Chapter One of his first book, The Fingerprint of God, is aptly entitled, "The Odd Couple." That's him and me for sure. Never mind that Dr. Ross makes reference to science and theology.

I collided with this astrophysicist late one night as I desperately searched for intelligent life on TV. Suddenly, there was Dr. Ross, shedding light on Genesis One, speaking energy into the mass plopped on the couch. He had me almost oscillating with joy over photons, baryons, and our entropic universe. Odd! Normally I cannot tell the difference between a parameter and a periwinkle. In my previous life (before I was a housewife) I was a science-hating kid.

I got a really BIG BANG out of the astrophysicist when I met him in person at an outreach one evening. Familiar with lower life forms such as me, he kindly held up a hand grenade to demonstrate the specifics of that particular theory. As a result, for one exquisitely satisfying moment, I had the whole expanding universe neatly tied down in my head. Truth in a nutshell, they call it.

Perhaps mad scientists and housewives do go together. I now (gulp) love earthquakes and hate UFOs. If you want to know why, get the straight facts from some straight people who were with me that evening. Ask Fred, Will, Pat, Bill, Peggy, Art, Millie, Jim, and Howie. If any of these folks cannot enlighten you on the above topics, or on bachelor stars and life on Mars, it may be blamed on magnetic interference from pretzel and cookie trays. Perhaps you could ask someone else who has heard the astrophysicist speak.

All I know is that I left the place strangely exhilarated. On the way home I blistered my husband's ears with a torrent of words. Both heart and mind were racing to express dimensions of my faith that had been magically quickened.

I took my "big bang," my explosion of joy, before the Lord the next morning. The housewife knew for certain once more that she was not high on freshly discovered brain matter. Photons and baryons gave her a headache. But as I sat at the Lord's feet in worship and quiet waiting, I suddenly got a practical handle on my own expanded faith. The Lord spoke to me through 1 Timothy 4:14: "Do not neglect your gift . . ." Tears shot to my eyes, and I began to understand.

God's gifts are for his glory and the building up of His church. We all spark each other's faith and joy when we stretch past our natural limitations to aspire after the highest possible intelligence and life form, namely "Christ, the power of God and the wisdom of God." The astrophysicist was not ashamed to let his light shine before men (and women). Amazingly, an ordinary housewife was extraordinarily blessed. Her God is every bit as big as his!

So what about my gift, my light? My gift requires fresh surrender to the Giver. Yes, I will continue to fill my assigned post in the prayer room Sunday mornings, but what of my light? Dare I put it on a lampstand before strangers and loved ones alike, before you? Dare I let it flash for this brief shining moment? I'm tempted to shrink back because I think that you (among others) might think I resemble a "weird astrophysicist."

The beauty of the astrophysicist's really big God is that He remains near to us in our weakness. May His perfect love continue to cast out my fear. Because He is not aloof, I need not be. At this holy season, may I convey with holy confidence the light, the exuberant faith, joy, and love, He has fanned to flame in me.

Mrs. Schiess, a talented communicator and an obvious RTB booster, wrote these words as part of a Christmas letter to her friends and family. She shared it with me, and I want to share it with all Facts & Faith readers. — K.R.