Song - he handed it to me

In our family it was known simply as "the violin". And for as long as I can remember it was there, living on a shelf in mom and dad's closet. Obviously it was old and from outward appearances it wasn't in great shape. The strings were loose and ragged, the bridge was warped, and there was a small crack in the top that had been repaired at some point. And the case was practically falling apart. From time to time Dad would tell us the story...
"When I was a boy", he'd say, "I watched my dad build this violin from hand. He carved the scroll with a pocket knife and used a piece of curved glass to shape the arched top."
To a kid it seemed fantastic, but as an adult I found it almost unbelievable. My grandfather - PaPa to us - was not a violin maker. As far as we know this is the only one he ever built. And no one in our family was a violinist. So we don't know how he did it - or why - but here it is. At some point Dad offered to let me keep it at my house, where it once again sat on a shelf. For at least the last 60 years it had not been played. And maybe it never had.
A couple of years ago I decided to have the violin checked over to see if it could be made playable, and a local gentleman replaced the strings, the bridge and the soundpost. Now it was a playable instrument with a beautiful, soulful sound.
Sometimes when I perform I ask a violinist to play with me as I play the piano and sing, since several of my songs lend themselves to that treatment. I thought, "how cool would it be if someone played Grandad's violin on one of my songs". And so it was that in July of 2019 an audience heard "the violin" for the first time, played beautifully by Rebekah Howard George.
As I thought of how sad it is that this instrument's beauty and potential sat unappreciated for so many years, I realized the same thing happens in the life of a person who rejects Christ's love, compassion and salvation - until that person finally "takes it off the shelf" and accepts the gifts He offers. And so "He Handed It To Me" came to life.
"When I was a boy", he'd say, "I watched my dad build this violin from hand. He carved the scroll with a pocket knife and used a piece of curved glass to shape the arched top."
To a kid it seemed fantastic, but as an adult I found it almost unbelievable. My grandfather - PaPa to us - was not a violin maker. As far as we know this is the only one he ever built. And no one in our family was a violinist. So we don't know how he did it - or why - but here it is. At some point Dad offered to let me keep it at my house, where it once again sat on a shelf. For at least the last 60 years it had not been played. And maybe it never had.
A couple of years ago I decided to have the violin checked over to see if it could be made playable, and a local gentleman replaced the strings, the bridge and the soundpost. Now it was a playable instrument with a beautiful, soulful sound.
Sometimes when I perform I ask a violinist to play with me as I play the piano and sing, since several of my songs lend themselves to that treatment. I thought, "how cool would it be if someone played Grandad's violin on one of my songs". And so it was that in July of 2019 an audience heard "the violin" for the first time, played beautifully by Rebekah Howard George.
As I thought of how sad it is that this instrument's beauty and potential sat unappreciated for so many years, I realized the same thing happens in the life of a person who rejects Christ's love, compassion and salvation - until that person finally "takes it off the shelf" and accepts the gifts He offers. And so "He Handed It To Me" came to life.