To Be As One

I hired someone interesting today at work. She's the sister of one of our former employees, and she came to tonight's training with her boyfriend. No big deal there, it happens all the time. She made it through the training all right, albeit with a fair amount of help from him. The skill test at the end was another matter; she really struggled with it. And this was after I had to tell the two of them specifically that she had to do the test on her own.

She did well enough to get the job, at least on a provisional basis. This means she'll get two weeks to see how she's doing. If she's still struggling after that, we'll let her go. Anyway, she made it, and I gave her the new hire paperwork to fill out. And it was interesting to watch. I saw her boyfriend fill out his own paperwork, then literally walk her through everything as she (they) filled out hers.

It made me concerned. Not about how she'd do on the job; pretty much anyone with an I.Q. higher than room temperature can do the job. I was concerned about her future. I hoped that this boyfriend of hers would treat her right. I hoped she'd be okay if he were ever not there for her.

I was scared at the thought of being so dependent on someone.

And as I thought a little more about it, I began to see shades of that in my first marriage. Don't get me wrong; my ex was not a domineering, controlling shrew, and I was not a sycophantic pushover. But there were times—and more than a few, if I'm to be completely honest—when I let something I considered right or important go because she had a different opinion.

I know that marriage is built on compromise as well as trust and mutual respect. And I tried to be accommodating to her, especially when things got difficult. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I wonder now if I was too accommodating. While the stated reason for the divorce was financial difficulties, she told me once along the way that she felt like she was making all the decisions and that all the responsibility was on her shoulders. After a while, she just decided she couldn't carry it any more.

By the same token, though, there were many times when I made it a point to try to take the lead. And sometimes it worked. But too often, I found that my decisions didn't make her happy. What I'd decided hadn't been what she wanted. So that didn't help.

So now, as I look forward to a new marriage and a new companion, I wonder what I've learned. There must be balance; this I know. But how to find it? Aye, there's the rub. Paul talked about being unequally yoked (2 Corinthians 6:14). We have the same core beliefs, and that's good. We wouldn't be getting married otherwise. But what about the day-to-day things? How will we know—how will I know—how much is enough, or too much, or too little? To paraphrase Robert Fulghum, where is the line between 'turn the other cheek' and 'enough is enough already'?

I don't want to walk ahead or behind on this journey, but beside. I want this to be a true partnership, with the two of us as equal partners in everything and in every way. Maybe I went into things the last time not fully knowing what that meant. Do I know any better now? How do I keep from making the same mistakes I made the last time? And how do I keep from making worse mistakes this time?

Am I worrying about this too much?