He Can — But Will You?

“He gives beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” Isaiah 61:3

Last night was one of those quiet, holy moments that didn’t look dramatic on the outside but felt eternal on the inside.

I was in my bed. Pajamas. Laptop open. On Zoom with my Bible study girls in California.

From the very beginning, I could tell my sister — who leads us — was carrying something. Her voice was softer. Her energy wasn’t her usual steady strength. Instead of pushing through, she dimmed the lights, lit candles, and we just sat.

Forty-five minutes of worship.

I couldn’t hear the music on my end, so I pulled up my own. After a long day — meetings, responsibilities, decisions, the mental noise that never seems to turn off — I sat back against my headboard and let the songs wash over me.

There is no better way to end a day than surrender.

The final song that played is one the Lord keeps circling back into my life. I’ve recently written about it, but this time, one line caught me in a way it hadn’t before:

He can use anything. Sit back and watch Him.

This morning, as I was driving to work, those words wouldn’t leave me.

And two things stood out.

It doesn’t say He will use anything.

It says He can.

That word matters.

Can means ability.

Can means possibility.

Can means the power is there.

But it also means something is required of me.

Because He can use anything — but am I willing to let Him?

We love the promise that nothing is wasted. We cling to the hope that He brings beauty from ashes.

But “can” implies surrender. It implies permission. It implies that I have to open my hands.

He won’t force His way into my story.

He won’t override my control.

He won’t pry outcomes from my grip.

He can use the failure.

He can use the regret.

He can use the season that humbled me.

He can use the decision I wish I could redo.

But only if I release it.

Which brings me to the second half of the line:

Sit back and watch Him.

That requires action.

Sitting back means stepping out of the driver’s seat. It means loosening my need to manage the timeline. It means resisting the urge to fix what makes me uncomfortable.

It means trust.

And that may be the most beautiful part of walking with Jesus — He invites. He does not force. He restores. He does not manipulate. He redeems. But He waits for willing hands.

So many times I step in and make it about me — my performance, my strategy, my effort. When in reality, the story has never hinged on my ability.

It hinges on my surrender.

He can use anything.

The question is not about His power.

The question is about my posture.

Am I gripping it?

Or am I giving it?

If you’re holding tightly to something today — a mistake, a fear, a relationship, a dream — maybe the bravest thing you can do is loosen your hands.

He can use anything.

But you have to sit back and watch Him.

My Prayer:

Jesus,

Thank You that nothing in my life is beyond Your ability to redeem. Thank You that You can use even the parts I wish I could erase. Forgive me for gripping what You are asking me to release. Teach me to trust You with outcomes, timing, and control. I open my hands to You today. Take every failure, every regret, every uncertain place — and use it for Your glory. Give me the courage to sit back and watch You move.

Amen.