During a mission trip in high school, I was distracted by a question that seemed all-important in my 16-year-old world. Where would I attend college? I worried about which schools to apply to, and whether I’d get in. If I was accepted into more than one, I dreaded having to make a decision. It was less of a big deal than I felt at the time, but it wasn’t inconsequential. Regardless, I was in knots over all the unknown headed my way.

One night a girl on my team handed me a yellow slip of paper. It had my name at the top, and a few Bible verses written beneath in tidy black ink. She handed similar notes to several people. I don’t know how she chose which verses to give me. Perhaps I’d opened up about my worries during the trip. I don’t remember. All I remember is that I felt those words, deeper than I’d felt practically any Bible verse. The passage was Psalm 143:6-10.