Paul counsels that we be not unequally yoked with unbelievers. It’s most often applied to marriage, and this post isn’t breaking the mold. I’m aware I’ve never been yoked, equally or otherwise, with a spouse, so don’t worry. I’m not about to tell you how to be equally yoked with yours. These are just thoughts from a single girl who learned what kind of man she’s looking for while sitting on a piano bench.
Marriage isn’t the only place two people ever had to work in harmony.
One of my favorite things as a pianist is accompanying other talent. Mine has never been very solo worthy. I’m all nerves just recording the hymns I share here, and that’s only me and the camera. Throw in a live audience…
I’m not well enough trained for the spotlight. I much prefer having someone between me and all that rapt attention.
Center stage or not, though, I still have to know my part, and it can be very easy or rather difficult to perform–in a good way or a bad way–depending on how well those I accompany know theirs.
Keep a marriage relationship in mind while I expound. If you’re single, maybe you’ll find something here worth holding out for. If you’re married, perhaps this is something to weigh your marriage against. A bar to raise it to, or one to thank God you’ve already reached.
Or one to completely disregard. You’re as free to leave it as you are to take it.
Some might think I ought to leave it, and maybe you, too, will think as you read, No wonder you’re not married! You’re looking for something that doesn’t exist!
I admit, sometimes I wonder if I’ve read too many romance novels. Is my head in the clouds?
But go with me into those clouds for a few minutes. It’s a nice view. And I don’t think it’s unattainable.
Being Yoked With Inconsistency
Some people I’ve accompanied have lots of heart but, usually due to a lack of training, rarely express it the same way twice. They’re never entirely sure of the timing, the words, the dynamics, so I’m never sure, no matter how many times we practice together, what they’re going to do. The experience is a bit of a nail-biter all the way through.
How long will you hold that note this time? You went three extra beats last time. Better prepare to wait–nope, you cut it short! Guess we’re skipping the rest of that measure. Now we repeat for the second verse–wait, you’re singing the third verse…okay, back to the second. And we’re holding that note again.
It’s like me trying to drive a stick shift. Inching through the intersection in jerky stops and starts feeling a gradual onset of whiplash because I can’t make the clutch and gas harmonize to save my life. We get there. Eventually. But what a ride.
I was working on a song with someone like this at the same time I was considering whether to pursue a relationship, and the parallels were revealing. It was the same choppy scenario both places. Two people who never quite knew what the other was thinking. Trying to perform the same song but at different speeds, with different interpretations, sometimes at completely different places on the page. Either jumping ahead to catch up or waiting to be caught up with.
You can manage a relationship like this when you know the performance will be over in a few weeks. Marriage has to last much, much longer than that. How can it when you never know what to expect?
A good accompanist has to be a good follower. But whoever they’re accompanying has to return the favor.
Being Yoked With A Perfect Fit
It’s extremely relaxing after all that to accompany someone who fits my capabilities like a glove. Whose musical prowess is at about the same level as mine. Who feels the louds and softs and quicks and slows the same way I do, who has a head for music to complement their heart. Such people I trust implicitly to be where they’re supposed to be when they’re supposed to be there.
They can trust me the same way.
We each know our part, and the harmony is effortless.
You’re probably thinking I’m going to tell you this is what equally yoked looks like, and it does. In part. Trusting my husband? Him trusting me? Knowing without question that he will stand in his God-given role and, as a result, being able to stand fully in mine? Yeah. I want that.
Equally yoked is a natural flow. A melodious compatibility. A commonality, perhaps not always of specific experiences, but of the faith and character they grew.
Equally yoked at its fullest, though, goes a little deeper.
It’s a harmony made all the sweeter because it wasn’t effortless. But it still happened.
Equally Yoked Is Sometimes Slightly Unequal
I’m a self-taught pianist whose understanding of music is probably 75% instinct. I’m really quite ignorant. Yet I sometimes accompany people who have a college degree in the subject. Seems hopelessly lopsided, I know, but those are some of my most fulfilling experiences at the piano. Because I grow.
Comfortable as it is to accompany people on my level, it means that my level is where I stay. It’s not a bad level. I can do a lot there.
But I can’t do much anywhere else.
Now and then, you need a challenge to rise higher.
I can and have sailed as smoothly with a Bachelor of Arts as I have with a perfectly fitted glove. I have to work harder at it. Actually practice. Drill. Sometimes Google. But in the end, I’m a better player for it.
There’s a catch, though. An imperative balance that must be maintained in order for this lopsided yoke to work while I’m growing to make it a little less lopsided.
The Bachelor of Arts has to meet me somewhere in the middle.
The Difference Between a Challenge and a Bad Idea
Challenge is good. Necessary. But it has to be actionable.
I was once asked by a gifted musician to accompany a performance and subsequently given a piece of music so far beyond my abilities, there was no hope in this world or the world to come of my ever learning it. Not in the time allotted.
That’s a truly hopelessly lopsided yoke that will only leave both parties utterly frustrated.
I didn’t jump into that one.
It’s one thing to be yoked with someone who puts your skills to the test. It’s another to work with someone who doesn’t know your limitations.
That’s the sweet spot of equally yoked. Not to enable each other’s limitations by never challenging them, but to challenge them in realistic increments. To raise each other to your full potential without trampling each other.
I want that.
Equally Yoked Does Not Mean Perfect
Just in case you think I’m holding out for perfect, let me assure you I’ve also learned while sitting on a piano bench that no matter how much you practice, sometimes you still miss a step.
Here’s a story about an accompanist (me) who ruined–well, at least marred–a beautiful solo.
I was a junior in high school accompanying a senior with an incredible voice in a state solo and ensemble competition. One of her last hurrahs before graduation. The song had been a healthy challenge for me. Slightly more technical than I was used to, but I’d learned it. We’d worked. We’d practiced.
We made a pretty good team.
Her name was called. She introduced herself and her song to the judges. I played the introduction, and we were off. Flowing splendidly until I turned the page a little too vigorously and my binder slipped off its narrow ledge and crashed onto the keys. Approximately twenty-six discordant notes pounded simultaneously mid-aria.
She had the presence of mind to keep singing. I found the presence of mind to right my music and catch up. All told, it was about a four-second disruption, and we arrived at the end in one piece. But how mortifying!
Despite my fumble, though, she still earned a well-deserved superior rating, and the audience’s prevailing comment to me was, “You recovered fast.”
Mistakes happen. We fall on our faces in this life. Repeatedly. The important thing is that we recognize it and get back on track.
When the music comes crashing down, I hope I’m married to a man who will still be there when I come back to the song.
I want to be the wife who’s still there when he does.
Equally Yoked Isn’t a Fairy Tale
So. Am I a hopeless romantic or what?
I might be. Just a little.
But I don’t think my sights are so far removed from what God intended a marriage to be.
Two people who trust each other. Who have enough in common to harmonize, and enough diversity to create new harmonies. Who will forgive mistakes and acknowledge when they’ve made their own.
Two people who are better together.
If that’s an impossible dream, it shouldn’t be.
Thanks for reading! I hope it’s been worth your time. If it has, please leave a comment and share.
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