Have you ever noticed that our imaginations are incredibly creative…especially when we’re filling in information we don’t actually have?

The pastor says, “I think we should change the font in the bulletin.”

Within fifteen minutes, the church rumor mill has translated that into: “We’re getting rid of the bulletin…Traditional worship is over…Next thing you know there will be LED lights, fog machines, laser beams, and the pastor will be preaching in skinny jeans while someone plays electric guitar from the balcony.”

All because…someone suggested a different font.

Now, before we laugh too hard, we’ve all done it. We hear one sentence, fill in the blanks with our own fears, and convince ourselves that our version of the story is the truth.

As Lorelai says to Emily in Gilmore Girls:
Lorelai: “You know what they say when people assume things.”
Emily: “No, what do they say?”
Lorelai: “That…you shouldn’t.”
Emily: “Very clever.”

Emily may have had the last word, but Lorelai wasn’t wrong. And, I’m pretty sure my regular readers are fully aware of what they really say about people who assume things…

To be fair, assumptions are part of being human. They’re actually one of the brain’s shortcuts.

You assume the stove is hot because you’ve been burned before. You assume traffic will be heavy on Friday afternoon. You assume you should probably not pet the bear.

These kinds of assumptions keep us alive. Psychologists call these mental shortcuts or heuristics. Our brains constantly make quick predictions based on previous experience because it saves time and energy.

That’s a gift. Until it isn’t. Because the same brain that helps us avoid touching a hot stove also has another tendency…It often expects the worst.

Researchers have long observed what psychologists call the negativity bias. Our brains naturally pay more attention to threats, bad news, and potential problems than to positive possibilities.

Thousands of years ago, this was helpful. The person who assumed the rustling in the bushes might be a predator generally lived longer than the person who assumed it was a bunny.

But today? That same wiring can wreak havoc in relationships, workplaces, families…and yes, churches.

Instead of asking, “I wonder what they meant?” our brains often jump to, “I know exactly what they meant.” And usually, it’s the least charitable interpretation possible.

Churches are full of wonderful people. Churches are also full of humans. Which means we’re just as susceptible to assumptions as anyone else.

Attendance declines for a season. Instead of asking, “Could God be inviting us to rethink how we make disciples?” we assume, “Well, I guess we’re closing by Christmas.”

Someone proposes a new ministry. Instead of wondering, “Who might this reach?” we assume, “Nobody will come.”

A staff member makes one change. Instead of asking why…we write the rest of the story ourselves and assume they just don’t care about us.

The amazing thing is how often our assumptions escalate. One tiny fact becomes an entire fictional Netflix series.

Here’s the thing about assumptions: They usually aren’t rooted in facts. They’re rooted in fear.

Fear fills empty spaces with worst-case scenarios. Fear whispers: “They’re trying to change everything…They don’t care anymore…Why didn’t they ask me…This ministry will never work…I’m probably not welcome.”

Fear is an incredibly gifted storyteller. The only problem? It’s often a terrible fact-checker.

This may be the most dangerous part. Sometimes assumptions don’t stay inside our own heads. They become conversations.
“Well, I heard…I bet what’s happening is…I’m sure they’re planning to…”

Before long, we’re discussing stories that nobody has actually verified. We aren’t spreading facts. We’re spreading guesses. And guesses have a remarkable ability to create unnecessary conflict.

James reminds us to be “quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” It’s hard to do that when we’ve already convinced ourselves we know the ending.

Assumptions don’t just create conflict. They rob us.

We assume someone is unfriendly…when they’re actually shy.

We assume someone isn’t interested…when they’re simply waiting to be invited.

We assume a Bible study will be boring…and miss the conversation that could change our lives.

We assume the service project isn’t for us…and miss discovering a passion we never knew we had.

We assume a new person “probably wants to be left alone”…and they leave wondering why nobody spoke to them.

How many friendships have never started because someone assumed the other person wasn’t interested? How many ministries never gained momentum because people assumed they wouldn’t matter? How many possibilities has God placed before us that we’ve walked right past because we assumed the outcome before taking the first step?

One of the remarkable things about Jesus is how often He asked questions. He certainly knew people’s hearts. Yet He still invited conversation.

“What are you looking for?”
“What do you want me to do for you?”
“Who do you say that I am?”

Questions create connection. Assumptions create distance.

Questions invite understanding. Assumptions write someone else’s story for them.

So, here are some suggestions to help us in the area of assumptions…

Pause Before You Fill in the Blanks: When you notice yourself writing a story in your head, stop. Ask yourself: “Do I actually know this…or am I making it up?” Those are two very different things.

Ask Before You Assume: Most misunderstandings could disappear with one simple sentence: “Can you help me understand?” Curiosity is almost always healthier than certainty.

Choose the Most Generous Explanation: What if, instead of assuming bad motives, we assumed good intentions? Not because people are perfect. But because grace begins by giving one another the benefit of the doubt.

That one shift alone could transform marriages, friendships, church meetings, committee conversations, and social media comment sections. (Okay…maybe not social media. But it’s worth trying.)

Imagine a church where people asked questions instead of assuming motives. Where curiosity replaced suspicion. Where conversations replaced rumors. Where hope replaced fear. Where every new idea wasn’t viewed as a threat but as a chance to wonder: “Could God be doing something new among us?”

Isaiah reminds us that God says, “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?”

Sometimes we don’t perceive it because we’ve already assumed it can’t be true.

Perhaps one of the greatest spiritual disciplines we can practice isn’t having all the answers. Perhaps it’s refusing to invent answers we don’t have.

The next time your imagination starts racing because someone changed the bulletin font…Take a breath. Ask a question. Assume the best until you have a reason not to.

You just might discover that what looked like a crisis was actually an invitation. And what you assumed was the end of the story…was really just the beginning.