At my house we’re still working with an ancient fuse box and the glass screw-in fuses. Since we had circuit-breakers at our last house, moving to the cottage brought an electrical learning curve. At first I couldn’t tell if a fuse was blown or good, and it was a guessing game trying to link their power with the area of the house they controlled. But gradually our fuse box and I became friends… until last summer.

My electric water heater would work fine for a couple of weeks, then go cold. I’d head to the basement, replace a couple of fuses, and it would work again, until a few weeks later. One day while at the hardware store buying fuses, I presented the dilemma to the clerk. “Are you using the right number?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “two of them.”

“No, I mean the number on the fuse. They have different strengths. Check your fuse box. Sometimes it says.”

And sure enough, I’d been using 20’s in two holes needing 30’s, shorting on power to the water heater. After I corrected my error, all was well. If only life’s other shortages were as easy to repair: shortages of sleep, money, patience, energy, wisdom, all kinds of things.

Each of us has felt pinched in specific ways from time to time. For example, every new parent knows about sleep shortages and later learns about patience shortages when their children test them.

Nate and I had financial shortages for many years. Families in other countries find themselves short of food or medicine. People in jobs that require creativity find themselves short of ideas, and those needing physical strength in their work become short of energy.

But the worst deficiency is when we feel shorted by God, that he hasn’t come through like he said he would. We claim his promise to provide for our needs and wonder why we’re short on cash. We put him first, believing he’ll direct us, then wonder why we’re unemployed.

I’ve found it helpful not to look at the current-day shortage but rather at a past provision. It’s the manna principle. God told the hungry Israelites to collect only enough for “today”. If they picked up extra (except before the Sabbath), it rotted.

That’s often how we define our shortages. We say, “I made it through today but know I won’t have enough for tomorrow.”

If we apply the manna principle, we’ll focus on the first half of that sentence rather than the last. Manna always came just before it was needed. Anxiety over “tomorrow’s” food was wasted worry.

Today Skylar asked me for some juice. I knew she’d only want half so filled her cup that much. As I handed it to her, she threw herself on the floor and cried, “No! All the way full!”

I filled it to the top, thinking she must be thirsty, and handed it to her. She said, “Thank you,” and skipped off to play. Later I found her cup. She’d drunk only half.

“The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing.” (Ecclesiastes 1:8b)