not so long ago that he couldn't stop thinking about, something that had felt terrible the moment it happened, and even more terrible every day since. He had run away from the flock when things got hard. He had pretended three times that he didn't even know the shepherd, three times. He still remembered each one. He had said I don't know him once, and then I don't know him, twice, and then I don't know him three times, and each time he had said it, the truth had pressed down harder, because of course he knew. Of course he did. He had just been afraid. Pebble had not said any of this aloud, but Jesus knew, Jesus always knew. Pebble, Jesus said, and his voice was warm and quiet, the way the fire was warm and quiet. Not scolding, not hard. Just there. Do you love me? Pebble's chest hurt. Yes, he said, and his voice came out thick. You know I do. Jesus nodded slowly. Then look after the little ones, he said. Feed my lambs. Pebble looked across the fire at Pip. Tiny Pip, with her enormous dark eyes, and her wool the color of morning fog. She was looking back at him, not afraid. He gave her a small nod. She gave him one back. Then Jesus asked again, Pebble! His voice was just as gentle as before. Do you love me? Pebble felt something strange move through him, not quite hurt, not quite relief. He understood why Jesus was asking twice. He understood it the way you understand something that costs you a little to say out loud, but it's true. Yes, he said, you know I love you. Then tend my sheep, Jesus said. Look after them, be there for them. Pebble looked at Bramble, the smallest lamb of all, who was sitting with her little legs tucked under her, leaning against old Wooly's warm silver side. Old Wooly's eyes were closed, and he was very still, and Pebble thought that the old lamb looked exactly like a warm stone, a tired lamb could rest against. He wanted to be that. He thought, maybe he could be. Jesus asked a third time, Pebble, very soft now. Do you love me? And this time something in Pebble's eyes went bright and wet because three times. Three questions, one for each time he had looked away, and Jesus wasn't saying it to hurt him. Jesus was saying it to set him free. Lord, Pebble said, and his voice was full but steady. You know everything. You know that I love you. Jesus looked at him for a long, quiet moment. The fire crackled between them. The lake lay still and silver at the edge of the shore. Feed my sheep, Jesus said. Then he smiled, and it was the warmest smile Pebble had ever seen. The kind that doesn't ask you to forget the hard thing, but tells you it's all right anyway. Tells you you're still here, still called, still known. Follow me, Jesus said. Pebble stood up. His wool was damp, and his heart was full, and his legs felt like they could carry him a long, long way. Clover watched all of this from beside the fire. She had not said a word. She had just watched, and her little sprig had been perfectly still at her ear, and now, slowly, quietly, it straightened right up to the sky. Later, when they were walking away from the lake shore together, Biskit bounced up beside Pebble with her usual cheerful thump. Did you hear what he said? she asked, her tuft springing with each step. He asked you three times. I know, said Pebble. And you said it three times, Biskit said. I love you, I love you, I love you. She tilted her head. It's like it filled in the gaps. Pebble thought about that. Yes, he said. That's exactly what it was like. Old Woolly, walking behind them in his slow and steady way, made the low sound in his throat that meant he had something to say, and was deciding how to say it. A mistake does not have the last word, he said at last. His voice like a fire you could sit beside. Love does, love always does. The morning light spread warm and long across the meadow. Pebble walked into it, and his steps were light, for the first time in a long while. Dear Jesus, you know everything about me. The good things and the hard things too. Thank you for not giving up on me. Help me to show you I love you by looking after the people around me. I want to follow you. Amen. Good night, little lamb. God loves you so much. Sweet dreams.