The candlelit communion service on Friday night was quiet and intimate and meaningful and good. It was easy to feel connected to Christ and his body. To contemplate the extent of his sacrifice - the spilling of his blood and the breaking of his body.

The sunrise service down by the lake on Easter Sunday morning was also lovely. There's something very special about that time of day when the dawn breaks. Something sacred. Especially on Easter morning. Maybe it's because most of us rarely see it. It is so glorious, but so often passes unnoticed. A new day. The earth turns. The promise of hope. Something beautiful.

I am feeling drained. Drained of tears. Drained of emotion. Drained of motivation.

I think God is currently trying to teach me a lesson in humility and in vulnerability. In plans and how they change and don't always go how we expect them to. Sometimes learning lessons is hard.

I am working on processing and accepting this change of plans. I am feeling tired and ready to be done, and now the end point will be more than a month later than I expected.

I am thankful for people in my life who listen. People who let me cry, who pray for me and give me hugs and send me encouraging words. People who help me realize this is not the end of the world, nor even the end of my journey into midwifery. That it could be a lot worse. In the long run, what's a few more weeks, really? It's an opportunity to practice, to gain more experience, to work on those areas I need to improve, to learn from other midwives. That can only be good, right?