Letters to Oliver: I Wish I Had Never Left

by Sentimentalthoughts

Higher Ground left me wishing to hear the letters from Shane to Oliver. Since we didn't get that privilege, I decided to try to write a few. Again, it is the incredible skill of Martha Williamson and the talent of actors who have bring these characters to life and to our imaginations.

2. Chapter 2: Fear of Failure

March 12

Dear Oliver

A week has past since I wrote to you. I was trying to gain some perspective before I wrote you again. Gaining perspective - that is a work in progress. This week we were fully briefed, read-in, and divided into teams. We have been appointed, assigned, and scheduled. Most of us work 12 - 16 hour days. The people I work with are focused and unwavering. They assume if you take a seat at this table that you are up to the task - that you are part of the solution - that you can do what you were brought her to do.

I, on the other hand, am tired and overwhelmed. I am afraid. I am afraid that I can't do what they need me to do. What if I miss something? What if I misinterpret data? What if I fail? The more afraid of failure I become, the more nervous I become, and the more clouded my thoughts seem to be. What if I can't do this – this thing that matters to so many people?

I was trying to remember a verse that I heard you say. "God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of love and of a sound mind." I try to imagine you saying that to me. I can see your face, the calm assurance in your eyes. Then you lean in a little, with one eyebrow slightly raised, you smile, and you whisper this verse to me. I keep playing this scene over and over again in my mind. I take a deep breath, and I go back to work.

Is it ridiculous to imagine you here, reassuring me? Is it silly to write letters that I cannot mail? You don't seem as far away when I write, especially because I am writing with your pen.

Yes, I have your grandfather's pen with me. I have confession to make. I intentionally brought it. I was packing and realized that I still had it in my pocket. In the confusion of the moment I forgot to return it. I don't believe that it was by accident that this opportunity came to me. It was divine delivery just as you are a divine delivery into my life. The pen is a little part of you that I get to keep with me – even so very far away.

And now, when I am worried about the job ahead, writing with this pen, your pen, makes things a little better.

You were so reassuring and affirming at the jazz club, on our walk, on my porch before you left. I could use your words now. If only you could whisper in my ear tonight.

Until I can actually hear your voice,

Shane