Uncharted Territory

LAURA HOLMES


In May 1804, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, along with an intrepid crew, left St. Louis, tasked with finding a water route to the Pacific Ocean. They were determined to follow the Missouri River through uncharted territory to its source, somewhere near the Continental Divide. Once they scaled the Divide, it was their hope that they could plop their canoes into the nearest river and sluice straight into the Pacifc Ocean.

The journey west was a daily struggle against the current. It was grueling. It was daunting. By October, the Corps of Discovery reached North Dakota and met Sacagawea. Five months. 1,000 miles. Seemingly forever to go.

Everything took longer than expected. Fifteen months into the journey, Lewis found the source of the Missouri River. He scaled that mountain, convinced that the Pacific Ocean had to be just on the other side. At the summit, instead of hope, he found heartbreak — miles and miles of unending mountain ranges loomed ahead. Far from a quick paddle to the Pacific, they were still 500 miles from their destination. On that mountain top in the darkness, despair, frustration, and exhaustion reigned. Despite having no clear path forward and only the stars to guide them, they pressed on.

You may know the rest of the story. Sacagawea reunited with her long-lost brother, who gave them the horses they needed to cross the mountains. The Nez Perce met them in the mountains and taught them to make dugout canoes. With this help, the Corps made it to the ocean in November 1805. That day, Lewis wrote in his journal, “Ocean in view! O! The joy!”

This pandemic has been its own kind of uncharted territory. Unprecedented times! Think back to last March. Remember the “15 Days to Slow the Spread” campaign? We thought that we could have this thing beat in just 15 days? Bless our hearts. We were so hopeful. We would use this time to clear out our clutter, bake our own bread, get into shape, better ourselves. 

It turned out that we were fighting against the current more than we knew. Five months in, thousands of deaths and the realization that we still had a long way to go. We became our own Corps of Discovery.

Schools started with no easy answers. In person? Remote? Hybrid? We all did our best for the kids despite strange new protocols that shifted every week. We tried to find new methods to connect and stay safe. We masked up, worked from home, but always there was a low-level background hum of stress that slowly exhausted us. 

Researchers raced to develop vaccines, to give us hope that normal could return. We climbed to the top of that hope and saw not the sparkling sea of solutions, but variants on the horizon.  Vaccination challenges. Climbing death tolls. Heartbreaking loss upon loss.

So now what? What choice do we have but to press on? How do we do that? How do I do that? I have to trust that there is a path out of this wilderness that leads to life. As Morgan Harper Nichols says, “It is taking everything within me to keep waiting, but this is the miracle I am coming to know: this desert journey has made me weary, but my heart is still slouched toward hope. And I believe I can know peace without knowing what comes next. I will trust that in the waiting everything connects.”

How much farther do we have to go? Probably I don’t want to know. It sure feels like 500 miles on foot through the mountains. But for today, my task is to do just what is right in front of me. If I’m exhausted and can’t move upright toward hope, slouching in that direction is ok, too. I don’t need to see the whole path.

Take the next step. 

Focus on that.  

Look for helpers.  

Search for beauty.  

Grab hold of peace.

              Breathe.

Friends, right now on this mountain, as we wait for the light, remember that the dark holds its own kind of beauty. Don’t be afraid of the dark. Let your eyes adjust so you can look up and see the stars. While not yet in view, believe the ocean is out there under those same stars. 

Oh, the joy!


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Laura has the privilege of introducing fifth graders to this amazing story every single year. Her own intrepid crew consists of Bryan, Lily, and Claire, who daily remind her there is love, beauty, compassion, peace, and joy to be found at all points in this journey. Laura loves feeding people and listening to their stories. She speaks fluent metaphor and is a major sucker for clearance plants (“They’re only ‘mostly dead’.”).  And if you need a West Wing, Gilmore Girls, or Princess Bride quote, hit her up. She’s got ‘em!

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