Hope On The Edge

Frank Sinatra used to sing,

> “Just what makes that little old ant think he’ll move that rubber tree plant?”

Anyone knows an ant can’t…

But he’s got high hopes.

That silly song always makes me smile. It’s about an ant with more courage than common sense — a creature who refuses to quit even when the odds are impossible.

You and I have met people like that. They’re the ones who plant tomatoes in a drought, who keep buying birthday cards for prodigal kids, who believe things can still turn around when everyone else says it’s over.

Hope has always had bad timing.

In fact, Hope called me just last week — right when the car battery died.

I told her, “Hope, this is not a good time.”

She said, “Oh, but that’s the only time I ever show up.”

That’s the thing about hope. She never waits for blue skies; she shows up in the storm with jumper cables.

And maybe that’s why Jesus talked so much about looking up instead of looking around — because when you’re living on the edge, you don’t need more data; you need direction.

---

The Edge We Feel

We’re living in a world that feels paper-thin.

Every headline hums with tension — nations on alert, markets quivering, storms naming themselves faster than meteorologists can count.

People talk about mental health the way past generations talked about the weather, because the forecast changes every hour.

We live with phones that promise connection but deliver comparison.

We scroll through smiling faces while quietly wondering if anyone’s truly okay.

And somewhere in that endless feed of information, the soul whispers, “Is there still hope?”

That’s the edge.

Not just war or famine or disease — the edge is the feeling that tomorrow might come apart before we get there.

And into that very space, Jesus speaks.

Not from a mountain of denial, but from the Mount of Olives — looking straight at a trembling world.

---

Jesus on the Edge

His disciples pointed to the shining stones of the Temple and said, “Isn’t this glorious?”

Jesus looked past the marble and saw centuries. He said, “Not one stone will be left upon another.”

They were stunned. How could something so solid crumble?

It’s the same question we ask today: How could the world we know fall apart?

And Jesus answered — not with panic, but with prophecy.

He listed wars, rumors, earthquakes, and fear. Then He said something that still cuts through the static:

> “When these things begin to come to pass, look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh.” (Luke 21:28 KJV)

He didn’t say when these things end.

He said when they begin.

Hope shows up early.

---

Proof That God Keeps His Word

History has already carried many of those signs.

The earthquake that shook Lisbon in 1755, the darkened skies over New England in 1780, the falling stars in 1833 — each a thunderclap saying, “You can trust what He said.”

They aren’t museum curiosities; they’re mile-markers proving that the Bible keeps its promises down to the detail.

And if God kept those, He will keep the biggest one of all: “I will come again.”

---

Living on the Edge — Now

Yet 2025 feels like its own prophecy.

Viruses jump continents faster than airplanes.

Artificial intelligence writes love songs and lies with equal fluency.

Nations argue about truth itself.

Children learn code before they learn kindness.

We can talk to the world but can’t listen to our neighbor.

You can almost hear the creak of creation groaning.

But Jesus said this would happen — that hearts would fail for fear of what’s coming on the earth.

He wasn’t scaring us; He was preparing us.

Every fulfilled sign isn’t a reason to panic; it’s a reason to trust.

Every shaking is Heaven saying, “Hold on — I told you this was coming.”

Hope doesn’t deny the edge; she lives on it, sings on it, prays on it.

That’s why Paul could write from a prison cell, “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed.”

He had high hopes — rubber-tree-plant hopes — because his faith was bigger than his fear.

Maybe tonight you feel close to the edge — financially, emotionally, spiritually.

Hope called you again, and you almost didn’t answer.

But remember: she only shows up when things look impossible.

Jesus hasn’t forgotten the world, and He hasn’t forgotten you.

The same Lord who traced the timeline of history also traces the tears on your face.

He said, “When these things begin to come to pass…” — not to frighten you but to free you from despair.

If the edge is real, so is the hope waiting beyond it.

---

The Hope We Hold