angelaschmeling

Have you ever been caught in a whiteout? If you don’t live where it snows, you might not know what I mean. A whiteout is when snow blows so fiercely that it turns into a solid wall of white—you can’t see the road, the sky, or even a few feet in front of you.

Over the weekend, my sisters, my niece, and I drove 931 miles round‑trip to my grandmother’s funeral in Roseau, Minnesota. On the way up, we ran into patches of whiteout conditions and icy roads. When we stopped in Fargo, we seriously wondered if we should continue. But I had such peace in my spirit to keep going. So we pressed on—and the roads cleared. We made it just in time.

The funeral ended up being a sweet time of reconnection. We got to be a light to family we hadn’t seen in years. I met cousins I’d only known through Facebook. I hugged aunts I hadn’t talked to in a long time. I even visited my grandmother’s farmhouse and memories of sitting at her table eating those caramel‑marshmallow Rice Krispie bars—my favorite — washed over me. To this day, whenever I see them, I think of her.

It was a quick trip, but a good one.

The next morning, we headed home early. We knew weather was rolling in, and we hoped to get ahead of it. I joked to my sisters that we should text our cousin Jamie and tell him Minnesota blizzards were mild.

I would soon swallow those words.

About an hour into the drive, the wind picked up. At first the visibility was “okay-ish,” but it stirred urgency in me. Once we reached South Dakota, the radar looked better—but we still had to get through northern Minnesota and North Dakota to get there.

Then the full whiteouts hit.

We couldn’t see anything. At times, we drifted until the rumble strip hummed beneath us, just to reassure ourselves we were still on the road. Our car filled with prayers—pleas for protection, for just enough vision to know if a turn or another vehicle was ahead. We prayed for ourselves and for every other soul out there crazy enough to battle through that storm.

And yet, God gave me—the driver—an incredible peace. A peace that truly didn’t make sense. Human nature says panic. But deep down, I felt held. I trusted that whatever happened, He had us.

So why am I telling you this?

Because I think we all need whiteout prayers.

Prayers for the moments when you can’t see where you’re going. When the future feels as blurry as that wall of snow. When you’re not sure what’s ahead, and all you can do is ask God to guide your next inch, not even your next mile.

Whiteout prayers are the ones that say:

“Lord, I can’t see—but You can.”
“Show me just enough for the next step.”
“Give me Your peace when my eyes fail me.”

Just like that day, I couldn’t see beyond the storm, but I could pray: God, guide my hands. Guide my wheels. Give me wisdom. Light up the path—one breath at a time.

We can’t see the future any more than I could see through that blizzard. But trusting that God goes before you will take you farther than fear ever could. His peace is stronger than panic.

Psalm 32:8 (KJV)
“I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye.”

This doesn’t mean you won’t feel fear. You will. But when you speak the name of Jesus and let Him turn fear into calm, you become steady—even in the storm.

My sister was a champion the whole trip. Every time visibility opened, even for a second, she would shout, “Thank you, Jesus! Okay—now just a little more!” And she kept breaking the journey into tiny goals:

“Alright, now let’s make it to here.”

That’s a powerful way to walk with God, too.

Sometimes progress feels invisible. But when you break your prayers into smaller steps—when you write them down and look back later—you’ll see how far God has taken you. Even small progress is still God at work.

And He is working. Every day. Even when life feels like a total whiteout.

So let’s start praying whiteout prayers.

Prayers for the future.
Prayers for the unknown.
Prayers for the fears that try to grip us.
Prayers for the new job, the new house, the new season—
everything.

Take it to Him. Hand it over.
And let His peace—His deep, steady, overwhelming peace—guide your heart.

Job 23:10 (NKJV)
“But He knows the way that I take;
When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.”

When you face the unknown, here’s a breath-prayer to anchor you:

Inhale: “God, You are with me.”
Exhale: “I trust You completely.”

Even in a whiteout, God sees the road.

And He will get you home.