Winter turns to spring

By Hilary Williams

When Tori asked me to write a blog I had to laugh because I have thought about starting my own blog, but sort of kept putting it off as something I would do later. So I took this invitation knowing that it would give me the kick-start I needed! I also consider it quite an honor to be asked because I’ve only been a part of CCV for just over 3 months. So, for those of you whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting yet, let me tell you a little about myself. I am married to an incredible man named Alex, and we have a beautiful daughter, Lilliana, who will be 3 years old this month. We have just moved here to be a part of CCV all the way from Oregon, USA, (which is the West Coast right above California). It was a 5-year process, and because we serve a God who does the impossible, we are here! We have been incredibly blessed to feel at home so quickly here, and have watched as God has already done so many things in our lives in teaching us, setting us free, and providing for our needs day to day.

As I was pondering what to write, I felt like I needed to tell my story. The hard part was knowing what part. I would love to tell you my whole story, but that would take ages, and pages, and neither of us have that much time. So, I will share with you a recent journey I’ve been on with the hope that it will encourage you in your own. In my introduction I told you I was a wife and mother. However, I am also a musician, a singer, and a songwriter. You may not bat an eyelash as you read those words, thinking “oh cool, there are lots of those around here,” but for me to write those words and share that part of who I am is a big deal to me. Let me tell you why.

I’m sure you’ve probably heard the old saying about Artists and Musicians not being able to make a living. I like to think that I didn’t really believe that growing up. My parents were wonderful at encouraging me to pursue my dreams regardless of whether there was a lot of money attached to the career. Something for which I am incredibly grateful for. (Thank you Mom and Dad!) However, somehow over the years that idea that music wasn’t a “good enough” career or calling got lodged in my mind, and it’s just in these last couple of weeks, I have come to realise that I don’t have to find my place in anything else. It’s a tricky thing, the mind. Because it wasn’t like I didn’t know that my music brought me a lot of joy, or that God wanted to use it. I knew it was important, because  I spent several years using my gift by learning to lead worship, and enjoyed playing at different prayer meetings etc. etc. But I didn’t know it was enough.

If I told you the verse that was one of the keys to setting me free, you would probably laugh. It’s this one:

“His brother’s name was Jubal; he was the father of all those who play the lyre and pipe.” (Genesis 4:21)

This verse was brought to my attention when I recently had the privilege of hearing Andy Rogers teach about the history of music, and musicians in the Bible. It was through that teaching that I finally recognized that I am a musician. I don’t have to try to be anything else. I don’t need to pursue any other career, and I don’t have to keep my passion crammed to the side or labeled as a “hobby.” Music is more than my hobby. It’s my life. Now, before I go much further I’ll give you a little background on Jubal, since my epiphany might not be obvious without the context. Jubal was one of three brothers, all descendants of Cain. One of the brother’s was the father of all who lived in tents and kept livestock, and the other one was the father of the forgers of all implements of bronze and iron. (Same passage in Genesis) So basically, one brother was a farmer, the second brother was a builder/welder, and the third, Jubal, was a musician. For me, this was an eye opener. Jubal was a musician. Period. He didn’t have any other career, or any other strength (that was worth mentioning in the Bible) besides his music. Meaning music is more than just a part time pursuit to God. It’s a lifetime call.

When I was 5 years old I had my first piano lesson. My teacher’s name was Nancy Newman. She was about 19 years old at the time, and she stood me up on the piano bench and opened the top so I could see the strings and hammers, and she told me how it worked, and helped me find Middle C. I fell in love with the piano that day. She played the piano for me, and I watched in amazement as her fingers glided effortlessly over the keys creating beautiful melodies, and I knew I wanted to learn to make the piano come alive like that one day. She played beautifully, and my Mom says that she must have passed her gift on to me, because, later on, when I gained more skill my playing reminded her Nancy. Sadly, Nancy passed away suddenly not long after that, leaving her husband and two children behind, making that one short lesson even more significant to me.  

After that I had a passion for the piano. I would sit at any piano I could find (thankfully growing up in church there was always one to be found somewhere). My mother’s dream had been that all of her kids would play an instrument, so she prayed continually that we would all get the right teachers and instruments. With money tight, sometimes the wait would be long, but through the years I had several teachers who would add on to what I had learned before, so that by the time I was in my teens, I could read music well, and play in any key no matter how many flats or sharps there were. Now, before you think “Wow, that’s amazing! I hated lessons as a kid...” Let me tell you, I was a normal kid, and I didn’t like lessons most days either. I didn’t like practicing my scales. I just liked the piano, and doing whatever I wanted! Fast forward to today and the piano is still my favorite instrument, and I still like nothing better than having a beautifully tuned piano and an empty room.

Do you remember Narnia? Where it was always winter but never Christmas? I feel like I am just coming out of a Narnian winter when it comes to my music. I mentioned earlier that I had learned to lead worship. I started off playing the piano for our Women’s Ministry, and as I got better and better, opportunities began to open up for me to sing, and eventually lead. I started to be known around the area as someone who could lead worship so I would drive my little car up and down the coast of California to play at worship events in the evenings and on weekends. It was exciting and exhausting. I loved it, and I was really growing in my gift. Then I met my husband (another good story!), and in the winter of 2008 I moved to Oregon to a place where no one knew me. No one knew my gifts. No one knew my music, and at first I enjoyed the rest. It was nice to have a bit of a break. But then, as the years went by, I started to feel like all those gifts began to die in me.

“Truly truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” John 12:24 (NASB)

So there I was. No passion to play the piano. No desire to pray or read my Bible. Feeling like I couldn’t hear God the way I used to. I was just very uninspired in general, and I didn’t feel the least bit creative when it came to anything musical. I even stopped singing around the house, and putting music on. I was grieving the loss of all that was familiar, having left all my family and friends back in California. I didn’t really want to start over in relationships, because the thought of someone not knowing me and having to explain myself all the time to not be misunderstood was almost too much for me to bear. So, my life became focused on my marriage and my family instead, and my days as a worship leader felt like it had all been a dream... 

I have to take a minute here to say how thankful I am for the Holy Spirit and the way He patiently brings us through life, always with the Father’s best purpose in mind, knowing the outcome will be so much better if we go through those times of testing. God showed me during that time that the things I had been doing in music were only the “seed,” (just like in the verse above) and the real fruit would come, if I let it die. It was, as you can imagine, a painful process. It was hard to let something so precious to me die, and realise that I had any value to God without my music. But I discovered that He loved me even when I didn’t have anything to give him but my brokenness.

My “Winter of Songs” lasted 5 years. I learned so much in those 5 years. And I don’t want you to think I didn’t enjoy life during that time. I wasn’t depressed, or sad. I lived a full life with my husband, and loved being married, and loved becoming a mother. Those two things were more fulfilling than anything I had ever done in “ministry.” It was just this one part of me that didn’t seem to exist anymore. But that is not the end of my story, because spring was on its way...

‘See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone;

Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come,the cooing of doves is heard in our land.’  Song of Solomon 2:11-12

I can’t tell you how many times God used this Scripture to remind me that my life was not going to be forever stuck in winter. And even though I can’t wait for spring to come here in Northern Ireland, I feel like I am already enjoying spring on the inside! I started to feel inspired again a few months before we moved here. It was little by little, bit by bit, just like a tender green shoot that carefully pokes it’s way through the soil to find the sun. I’m excited because I don’t know what this new life will look like. It feels like starting over, and it feels familiar all at the same time. It feels like finding something I loved that was lost. I hope it’s like riding a bike, and my muscles will remember. But however long it takes to grow into this new place, I’ll take my time, stretch out in the sun, and thank God for bringing me to the spring.