Weston is growing up. My little runt (seriously he was only 8.11) has gotten so big. He has become his own individual, with his own likes, a ton of dislikes, and an instense desire to follw his Lord. We celebrated his baptism a few weeks ago and I was astonished at how much our church celebrated with us. They too see Weston's sweet spirit and so many of them told me what an example he had been to them.
He has gone a very long way from the time he announced to his Sunday School teacher that he didn't want to grow up to be a Christian because he wanted to go to hell. To see what it was like...
to having a conversation with me several months ago about how he looked forward to dying...so he could see Jesus. My heart was humbled by his simple faith.
Weston has also become a purple belt in karate.
And in case you were all wondering about my sanity. Wonder no more. I am insane. I saw Weston having so much fun learning how to kill people by slamming their heads into his knees that I had to join him. Twice a week I embarrass myself by pretending to be a ninja. But don't laugh at me. I can kick your butt.