We all take shortcuts to get through the day. We bundle things together, like our trips into town to run errands. That sort of effort saves us time and energy, but what about when we begin to bundle how we think about ourselves and each other? Take this photo by my good friend Pat of her cat Fred and a young possum enjoying a very interesting dinner party. Who do you presume is hosting this unusual event? The easy answer is the cat. After all, he has a name and someone who probably puts out food for him. There are two bowls, one with dry food and one with canned food. If the cat is the host, he is simply tolerating his friend the possum, allowing him to eat the dry food while he enjoys the better portion of the canned food.
On the other hand, consider if the possum is the host. He is offering the better option of the canned food to his guest while he eats the dry food. The possum also gives the cat the better place, a cool, shady spot while he eats in the sun. We view this picture based on more than an assumption – we presume to know who is the host. To presume is a farther reach than to assume. Assumptions are an extension of known facts, at least based on what we know and can reasonably expect in the future. By contrast, presumptions project information from a past experience onto the present. Presumptions take things for granted, suppose things to be true. Presumptions often start with an assumption, then apply it far beyond what reason and good sense might dictate.
In the Christian tradition, we speak of the sin of presumption, better described by a fellow blogger:
Those who sit on a premise instead of standing on a promise, slip over a precipice. Faith says God will “give us this day our daily bread”; unbelief says He won’t; doubt says He might; but presumption believes the bread must be hot and buttered — an assumption. It might be, but God’s under no obligation.
https://www.gracebiblefellowship.com/blog/2019/7/31/what-are-presumptuous-sins
Presumption is a sin against hope, dashing any chance of success before we even begin to make an effort. The sin of presumption only considers what is probable without allowing for what may be possible. When we rush to judgment or make a decision based on presumptions, we no longer make room for God’s grace. We don’t even allow room for what others might do to help us. We have no time to learn from others or look for another path toward our goals and desires.
The sin of presumption can lead us to judge others based on superficial appearances or behavior. We may avoid others based on how they look or dress. Without much effort we are prejudiced for or against another without getting to know them. Most of us have learned to look beyond skin color and sex, but what about piercings and tattoos? Hair color or style? Where they live or what they do for a living? Sometimes presumption is more of a slippery slope than a precipice.
Make time today to ask more questions than you are comfortable with. Look beyond the obvious and hold open space for God’s grace. Allow time to pray over a decision or judgment before making up your mind. Break open your heart to see more than just the facts and figures. Most of all, let the Holy Spirit soak your soul in God’s will rather than your own.
Text by Connie Chintall ©2021, All Rights Reserved
Photo of ‘Fred and the Possum’ in Burlington, NJ by Pat Dandrea©2021, used with her permission, All Rights Reserved.
It’s a cold, blustery day and I am hoping the dogwoods in my front yard will bloom before long. I love all the flowering trees in Virginia, like the one in this photo by my friend Heidi Anne. It has taken considerable contemplation to unearth the significance of such a tree to me. Memories seem to surface when we are ready to take hold of them. I contracted the old fashioned measles when I was five years old. The fever spiked at 105 degrees and my grandmother packed me in ice in her clawfoot tub. She refused to let them take me to the hospital because she was convinced I would die there. She felt the nurses were overworked and I needed more constant care. In her words, I was ‘too close to piercing the veil’. After the fever broke I spent three weeks in a darkened room with a radio turned down to a whisper. The volume knob had been removed to keep it at that level. Old fashioned measles was notorious for blinding and deafening children that survived. Any loud noise or bright light could compromise my senses for the rest of my life. I did end up with a weak left eye, the side that faced the bathroom door while I was in the tub full of ice. My hearing is actually more acute, an effect experienced by those who were meticulously cared for. I do not remember much about those three weeks, except an overwhelming sense that I was not alone. I knew my grandmother and her friends were desperately praying for me. She fed me that fact with each and every meal of jello and each time she checked to be sure I was drinking water. It was more of an abiding sense and a knowledge that a healing waiting me. I made up stories in my head and listened to all sorts of strange radio stations. Perhaps part of what gave me hope was that untamed imagination that is the prevue of every five year old. My most vivid memory is sitting on the porch for the first time after those three long weeks. Being outdoors seemed like a fairyland, and every color, every sight was over the top. It was early spring and there was a blooming tree in front of the porch, a tree a lot like the one in photo. Even my perspective mimics the photo, since I was in a reclined position. There were even flags of a sort that glorious day, at least flags in my imagination. The veil my grandmother feared I would pierce had become a direct line to the heavens. Life of any form was beyond precious, something miraculous and awe inspiring in its own right. My life since has been full of ups and downs, uncanny victories but also devastating disappointments. Yet regardless of what life brings, I begin each day with pray, with hope against hope in what may seem to others to be beyond hope. You see I have no choice but to believe in prayer, because without it you would not be reading this blog. I have been living on borrowed time for all but five years of my life, and God willing, will continue to live on borrowed time for as long as God needs me here. Make time today to thank God for your precious life, given to you breath by breath. Let the wonders of nature speak to you. Pause to contemplate the beginnings of new life on the trees, the nodules that began to grow last autumn as soon as the leaves fell. And most of all, trust in the healing that has been prepared for you, and deeply and slowly breathe it in, one breath at a time. Text by Connie Chintall ©2017, photo entitled ‘Direct Line to Heaven’ by Heidi Anne Morris ©2015-2017, used with her permission, All Rights Reserved.
Seek the Sacred Amidst the Ordinary 