Where God Called Him: Bryson Metz
By: Chase Muro
There are certain people who leave an impression long before they ever tell their story. They are not the loudest voice in the room or the first person to tell you about their accomplishments. Instead, their character quietly speaks for them. Bryson is one of those people. On paper, his journey looks like the dream many young basketball players hope to live. He earned the opportunity to play college basketball, started games at Vanguard University, graduated with a business degree, and recently accepted his first coaching position in Southern California. Yet after spending time listening to Bryson reflect on his life, it becomes clear that basketball was never the center of his story. It was simply the path God used to teach him where true identity is found.
Like so many young athletes growing up in the Pacific Northwest, Bryson's childhood revolved around basketball. Practices filled weeknights. Tournaments filled weekends. Empty gyms became familiar places where another hour of shooting or another workout always seemed worthwhile. There was never a guarantee that those hours would lead anywhere, but Bryson believed the opportunity to improve was worth pursuing regardless of the outcome. Long before recruiting became part of the conversation, he had already fallen in love with the discipline the game required.
As high school approached, basketball naturally became more competitive. The dream of playing in college slowly shifted from imagination to possibility. Coaches began watching. Highlight videos became important. Recruiting camps appeared on the calendar. Like every parent who wanted the best for his son, Bryson's father encouraged him to put himself in front of as many coaches as possible. Every email sent and every highlight video shared represented another chance to be noticed.
Bryson remembers those conversations well.
"My dad was super on me about, 'You've got to send out your tapes and all this stuff,'" he said with a laugh. "And I just kept telling him, 'The Lord will place me where He wants me to be.'"
It's not the answer most athletes give when talking about recruiting. Many remember the rankings, the scholarship offers, or the pressure of wondering whether enough coaches had seen them play. Bryson certainly worked for every opportunity he received, but he refused to let uncertainty consume him. He believed his responsibility was to prepare himself. Everything else belonged to God.
"I wasn't super worried about the recruitment process as much as he was," Bryson explained. "I just felt like God would direct me where He wanted me to go."
That confidence wasn't built overnight. It had been growing quietly for years through someone Bryson still speaks about with tremendous admiration.
When conversations turn toward faith, Bryson rarely starts with church. He starts with his grandfather.
"My grandpa was kind of the foundational piece of my faith," Bryson said. "He gave his life to Jesus when he was in his later twenties and never looked back."
His grandfather wasn't simply someone who attended church every Sunday. He was someone who consistently lived out what he believed. Bryson remembers being invited to church, hearing stories about Jesus, and watching his grandfather quietly model what a life of faith looked like. Looking back now, those moments seem invaluable. As a child, however, they felt much different.
"When you're a kid, you don't really take that as a gift," Bryson admitted. "It's more kind of like, 'What is he saying to me?'"
It's a feeling many people can relate to. Wisdom often sounds ordinary when we're young. Years later, we realize someone was planting seeds we wouldn't fully appreciate until much later.
Ironically, Bryson says his own faith became personal after leaving Christian school.
For two years he attended Kings Way Christian, but admits his relationship with Christ wasn't where it needed to be.
"I went to Kings Way Christian for two years," he said. "At that time I really wasn't following Jesus at all."
After transferring to Union High School, something changed.
"Once I transferred to Union, I felt like I found my faith a lot more, which is kind of ironic."
That growth didn't happen through one dramatic moment. Instead, it developed little by little until Bryson realized his priorities were changing. While many teenagers were drawn toward parties and distractions, he found himself focused elsewhere.
"I didn't really indulge in any of that party stuff," Bryson said. "I was trying to get a scholarship for basketball. I just had no interest in any of that."
There wasn't judgment behind those words. There was simply conviction. Bryson knew what he hoped to accomplish, but more importantly, he knew the type of man he wanted to become. Basketball mattered deeply to him, yet it had already begun taking its proper place. It was becoming a gift from God instead of becoming his identity.
Eventually, the opportunity he'd been praying for arrived.
Vanguard University invited Bryson to visit its campus in Costa Mesa, California. Like every recruit, he walked through the facilities, met the coaching staff, and imagined what life could look like if he chose to attend. Some athletes spend weeks comparing schools before making their decision. Bryson's experience was much different.
He knew.
Before the flight even landed back in Washington, Bryson looked at his father and made the decision.
"I told my dad, 'I'm gonna commit,'" he remembered with a smile. "I literally knew."
Years of trusting God's direction suddenly made perfect sense. The same peace Bryson had spoken about throughout the recruiting process followed him onto that airplane. It wasn't because every question had been answered or because every uncertainty had disappeared. It was because, for the first time, he could clearly see the place where he believed God was calling him.
What Bryson couldn't have known was that Vanguard would give him far more than a basketball education. It would introduce him to a coach who would reshape the way he viewed success, challenge him to find his identity in Christ instead of the game he loved, and prepare him for a life that extended well beyond the final buzzer.
Bryson's confidence in God's plan didn't remove uncertainty from the recruiting process. It simply changed the way he viewed it. While many athletes spent their junior and senior years refreshing their inboxes, wondering which coach might call next, Bryson focused on the things he could actually control. Every workout became another opportunity to improve. Every practice became another chance to honor the gift God had given him. He understood that college basketball was never guaranteed, but he also believed that if the Lord wanted him somewhere, no missed email or overlooked tournament would stand in the way.
That perspective allowed Bryson to enjoy a season that could have easily become overwhelming. The pressure of earning a scholarship still existed, but it never became the defining feature of his high school experience. Faith had quietly replaced fear.
For someone who had spent most of his life in the Pacific Northwest, Southern California felt like another world. Palm trees replaced evergreens. Sunshine replaced the familiar gray skies of western Washington. Yet it wasn't the weather that caught Bryson's attention.
It was the people.
There was something different about the culture. Basketball mattered, but it didn't feel like the most important thing. Conversations naturally drifted toward faith. Coaches spoke about character as often as they spoke about competition. Winning was expected, but becoming the kind of man God had called each player to be seemed to matter even more.
Looking back, Bryson believes that visit answered questions he hadn't even thought to ask.
The campus felt peaceful.
The coaches felt genuine.
The mission felt authentic.
Sometimes God closes doors until only one remains open. Other times, He simply places such a deep sense of peace in your heart that the next step becomes obvious.
For Bryson, it happened somewhere between walking across campus and boarding the plane home.
There was no long list of pros and cons.
No weeks of anxious waiting.
No sleepless nights wondering what the right decision might be.
There was simply peace.
For four years, Bryson grew in ways that could never be measured by a box score. His role expanded, his confidence grew, and his statistics steadily improved, but when he looks back on his college career, the numbers are rarely the first things he remembers. His favorite memories are attached to people, not points. They are connected to teammates who became brothers, coaches who became mentors, and a community that continually reminded him there was something more important than basketball waiting outside the gym.
One of those memories came during his senior season against Point Loma, one of the premier programs in the conference. It was the kind of game every competitor circles on the schedule.
"I think my favorite game was probably against Point Loma my senior year," Bryson said. "We beat them by almost twenty. I think I had eighteen or nineteen that game."
He laughed before quickly adding, "Then they got us by about twenty-five at their place."
That response says a lot about Bryson. Even when talking about one of the best performances of his career, he immediately remembered the rematch. Basketball has a way of keeping people humble, and Bryson learned early that one great night never defines a career, just as one difficult night never erases it.
Those lessons became especially important because Bryson knew something every athlete eventually has to face. No matter how much someone loves the game, basketball always ends.
Some players spend years fearing that moment. Others avoid thinking about it altogether. Bryson approached it differently. Because Coach Rhett Soliday had spent four years reminding his players that their identity was rooted in Christ instead of competition, graduation never felt like losing himself. It simply felt like turning the page.
As one chapter quietly closed, another unexpectedly opened.
This fall, Bryson will return to the game he loves, but from a completely different perspective. Instead of putting on a jersey, he'll pick up a whistle. Instead of asking coaches for guidance, he'll become one himself. Bryson recently accepted the position of freshman head basketball coach at St. Margaret's Episcopal School in San Juan Capistrano, California, while his brother will coach the junior varsity team. It is difficult not to see God's hand in that opportunity. The young man who once learned from coaches is now being trusted to shape the next generation.
When asked about the opportunity, Bryson didn't begin by talking about wins or championships.
He talked about culture.
"Our goal is just to go in there and kind of change the culture," he said. "We know what it takes. It takes commitment and sacrifice. It's not easy, but it's all worth it."
Then he repeated something Coach Soliday had taught him years earlier.
"If it's hard, it's probably worth it."
The words sound simple, but they carry the weight of experience. Bryson understands that coaching has very little to do with drawing plays on a whiteboard. It is about building relationships. It is about teaching discipline, encouraging young people through failure, and reminding them that their value extends far beyond the scoreboard. In many ways, Bryson is preparing to become the kind of coach he was blessed to play for.
While basketball has remained an important part of his life, it has never been the only thing shaping him. Earlier this summer, Bryson returned home to Spokane to help his family with another dream. His father had recently launched Game Day Grill PNW, a food truck serving smash burgers, cheesesteaks, and other favorites throughout the Spokane area. It was a chance to spend time together, support a family business, and enjoy life away from the gym.
Then everything changed.
A wildfire began racing toward their neighborhood.
"My grandma called in a panic," Bryson recalled. "'There's flames in our backyard.'"
In an instant, basketball disappeared from everyone's mind.
His family feared his grandparents' home had been lost.
"We thought our grandparents' house was toast," Bryson said.
Thankfully, the home survived, but many others did not.
"Over six hundred homes were destroyed," Bryson said. "Thankfully, our family's okay... but I have friends who lost their homes."
Moments like that have a way of putting everything back into perspective. Championships fade. Statistics lose their significance. The people around the dinner table suddenly become the only thing that matters.
Perhaps that perspective explains why Bryson speaks so often about faith.
The seeds planted years earlier by his grandfather continue to bear fruit today. Bryson shared that after leaving for college and becoming more intentional about attending church, those conversations slowly began influencing his family back home.
"They've been really supportive," Bryson said. "When I'd call home, I'd tell them I went to church, and they started trying different churches too. It's actually something we talk about quite a bit now."
Faith often grows that way.
Not through one dramatic moment.
Not through one perfect conversation.
But through faithful examples repeated over time.
Near the end of the conversation, Bryson was asked what the phrase "Everyone Has a Story" meant to him.
His answer was simple.
"I think it just means everyone goes through different things in life, and I think that's what makes people people," he said. "You can't take that away from someone. Their experiences are what shape them."
Those words feel especially fitting after hearing Bryson's own story.
On the surface, it is the story of a college basketball player who earned a scholarship, became a starter, and eventually stepped into coaching. But underneath all of that is something much deeper. It is the story of a grandson who watched faith lived out before he fully understood it. A son who trusted God's direction during the uncertainty of recruiting. A player who discovered his identity was found in Christ instead of the game he loved. And now, it is the story of a coach preparing to invest those same lessons into the lives of young athletes who may not yet realize they need them.
Bryson once said, "The Lord will place me where He wants me to be." Looking back, those words were never just about choosing a college. They became the theme of his life.
God placed him at Vanguard.
God placed mentors in his path.
And now, God has placed him on another sideline, where the lessons he once received will be passed to the next generation.
Sometimes God's greatest work isn't found in the victories we celebrate.
Sometimes it's found in the people He quietly prepares us to become.
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Thank you for your time, my friend. May God bless you in all your endeavors, and may you continue to glorify Him through the way you live your life.
"Whatever you do, do from the heart, as for the Lord and not for others."
Colossians 3:23 (NABRE)
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🍔 Support Local: Game Day Grill PNW
If you're ever in the Spokane area, be sure to check out Game Day Grill PNW, the Metz family's food truck serving handcrafted smash burgers, loaded cheesesteaks, crispy fries, and other game-day favorites. What began as Bryson's dad's passion for cooking has grown into a family business built on great food and even better people.
📍 Spokane, Washington
📲 Follow: @gamedaygrillpnw