Through sacrifice and care, my parents raised me in a loving home and taught me compassion, faith, and the importance of living for something greater than myself. As a child, I began to trust in God. One of my earliest prayers was for a little brother, and I still thank God for answering it. As I grew older, I realized that many truths I had learned remained mostly in my head. God began a long process of moving them into my heart and changing how I lived. One night in high school, while reading Psalm 51, I became deeply aware of my sin, weakness, and need for God. I was beginning to “come to my senses” and escape the trap of the devil (2 Timothy 2:26). Christ reminded me that His love alone could save me and give me eternal life and the privilege of knowing God. I struggled with impulsiveness, self-control, and rebellion. I believed having more things would make me happier and that I could overcome temptation through willpower alone. Both beliefs failed me. Over time, I learned that lasting contentment is found in Christ and that I also need the mercy, wisdom, and support of others. During college, I became aware that I had grown numb in my relationship with Christ and detached from other people. Like Paul, I knew what was right and wanted to do it, yet often failed (Romans 7:19). Reason, discipline, and religious effort were not enough. I prayed for God to soften my heart, not realizing how difficult the answer would be. During graduate school, I experienced heartbreak, depression, joy, doubt, and spiritual conviction. Change did not happen overnight. While praying with a close friend, I experienced a striking vision of something beautiful, bright, and powerful—a figure marked by strength and intense light. Whether it represented Christ, a guardian, or the person God intended me to become, I cannot say with certainty. What I do know is that the depression weighing on me was broken that day. Since then, God has continued to mend and heal my heart. While living in Utah, I was struck by a car while riding my bicycle. Months later, I climbed a nearby canyon and descended at 40 to 50 miles per hour. At the bottom, after stopping at a crowded intersection, I pulled on the handlebars to cross—and they came completely off the bicycle. I fell but suffered little more than embarrassment. Had they failed during the descent, the outcome could have been devastating. I received that moment as God’s grace and a reminder that my life has purpose. God later brought my wife, Mollie, into my life. Through marriage, I have experienced the beauty and challenge of growing together and learning a more selfless love. Relationships reveal where we still need to grow, sacrifice, forgive, and receive grace. Through marriage and Christian community, I came to understand more fully that faith is strengthened through conviction, knowledge, heartfelt love, and shared life with others (Luke 10:27). My mission is to love others with the love and grace God has given me and to share the hope of reconciliation through Christ. I believe that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, became human, died on the cross, and rose from the dead to save me from sin and death. God has changed me and is still changing me. Christ’s blood saves me, His love encourages me, God’s Word instructs me, and the Holy Spirit gives me the desire and ability to change. Even now, God is shaping me into an instrument for noble purposes—holy, useful to the Master, and prepared for every good work (2 Timothy 2:21). Reconciling Faith and Science As a scientist, I am often asked how I reconcile faith in Christ with my work. The question assumes that science and faith are naturally opposed or that anyone can live without faith of any kind. In reality, everyone relies on trust. We trust that our senses are generally reliable, that the universe behaves consistently, and that the world can be understood. Scientific inquiry also rests on foundational assumptions: that the universe is ordered, patterns can be observed, and natural phenomena can be investigated through natural causes. Science is a powerful method for understanding how the natural world works, but it is not designed to answer every kind of question. It can describe processes associated with love, suffering, and moral decision-making, but it cannot determine why love matters, why human beings possess dignity, or why we ought to pursue what is good. Another reason I believe Christ is the only way is the radically different nature of the gospel. Human beings naturally want to justify themselves through effort, discipline, knowledge, or goodness. This can lead to pride when we think we are succeeding and despair when we fail. The gospel confronts both responses. Christianity does not teach that I can save myself by becoming good enough. It teaches that salvation cannot be earned and that God came to us in Christ, offering forgiveness through grace and sacrificial love. Salvation rests not on human achievement but on what God has done for us. Christians and many other religions have sometimes distorted this message through legalism, control, or self-righteousness, but those distortions are not the gospel. The message of Christ humbles us because we cannot save ourselves, yet gives us hope because we do not have to. I believe this grace—perfect love given rather than earned—can free people from pride and despair and transform the human heart. For me, scientific discovery does not weaken faith; it deepens my wonder. Science teaches me to ask careful questions and follow evidence. Faith teaches me why truth matters, who I am, and how knowledge should be used—with humility, wisdom, love, and responsibility. Together, they lead me not away from God, but toward greater awe, gratitude, and purpose.