Marilyn Baker: ‘I never thought God could use my voice’

I was an only child and born prematurely in Birmingham, so was put in an incubator. At the time, they didn’t realise that having too much oxygen could damage eyes. A little while after I went home, my Mum noticed a squint, and when she went to the hospital they told her: “Your daughter is going to lose her sight.” 

At the age of five I went to a boarding school for the blind. Mum kept saying: “You’ll love it,” but I didn’t. It was a very strict school; I think some of the things that happened might be counted as abuse now. 

Finding faith

At the age of ten I was learning the oboe. I was a bit of a child prodigy, because I was playing concertos by the time I was eleven. My teacher’s parents were Christian Scientists, and something about their lives drew me to feeling there was something more to life than just things.  

I couldn’t get any details about Christian Science in braille, so when I was about 13 or 14, I joined a Christian club. By then I had moved to the only grammar school for blind children in Chorleywood, Hertfordshire. I read a book called The Transforming Friendship by Leslie Weatherhead (by Abingdon Press), and it set a fire in my heart for Jesus. Then Billy Graham came to Britain. Our school allowed us to go to one of the meetings connected to his crusade, where the preacher seemed to answer all my questions. When they asked: “Do you want to be saved?” I put my hand up. I was about 14 or 15 and suddenly I knew that I wasn’t going to be alone anymore in life. 

Suddenly I knew that I wasn’t going to be alone anymore in life

The real turning point for me was when I left boarding school and went to the Royal College of Music at 19. I was the only blind student at the time. I didn’t know anybody but had been put in touch with the Christian Union.

I remember sitting in the canteen feeling completely alone, not being able to remember my way back to where I was living. I prayed: “If you really are real God, this is the moment I need you the most. I have no idea how to get home. Please help!” Just at that point, the leader of the Christian Union came over to me and introduced himself. I told him my predicament, and he walked home with me. I realised then it was an amazing answer to prayer.

A growing desire for music

It was at college that I started to really get into Christian music. We used to go to youth groups to sing but picked from the oratorios. I remember thinking: “Gosh, this might be a bit boring; we need something else.” I wrote a song called ‘He’s my saviour, my friend and my Lord’ and they loved it. We used to do it every time we went out, but I never thought of writing any more. 

There was a girl at the Royal College of Music who had been dramatically converted. She wrote songs that so impressed me. I asked her: “How do you write songs like that? They’re so moving, but they’re modern.” She replied: “I just gave God my musical gift and asked him to anoint me.”

I remember going back to my room and saying: “Lord, I’m going to give you all my musical gifts if you can use me.” 

After graduation I moved to Watford, and became a peripatetic music teacher of the oboe and piano. One day the people in our Baptist church asked me and Carol (my flatmate) to play in the church. It went well, so they said: “We want you to make a tape.” We recorded our first one, and then did another. 

Stepping out solo

Then Carol went to work for the Torch Trust, and I was devastated. People said: “You can’t stop singing now, Marilyn; you’ve got to do it yourself.” I never thought God could use my voice. I thought I’d be an oboist for the Lord. 

I’d heard the Lord say to me one day in the early 70s: “You’re going to make a record” and remember saying: “If I am Lord, you’ve got to make it, because I have no idea how.” In the end, I was introduced to a record company, and recorded my first album, He Gives Joy, in 1979. 

In 1981 I brought out another album, Whispers of God, but, after that, I began to feel a conflict. I was teaching in schools, and didn’t know how I could fit it all in. I went to a church service the next week, and the speaker said: “I worked at boarding schools as a teacher and thought it was part of my life forever, then the Lord called me out.” 

As he said that, I knew I was supposed to leave teaching, but my father was against it. I then read Psalm 45:10-11: “Forget your father’s house, for I the LORD desire your beauty” [my paraphrase]. I knew God was telling me to leave my job, so I gave my notice, but wondered: “Where am I going to get any money from?” 

Two days later, the record manager said: “You’ve been invited to go to New Zealand!” Once there, we were invited to the home of a couple who suddenly said: “The Lord has told us to write you a cheque.” 

Finding my ministry partner

After many years, I felt the burden of the ministry was too much. I had assistants travelling with me, who would help me get up, pack things for me and help me learn my way around. I said: “I can’t carry on. I need a real partner in the ministry.” I said to God: “I thought you provide all our needs; where is this person who is meant to help me?”

My friend Penny, who was blind too, visited the Christian Union at the blind school I had gone to, and met a lady called Tracy Williamson. Tracy was deaf and had just been told she was too deaf to work with blind children. She was heartbroken, so Penny said: “Why don’t you come over and have a meal with Marilyn and me?” We got on so well that I asked: “Could you come with me for one or two of the concerts and help me?” 

The first concert we went to, my back was killing me. I had a huge programme to do, so said to Tracy: “I can’t speak; could you share your testimony?” She shared the most personal stories about abuse in her life and how God had started to heal her heart. At the end of it, I think twelve people became Christians, and eight people rededicated their lives to the Lord. I remember saying to Tracy: “God’s given you an anointing for speaking and sharing your life.” Tracy became an author as well as a speaker and, over the years, we’ve continued to travel together.  

During COVID, we realised that people were really struggling with isolation. We had to become an online ministry, which was quite technically challenging for us, but we did it. A lot of what we do now is online; we run conferences, we do four concerts a year and we run Zoom groups. We have small groups coming to our home too, and the sessions are often centred on intimacy with God, because we believe that although people may hear what we say, the most important thing is for them to be tuned into God’s voice. 

Depending on God

God has taught me so much through being blind. I’m always saying: “Lord help me find this or that.” When I’m crossing a road, even with my guide dog, I say: “Lord, you know I need your help to cross this road. I want you to walk with me.” A lot of my songs are to do with God’s presence with us and his tender help. 

One time I was cooking and broke a glass bottle on the floor. I had a guide dog, and I really didn’t want his paws to get cut. I said: “Lord, I really need help. I don’t know what to do!” About a minute later, the doorbell rang. I opened it and a friend was there. She explained: “I was passing your road, and felt God say, ‘Go and visit Marilyn. She needs help’, but you look all right; I must have got it wrong.”

I said: “No, I need help!” so she came in and cleared it all up.

I used to talk about living life for God, and, in my heart, I felt him say to me: “Marilyn, it’s not living life for me, it’s living life with me. It’s you and me together. We’re doing life together.’ 

Find out more about Marilyn’s ministry: mbm-ministries.org/