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Good evening, little lambs. Tonight's story is called The Juice Bags on the Peg, inspired by the gospel of Luke five thirty three thirty nine. Tonight, Jesus teaches us that when He is with us it is time to be glad. He does not want us to skip the good drink and look sad while He sits right there. What He gives needs a bag that can stretch, not a stiff old way that will not grow. In the Gospel of Luke chapter five, verses thirty three through thirty nine, that is what he shows. And so tonight we're on Shepherd's Hill, where leftover berries sit in a wooden bowl, and two juice bags hang on a barn peg. The evening smelled like crushed berries and warm dust. Purple juice dripped down the side of the bowl. Tiny bubbles popped on top, biscuits golden tuft stuck straight up, still stained from last night, when Jesus had sent them to the far thicket by the creek, and their empty pails had come back too full. She mashed the leftover berries with a wooden pestle. The juice fizzed against the wood. Clover stood close. Her cream wool was clean, her blue scarf was neat. The green sprig behind her left ear stood up. Little Wren climbed the rim of the bowl on her back hooves. She was tiny with curly ears. She was old Wooly's granddaughter. It smells so good, Wren said. Can we drink it now? Juniper's white wool was smooth. Her little basket hung empty over one foreleg. She took the old juice bag down from the barn peg. The leather was stiff and shiny from many summers. It did not bend. It sat in her hooves like a dry stick. We always use this one, Juniper said. The old bag is better, and we should not drink juice at supper. We save juice for special mornings. That is the proper way. We sit quiet and wait. Biscuits tuft drooped. But I am thirsty now. Old Wooly sat in the grass. His silver grey fleece shone. He did not grab the bag. His voice felt like sitting next to a fire. The juice will not wait forever, he said. Jesus came up the path. He looked at each of them as if that lamb were the only lamb in the meadow. He sat down by the bowl. The bubbles still popped. Juniper held the stiff bag close to her chest. We wait, she said. We do not eat and drink just because we want to. Jesus did not look angry. I am here with you, he said. If your friend is sitting at the table with you, you do not skip the drink and look sad. You are glad. I am here. Be glad. Juniper's ears tipped. She still loved the old bag. She poured. The juice ran in. The stiff leather did not stretch. A seam split with a small, dry sound. Purple juice ran into the grass. The bag lay flat and ruined. The bowl was almost empty. Wren's eyes got wet. It's gone. Clover's sprig tipped. Jesus lifted the second bag from the peg. The leather was new and soft. It folded like a cloth. He poured what was left. The bag puffed, it stretched. Nothing spilled. Then he said the plainest thing of the whole night. New juice needs a bag that can stretch, he said. When I am with you, come glad and drink. Do not skip it and say the old way is better. Juniper looked at the wet grass. I said the old was better, I did not even taste. I know, Jesus said, there will be days you miss me. Then you can wait with love. But tonight I am here. Taste. He poured a little into Wren's small cup, then junipers, then biscuits, then clovers, then old woollies. The juice was cool and sweet, and a little fizzy. Juniper drank, her ears lifted. She sat down in the dust with the others, not off to the side, not waiting. They stayed under the oak until the first star came out. The new bag hung on the peg, still soft. Nobody's cup was empty, and so tonight we learned that when Jesus is with us, it is time to be glad. We do not skip the good gift and look sad. What he gives needs a way that can stretch, not a stiff old way that spills it. Can you come sit with him tonight, glad, even if your old way feels safer? Let's close our eyes now, safe on the green hill, held by the shepherd who sits with us and pours the drink that does not spill. Jesus, you are here with me. Help me be glad and stretch for what you give. Amen. Good night, little lamb. God loves you so much. Sweet dreams, and