and on earth, peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
Welcome to my musings...
Sunday, December 2, 2012
The Answer Has Come
and on earth, peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Thirty-Six Days

I can no longer pretend it isn’t happening. No more burying my head in the sand, pretending not to see what is looming on the horizon. Thirty-six days. That’s all that remain…thirty-six days until it happens. The very thought of it makes my throat close up, my heart ache and my eyes well up with tears. What is it, you ask? No, it’s not the end of the world, or the loss of a loved one or a catastrophic event. It is simply the graduation of my first-born. “Oh, is that all?” you laugh. Yes, that is all, but so much more. I had no idea it would be so hard for me to enter this season of letting go. I find I’m so much better at the holding on. Last fall, when my oldest daughter began her senior year, I found myself tearing up very easily, and very often. At one point, eating dinner out alone with her, we began talking about graduation. Molly looked at me and very sympathetically said, “Are you going to cry again, Mom?” My answer…tears. Yes, I guess I am.
As her senior year progressed and we went through the usual progression of college mail, senior pictures and discussions of her future, I managed to live mostly in denial. Whenever we began to discuss what her homeschool graduation ceremony would look like, I would manage to put off that discussion for another time. When we discussed college, and scholarships and majors, I managed to think about it unemotionally, as if it were about someone other than my own daughter. I even made it through our first campus visit with enthusiasm and a sense of nostalgia for my own college days. I designed graduation announcements and made a list of recipients, discussed travel plans with family members and even began to plan the ceremony itself.
But lurking somewhere under the surface were unwelcome thoughts about the “lasts” we were experiencing with this child. Our special family trip to Hawaii last November had a shadow of “last” about it. Would this be the last time we traveled to our favorite place as a family of five? Would our next family trip (a much beloved tradition) be as a family of four? How many more Christmases would be celebrated with all our children around our tree? As I filled out my planner for homeschool, I realized that next year there would only be two columns, instead of three. As I began to research curricula for next year, I was searching for one-third less material. And finally, as I could put it off no longer, we began to fill out graduation announcements and order cake and plan the ceremony. And I began to let myself grieve.
As I write this, I am sitting in a hotel room in Houston. My husband graciously brought me along on his business trip to give me a few days of rest. I am comfortably ensconced in a lovely hotel room with a giant desk to work on and a picture window with a view of the woods. The day is grey and drizzly and it matches my feelings as I write, uninterrupted, sorting through the feelings I have so successfully squelched for the last few months. And I ponder…why am I grieving so fiercely? It’s not like anything that major will change. Molly will be attending a local university and living at home. I’m not losing her, not having to bear leaving her at a strange place and not seeing her for months at a time. So, why is my heart so sad?
I think it is this: I see it as the beginning of the end of something beautiful. I have loved being a mother more than words can say. From the moment I first heard those long-awaited words “you’re pregnant”, I have thrived as a mother. I love being with my children, I love teaching my children, I love sharing their hearts and their lives and their dreams. I love teaching about motherhood, and writing about motherhood, and encouraging other mothers on their journey. When Molly graduates, it means the others aren’t far behind, that someday, I will be finished. My children will be grown, and there will be no do-overs. I won’t get another chance to fix the things I did wrong, to re-live the chances I missed, or to relish the moments I overlooked. For better or worse, my job will be done. And oh, how that grieves my heart.
And yet, I know that this is the point. This is why I missed all those nights of sleep, why I dried so many tears and bandaged so many knees and cheered so many successes. To raise children who love God and follow Him was the goal all along. And as I watch these precious little souls blossom into adulthood with a faith that will sustain them all the days of their lives, I smile. And in the whispers of the silence, I hear a blessing from my Father, graciously saying “Well done.” And in the midst of my grieving, I am comforted. So, while I will undoubtedly shed a few more tears before we’re done, I will also rejoice as I watch my first-born begin her adult journey, knowing that God has good plans for her future, and for mine. So, for now, I will try to enjoy every single one of those thirty-six days, and not waste a single moment.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Just Yesterday...

I remember when, as a young mother, older women would repeatedly say, “Enjoy every moment…it goes so fast.” And inside, I would think, “Really? Because it seems like years since I had a full night’s sleep.” Not that I wasn’t enjoying every minute…but I sure was tired. Sometimes the days seemed long, when I was home all alone with three little ones needing every ounce of my attention and nurturing. Sometimes the nights seemed even longer. I never wished away the moments, although I did occasionally think “Okay, I am REALLY done with potty training now!” Sometimes the weeks seemed long, when my husband traveled on business and I tackled the parenting alone. Sometimes the seasons seemed long, when we entered a difficult phase with one of the children. But then something would happen to give me pause, like a baby learning to walk, a child losing his first tooth, or a kindergartener heading off to school, looking so grownup with their carefully chosen backpack on their back. And I’d think, “No, wait! It’s all going too fast!” And as each year passed, and my babies got older, it seemed that the calendar pages just started to fly. Soon we went from having one in school, to having three in homeschool. Overnight, it seemed, we went from being young parents with small children, to (gasp!) middle-aged parents with teenagers.
And today, we enter a new phase…that of parents to an adult. Eighteen years ago today, our precious firstborn entered the world and we became parents. I remember taking her home from the hospital and my husband and I looking at each other in disbelief that we were really solely responsible for this tiny little creature. Oh, and it couldn’t possibly be eighteen years ago…it was just yesterday, wasn’t it? It was just yesterday that we prayed desperate prayers that God would give us a child. It was just yesterday that she finally joined our family, the answer to a thousand prayers. It was just yesterday that she sang her way through our house, one minute being Cinderella and the next Snow White. It was just yesterday that she headed off to school and broke my heart when she came home with the oft-repeated phrase, “But, Mommy, Mrs. S. does it THIS way.” It was just yesterday when we pulled her out of school to continue educating her at home and we battled for a year before she became content with homeschooling. It had to be just yesterday when she fervently pledged her life to Christ and was baptized in our Jacuzzi tub. I’m certain that it was just yesterday when she started to grow into this lovely young woman who took my breath away when she danced. It was just yesterday when I saw her all decked out in a Civil War ball gown, with her hair in a beautiful updo and her makeup so perfect, heading off to the ball on her daddy’s arm. It was just yesterday that we began planning her future, with college choices and scholarship applications and late night talks about life and love. And now, here she stands, a beautiful young woman with a passionate heart and a determined outlook, ready to take those first steps into her adulthood. And I think my heart will overflow.
And now I know that those little old ladies were wise beyond measure…time really does fly and there is nothing we can do to slow it down. Those endless nights of rocking and feeding that tiny little baby will soon turn into late nights of waiting for your teenager to come home from work, and praying for her safety on the snow-covered streets. Those days of thinking you’ll never have an adult conversation again will soon turn into late night gabfests with your almost adult child. The carefree years of thinking they will always eat at your table, or be with you on vacation, or celebrate Christmas around your tree will all too soon be days of waving goodbye as she drives off to work, or watching proudly as he dons his cap and gown, or wiping away a tear as she walks down that aisle dressed in white to begin her life with another. You know what? The little old ladies were right.
So, as I celebrate my sweet girl today, I will be listening a little more closely, taking a little more time to just talk, and remembering each precious moment. And even as I grieve the “lasts”, I will be rejoicing in the satisfaction of watching a little girl grow into a woman who loves her family and her Lord and is ready to take those tentative first steps into the rest of her life. God be with you, my precious Molly. We are so proud of the lovely young lady you have become. You are a treasure and a gift, and your daddy and I will love you forever.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
A Legacy of Faithfulness - Part II

We are raising a generation of children who have no spiritual heritage. Because of this, we are sending them out into the world as easy prey for the one who seeks to destroy them. Even Karl Marx recognized this, saying, “A people without a heritage are easily persuaded.” We need to be giving our children a strong foundation for their faith, making sure they know what they believe, why they believe it, and that they are part of a legacy going back two thousand years to the birth of a Savior in a humble manger in Bethlehem. So, how does this happen?
God makes it clear to us in Deuteronomy 6 exactly how this is to take place. He says, “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.” God doesn’t say to casually impart His commandments to our children, or to take them to church once a week and hope that they somehow “catch” our faith. He says to impress them on our children. I looked up “impress” in the dictionary to get a better feel for what that word means. It means “to affect deeply or strongly in mind or feelings; to fix deeply or firmly on the mind or memory; and to urge, as something to be remembered or done.” To me, this implies something very purposeful and serious. First, God commands us to love Him completely; then, He commands us to pass on this command to our children. We should be teaching our children about Him at every opportunity, not just at church, or on Christmas and Easter. Talking about spiritual matters should permeate our days, including discussing such things at the dinner table, in the car on those many drives to baseball practice and in those heart-to-heart talks when their hearts are aching with hurt or frustration. When you read the newspaper at breakfast, talk about what you see in the world. Help them to recognize differences in worldview and how that affects what people see and believe. If we are not purposeful in making this happen, the years will fly by and our children will be gone…and possibly, so will their faith.
We also must be faithful in teaching them truth…that there is ONE truth, not many, and it comes from the Word of God. We must teach them to search Scripture to see if what they are being taught is true. We must make sure the education they are receiving is filled with truth, not lies. We must give them an appreciation for history and help them to recognize God’s hand of providence as they study stories of the past. As Os Guinness says, “Those who don’t know history have no sense of identity, and no sense of wisdom as they explore where they’re going to go. Without history, we’re lost!” Deuteronomy 32:7 tells us to “Remember the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you.” We need to pass on stories of God’s faithful people and how they persevered through trials, often giving their lives rather than surrender their faith. We need to instill in them a passion for truth in doctrine, as well. The Nehemiah Institute released a study showing that less than 10% of churched teens have a true, Biblical worldview. The world is apparently doing a whole lot better job of instilling its worldview into our children than we are…and that is shameful.
As we raise our children, we need to be disciplining them in ways that are intended for long-term results, not short-term peace. Just as pacifying a screaming child with candy at the grocery store gives a short-term answer (we are no longer embarrassed!) but leads to long-term disaster (a disobedient child who learns they can get whatever they want by misbehaving), our “quick-fixes” in spiritual matters often fail as well. While the world teaches us that we should desire happy children, God teaches us that our goal should be holy children. Be purposeful and persevering in looking to the end goal, a young adult who is surrendered to God and to His will. Let’s give our children a sense of vision and a purpose much bigger than themselves. Let’s raise children who will change the world for God, not lose their faith the minute they are no longer under our supervision. Let’s pass down a legacy of faithfulness which will continue for a thousand generations. Let’s wake up and take responsibility for our families before it is too late.
What kind of legacy are you leaving your children?
“Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments.”
Deut. 7:9
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Legacy of Faithfulness - Part I
A few months ago, we threw a big celebration. The occasion was my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary and our goal was to host a party that was memorable, fun, and that honored my parents’ love for each other through the years. The party was in a 50’s theme, complete with poodle skirts and swing dancing. We performed a skit, showing memorable scenes of my parents’ fifty years together, which brought much laughter and maybe even a few tears to the family and friends gathered to honor this much-loved couple. While the party was tons of fun, we also had a message that we desperately hoped to convey.
In recent years, the idea of legacy has had a profound impact on my family. We have come to understand that God intends for us to do much more than raise our children to be successful adults. We believe that God calls us to pass down much more than life skills or money-making talents, inheritances or college funds; He calls us to pass on a legacy of godliness and devotion to His will. If we raise our children to be fiscally responsible and well-educated, we still may have failed. Even if we raise our children to be hard workers and popular with their peers, it still isn’t enough.
Over and over again in the Old Testament, God promises something to us. He promises His faithful love “to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments (Deut. 7:9).” This verse has had a profound impact on my family. We have begun praying for this blessing for our family, praying not just for our children, but for our grandchildren, and our great-grandchildren, and our great-great-grandchildren. We pray for this blessing for generations we will never meet, but hope to influence. My parents pray this prayer faithfully for their grandchildren and for their grandchildren’s grandchildren, knowing that the prayers they pray now will have profound influence on the generations to come, long after they are gone. Our family legacy that we pray desperately to pass on to our children is simple: we pray that they will serve God faithfully and passionately for a thousand generations. If we have have nothing material to give our children when we are gone, yet succeed in teaching them this, we will have succeeded beyond all measure.
As a young mother, I think my vision for my kids went something like this: “I hope to raise them to love God, be financially stable and well-educated.” Some days, it went like this: “I just hope to get this kid potty-trained before kindergarten.” Other days, I despaired of ever raising them right. The vision was cloudy and changeable, and often I lived my daily life without really thinking of a vision at all. Now, my vision for them is much, much bigger, and much clearer: “I pray that my kids will change the world. I pray my kids will have lots of kids themselves and teach them to change the world for Christ. I pray that my family will serve the Lord God faithfully for a thousand generations.” I have started a book that I hope will be passed down in our family for generations. It is called “The Metzger Family Standing Stones”, representing the idea that God set forth in the Old Testament of building monuments to remind the Israelites of what God had done for them. In this book, I plan to write stories of the Metzger family…stories of God’s provision, His faithfulness and His everlasting love. I envision reading these stories to my grandchildren someday, helping their parents to teach them of a very special legacy. We will record our family stories for future generations, so they can see exactly how God’s faithful love spans the generations.
My parents have begun a beautiful thing in their fifty years of marriage. They came to know Christ early in their married life, and as they grew in their love for Him, they passed on that desire to serve Him to their children. As we grew up, married and had children of our own, we, too, grew in our love for Him, and now we seek to pass on that legacy of love to our children. I am blessed beyond measure to have been given such a beginning, and I pray that my husband and I will be diligent and purposeful in passing on the torch of faithfulness to the next generation.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
I Choose You
Last week, our family traveled to Indiana to spend Thanksgiving with my brother and his family. We were thrilled to have some family time together and couldn’t wait to meet the newest member of our family, a little girl named Emma. Emma is the second child to be adopted from China into our extended family. Emma’s new mom is my sister-in-law’s sister (confused yet?), so technically she is no relation to me. But I have never been one to care about the “rules” that define a family. My husband and I are close to Emma’s parents, having known them most of our lives. Our kids call them “aunt” and “uncle” and we fulfill the same role for these precious two little girls from China. We mutually decided that we were family and our kids were cousins. So it was with great expectation that we drove the endless miles to Indiana, anticipating the first time we would hold this amazing gift from God.
The first time we saw Emma was when we met at a portrait studio, hoping to update the “cousin” picture that we each have hanging in our homes. The studio was crowded and noisy, being the day before Thanksgiving. Little Emma, who is twenty-one months old, was very overwhelmed by the crush of people, the flashes of light and all these eager relatives wanting to hold her. She is still adjusting to her new life, having been with her new parents only a few months. She was seventeen months old when they got her, and was very attached to her caregiver, making the transition a painful one for her. Many, many tears were shed over the next days and continue to be shed as she adjusts to her new life. While I wanted desperately to hold her and kiss her, I held back, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. I waved at her from afar, delighting in her sweet face and adorable, toddling steps. The photo session will go down in our family history as quite an experience…the best one we managed to get was all the other kids smiling and Emma screaming her head off. All that mattered to me is that we managed to record a moment in our family history—the addition of a new cousin. The kids will always treasure that picture and tell of that picture shoot forever, saying, “Remember when?”
The next few days, the closest I could get to Emma was when I offered her a finger to hold as she toddled around the house. She wouldn’t let me hold her, but was delighted to go walking, holding on to my outstretched hand. We walked, back and forth, through the house, again and again. My heart was full as I memorized each precious feature of this miracle baby who had joined our family. My arms ached as I longed to hold her, but I determined to be patient and give this little girl what she needed until she felt safe enough to accept me.
Finally, on our last night in Indy, as I was sitting on the couch at Emma’s house, she came into the room, carrying a book. She looked up at me and smiled her beautiful, sweet smile. She reached up and handed me her book and then lifted her arms to me, asking to be held. I gently picked her up and placed her on my lap and she snuggled deep into me and looked up at me with that angelic smile, waiting for me to read to her. I literally felt my heart melt with love for this child. I held her close and read to her for as long as she would sit. We read about Australian animals over and over and over and I sang a silly song to her about the Kookaburra, delighting in her laughter. With that moment, Emma was sealed forever in my heart as a member of our family.
As I’ve pondered this experience, I had a moment of clarity. While Emma is not biologically a part of my family, she is now a member in full standing of the Blake/Richardson/Metzger clan. Her parents chose her, took her in, and love her completely. Her aunts and uncles adore her and her cousins delight in her. What a beautiful picture of what God has done for us. While we were sinners, having a nature that was completely opposed to His, He chose us to be a part of His family. He loves us, adores us, and delights in us. When we lift our hands to Him, His heart melts with love for us, just as mine did for little Emma. He has given us full standing as sons and daughters of the King and is preparing a home for us to live with Him forever. He has adopted us into His family and given us everything that we need. Just as Emma’s parents took her into their lives and their hearts, God has taken us into His. What a precious gift little Emma is to our family, and what an overwhelming gift God has given to us by choosing us to be His children. Thank you, Emma, for coming into our family and for showing us a picture of how very much our God loves us.
“God sent him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that he could adopt us as his very own children.” Galatians 4:5