prayer

Nathan has had a love affair with airplanes as long as I've known him. His dad is a pilot, and he grew up with a passion for planes that didn't fade with childhood. Although I think he really would have liked it, Nathan did not become a pilot himself, but instead he studied to be a civil engineer. There wasn't any obvious connection between his career path and his love of planes, but God saw fit to allow an unlikely union of those two things to take place when, just over six months ago, Nathan became a proud employee of the Memphis airport in the development department, which just happens to be made up of a lot of engineers!

Since then, Nathan has been an avid explorer of all things airport. He has gone from department to department, learning what each one does and getting a feel for how the airport works together to function as a whole. I have been the sub-beneficiary of all of this knowledge, gleaning the information second hand over dinner each night. Since my knowledge base was non-existent when he started the job, it's no exaggeration to say my current understanding of airport functions has grown by leaps and bounds.

Sometimes some little snippet of airport info is especially interesting to me. Like when I found out that the airport has its own on-campus fire department. I really had a hard time digesting that as I confirmed with Nathan that the fire department, located airport property, existed for the sole purpose of dealing with airport fires. That seemed so shocking to me, mostly because I realized these guys must go years at a time without ever getting called for one fire. Keep in mind I know nothing about what this particular set of fire fighters does on a daily basis, but it seems to me that not having regular fires to keep you busy would lend itself to a constant struggle against becoming complacent. It has got to be difficult to stay alert, ready at a moments notice all the time, when things appear to be tranquil, steady and under control.

I was thinking about this last night when I met with a group to pray for someone who is in need of some prayer warriors to step up on his behalf. The man leading the group spoke with a passion for prayer that I have rarely heard, and his words were alive, both with the truth he was speaking and the solid belief behind every word he spoke. God used him last night to remind me of a lot of things, not the least of which was the importance of not becoming complacent in the season of life I am walking through right now.

It is shocking to me how easy it is to glide into a comfortable pattern of minimalism in my relationship with God when there isn't a crisis to keep me totally, 100% leaning on Him. I am enjoying so many things right now: my kids, my marriage, my job, my friends, my church, my hobbies. All wonderful things to be grateful for, yet also so much to take me off my guard and reduce my level of urgency about things that need to be seen as exactly that, urgent. Like prayer.

I am so grateful to be reminded about the absolute necessity, not just of a quick few minutes of prayer each morning to start the day, but of serious, time investing periods of prayer. I was reminded that even though all of the public prayers of Jesus recorded in scripture are very short, He took long periods of time to get away and pray privately. In he midst of His very, very busy public ministry, Jesus took the time to pray. I needed to be reminded of that, especially now in this particular season, so that I don't become naive enough to get to the point where I imagine I can get by with a surface level prayer life.

The fact is, a surface level prayer life is never going to cut it, because no matter how the pie is sliced a relationship with God without the vital element of prayer firmly in place is always going to fall short what God intended for us. Boy, do I have a lot to learn in this area. I have seen some amazing things in regards to prayer in my time, but still, there is so much I'm lacking. I was challenged last night to make the next month a time of serious, life changing prayer, and I am taking that challenge. Over the next month, I am asking God to show me things about prayer that will transform my understanding of it in a way that will take me deeper than the surface level, out of complacentcy and into power.

What are the odds?

Marianna is a lefty. 100%, totally, without exception, she uses her left hand for everything. Even from a young age Marianna's preference was pronounced. Never would she color or use a spoon with her right hand, even if that is the hand I held it to. She would grab with her right, switch to her left, and proceed as normal. But what in the world are the odds of Adrienne following in her sister's footsteps? I have no idea what the odds are, but the liklihood of it happening appears to be about 100%.

I've noticed some telltale signs, but this morning I conducted what I consider to be the ultimate test. Adrienne was coloring with her left hand. I took the crayon away and put it in her right hand. Adrienne looked up at me, stared me in the eyes for a second, switched the crayon back to her left, and continued as normal. Exactly like her sister.

Two lefties. How weird is that?

genetic connection?

This past weekend Nathan's younger brother got married in Maryland, so it was off for a wedding weekend of fun for us. Marianna and two of her cousins were quite possibly the three most eager flower girls of all time, fulfilling their walking down the aisle duties with all the flair, smiles, waves, and grace that can be imagined.

But a few hours before the wedding, Olivia, Marianna's oldest cousin, received a birthday present from her grandmother (the grandmother her and Marianna do not share) for her 5th birthday, which is later this week. She got an adorable little raincoat and umbrella. Marianna was visiting her cousins' hotel room when the gift was presented, and although I wasn't there, I am told she took quite a liking to the gifts. So much so, in fact, that she went up to Mrs. Rome (Olivia's grandmother) and started a casual conversation that went something like this:

"Gran, (she calls everyone by their grandparent name, regardless of whether or not they are actually hers) my birthday is going to be on November 14th. I am having a family party, and you are welcome to come and bring me one of those?" (gesturing to the aforesaid coat and umbrella)

You recall my last post on etiquette? I believe that in every rule book out there, requesting presents from near strangers is taboo. Which really has me pondering, is there a genetic connection? =)

Etiquette and Decoupage

Those two things have nothing in common but their french sounding origins, just in case you were hoping for a deeper connection. But I have both on the brain, so I'm going to launch into this french themed post without further delay.

First, let's begin with etiquette. My brother-in-law got married this weekend, and being immersed in all the wedding minutiae reminded me that I'm not a great one for etiquette. Not that I don't like it or think it's nice, it's just not that important to me, and I know that lack of importance makes me a frequent violator. I'm fairly sure that sometimes I violate without even being aware of it, and then at other times I break etiquette simply because it slips my mind to do something I'm aware that I should be doing. Does that make sense? In other words, I don't frequently do something that will intentionally break etiquette, but since it's not something that ranks high on my priority list, I just forget about it. For example, I know that it is always good etiquette to write a thank you note for a gift, even if you received it in person and already thanked the person. I do it because I want someone to know I'm grateful and I don't want them to be offended, but I know without a doubt that there are times I've missed a note here and there. Last Christmas, for example, I found all the thank you cards I had written tucked away in a drawer, awaiting to be stamped and addressed. It was early February when I found them. But flip the coin, and I can honestly tell you that it is not important to me to receive a thank you card for something we've given. I always enjoy getting one and appreciate the thought behind it, but I never keep up with whether I've gotten one or not. It's just not that big of a deal.

What's most important to me is that I don't offend people to whom etiquette is more important. I never want to hurt feelings or irritate someone because I did not place enough importance on doing something correctly. At the same time I don't want to let etiquette rule my life or be the driving force behind why I do what I do. What do you think? Where is the healthy balance?

Now to the second, and completely unrelated except for the french origin, part of the post. My sister, Rachel, is now a stay at home mom, and the time at home has been the perfect breeding ground for her creative genius to flourish. She comes up with new projects and crafty creations just about every week. This week's, as you can probably guess, was decoupage. I have never dabbled in decoupage before, but having now completed two frames, I am sold! I loved it. I was able to make frames with scrapbook paper, a little paint, and glue. That's it! I have got to say that I'm really happy with how it turned out!! I can't show you one because it's a birthday present for someone who cannot have a sneak peak at her present, but I will show you the one I made for Marianna's room.

Rachel is interested in selling some of the stuff she is making at a crafts fair closer to Christmas, and I told her she needed a name for the business. I suggested E.L.K. Expressions, with the E.L.K. standing for all of our last names (my mom included). I was outvoted =). Some how that didn't have the ring they were looking for. Instead, I believe the new moniker will be Graceful Gifts. Simple, cute, and according to Nathan, more appealing on every level.

a sneak peek

Okay, the room isn't totally finished, but there's enough done to give you a sneak peek of the total bedroom makeover. I wish I had before pictures so that you could see the shade of pink we were dealing with before, but since I don't, you're just going to have to trust me if you have never seen for yourself, it was bright. I thought for sure I was going to have to prime the walls first to cover up that pink, but I decided to try Behr's paint plus primer to see if that step could be eliminated. Would you believe that it worked like a charm! That room, so very, very pink before, is now like a cloud of pale pink cotton candy, easy on the eyes and tranquil to the soul.

With a big thanks to our friends Jeff and Adam, the dollhouse bed is now a permanent fixture of our household. Marianna, exhausted from a day of trying to help me paint but never actually being allowed to, fell asleep on our last run of the day to Home Depot, so she has yet to see the bed up in her room. That should be a fun surprise for the morning.

But even before the little room-dweller's eyes have taken it in, here are the pictures of her new abode for you to enjoy.

what have we been up to?

Since getting locked out of cars, we have been enjoying a more conventional style of fun, starting with the our first baseball game of the season. I'm firmly convinced that AAA baseball exists for the sole purpose of providing the baseball "experience" for the cities that don't have a pro-team but still want to have a shot at cotton candy and foul balls, and that is exactly what the Red Birds do for us Memphians.

The baseball game gave us an excellent backdrop for a little cotton candy,

an adventure ride with dad,

the adrenaline buzz that followed,

a photo session with Rocky the Red Bird,

some play time on the play ground,

and a little wind down time before the big firework finish.

An Elvis tribute and a fireworks display wrapped up the night with a bang. It's Elvis week here in Memphis, which mostly just gives me a minute's reflection to remember that I know almost nothing about the man who has put Memphis on the map. I have never been to a vigil, intentionally listened to an Elvis song, or even visited Graceland (and believe me, if that sounds shocking to those outside the Memphis boundaries, I'm not the only one!!). But I did enjoy the fireworks and the tribute, and from the amount of dancing going on in the chairs next to me, I'd say the girls did too.

What else have we had up our sleeve? Adrienne's teeth have come in, restoring her to the blissful, easygoing, easy on Mom kind of girl she is. Marianna has started back to school, in our own at home kind of way, complete with her first art lesson from Rachel. Nathan has completed his first 6 months at his new job at the airport just in time for his vacation probationary time to end so that we can take off on Friday to fly to Delaware for his younger brother, Gregory's, wedding. And I have started a book that I think I'm going to very much enjoy called Same Kind of Different as Me, that came highly recommended and is so far living up to the praise.

In a nutshell, that is more or less what we have been up to, but I have saved the best for last to end here with a big finish. Today I happened to look on craigslist for no real reason at all, and I stumbled across something pretty amazing (I would say my best craigslist find ever, but since all I have to put it up against is my jogging stroller, that wouldn't necessarily be saying much, and I want to make it clear, it was a GREAT find!). I have been wanting bunk beds for the girls for when Adrienne outgrows her crib, but I had not started any serious looking since that time is still probably nine months or so away. But when I came to a listing for a "doll house bunk bed," I had to give it a look. When I clicked on the picture, I was sold. I haven't seen anything like it before, but it was so whimsical and fun I fell in love. See what you think.

Nathan and our friend Jeff are going to pick up all 440 lbs of it tomorrow. I'll have to paint Marianna's room—which is now the most unsubtle shade of pink known to man— something a little tamer, like maybe pale green, or pale pink, or pale lavender, or any shade that doesn't seem to be screaming at you when you walk in the door. This must be done before we get it assembled because Nathan said, once it's up, it ain't going anywhere, and I certainly can't blame him there. There is no denying it is on the large side. But it won't be long before Marianna will be enjoying a bunk nook in her doll house bed. Hers will be the window view, just in case there was any doubt. Adrienne, some time in the not too distant future, will take the bottom, and hopefully they will love this bed and their adventures in it for a long, long time to come.

Adventures with Adrienne

A few days ago Adrienne and I got another chance to spend the day together, just the two of us. Marianna had some ballet shoe shopping to do with her grandmother in anticipation of starting her first ballet class in September, and that left Adrienne and I to do the always exciting, but not necessarily eventful, running of the errands alone.

I've told you before that I love using the car time as quality time with the kids because it is in those rare moments that I have a captive audience. So we were singing and talking, practicing animal sounds, and having fun when we pulled up at the post office. This is one of our easy errands, just in and out. I get the mail at the PO Box for my work, and the box is located conveniently right inside the door. It's usually a 60 second round trip errand.

Most of the time I just grab my keys and the kids and head in, not even bothering with my purse or phone. But as soon as we arrived, I realized that an explosive diaper was going to detain us a little. Adrienne is cutting FOUR teeth right now, and she is suffering the consequences. She's thrown up, lost her appetite, slept like it was going out of style, and had a series of really horrible diapers. I've been feeling for her big time, willing those teeth to hurry up and come in so that she can go back to being herself. Until then, Adrienne and I are suffering through some diapers that are causing both of us some distress. This was definitely one of those diapers, and as explosive diapers are wont to do, it had spread to her dress.

Thankfully this was our last stop, and I knew I could get her cleaned up just as soon as we were home. I strapped on the diaper, sans diaper cover (for reasons you can guess), and headed in for a speedy mail pick up. It wasn't until I got to my box that I realized not only was I without diaper cover, I was without keys as well.

Then I remembered that I had locked the car. Following on the heels of that memory, was the memory that my phone, along with the keys and the diaper cover, was also locked safely away in my car. The other thing I forgot to mention? Right before running errands, I had run three miles in the high 80 degree heat. I was so soaked in sweat that I had exchanged my drenched tank top for one of my dad's over sized running shirts that was so long it almost covered my shorts.

So there I was, looking unshowered, dirty, and like something out of a fashion nightmare, toting a baby who used to be clean but was now dirty, diaper-coverless, and dressed in an outfit that had diaper remains drying on the hem, wondering what my next step should be considering that my keys were locked in my car, underneath a pile of diapers and wipes. It occurred to me that a phone call was a necessity, and knowing my odds were pretty much zero on being able to use the phone in the post office, I stood outside, debating about whether I was brave enough to ask to borrow someone's cell phone. I quickly decided I was not.

Plan B ended up being to walk to the little fabric store next door to the post office. I figured there I could at least patronize the store and get a little fabric in exchange for a phone call. They graciously welcomed me to their phone, and I pulled that shiny AAA card out—the one that had been suffering from lack of use for as long as I've had it—and began dialing the help line. They very efficiently took my information and told me that someone would be there with an hour and a half. I know that's not bad, but when the extent of the scenery involves the outside of the post office and the entertainment for the 15 month old ends with the "nature items" found in the small patch of grass we were sitting on, I knew we might be in trouble. There were lots of stores around us, but I didn't know when the locksmith would show up, and since I didn't have my phone, I needed to be on site and ready to show my ID.

Adrienne, not knowing that anything was amiss, never broke her stride. She played with my wallet, broke sticks, studied the texture of the bricks outside the post office, smiled at strangers, and kept her glow of cuteness, unaware as she was that her diaper had exploded on her dress and made her rather stinky. I decided to follow her cue and enjoy the time as best as we could. I also smiled at the people walking into the post office, almost all of whom gave me understanding nods and smiles, and to their credit, didn't give any "Boy, that girl and baby look gross" looks to us. One lady even offered us a ride!

It was an hour before our hero in the AAA truck arrived, but even then, the anti-theft technology on my car kept us detained another 20 minutes. When it was all said and done, our 60 second errand had morphed into an hour and thirty minute adventure with the following lessons learned:

*always lock the car with my keys, and not on the door handle.

*never leave the house in a such a state that you would be embarrassed to be stranded and seen by hundreds of people.

*AAA is a service worth having. I can even lock my keys in three more times this year without having to pay a dime!

sweating the small stuff

You always hear not to, and for the most part I don't have that much trouble letting the little things slide. But every once in awhile, I catch myself knotting up in a wad over something I know is not that big of a deal. The problem is, I can tell myself "This is no big deal. This is no big deal" until I'm blue in the face, and still sometimes, it seems like a big deal. Of course the disconnect between what I know and what I feel is almost always to blame. Knowing that it shouldn't be a big deal doesn't always stop me from running mental marathons around the subject.

Yesterday was definitely one of those times for me. A tiny nothing worked it's way into the forefront of my mind, and wouldn't you know I could think of hardly anything else the rest of the day. I was preoccupied, unable to take my Sunday afternoon nap (yes, I actually let it steal nap time away when everyone else in my house slept!) and all around just as frustrated with my inability to let it go as I was with the issue itself.

This had been going on for hours before I finally was able to come to the answer. And no, the answer was not to tell myself to buck up and move on. That doesn't always work as well as I might hope. Instead, I turned to a little verse tucked away in 2 Corinthians 10:5 that says, "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." The last part especially is what I had to remember. When I know that I'm off on something, or when I can see that letting go is clearly what the Bible would have me do, I have to take captive those thoughts that want to run away with my head. It is something intentional, and something I have to do sometimes many times over again. It's not a one stop shop for throwing the thought out never to have it come back. At least not always. In fact, yesterday I had to stop those thoughts in their tracks. And then I had to do it again when they popped back in my head. And again, and again and again until they were put to rest, once and for all. So finally, with a lot of prayer, I was able to lay that little thing down and go back to being a normal human again. I could focus on other things, enjoy reading a book, take part in the family conversations, and enjoy all the other lovely and ordinary things that were happening all around me.

The situation itself didn't change a bit, but what changed was my determination not to let my head become consumed with dwelling, rehashing, and sorting out something that I knew was no big deal.

Sometimes it's a whole lot easier said that done to get over the "small" things in life because they often are no small a all to you. It's naive to think a "pick yourself up and shake it off" approach is always going to work. But God gives us the power to do what He commands in His word, and this verse tells me that I can and must take put a stop the thoughts that don't fall in line with what God has for me. It's not easy, but boy is it freeing to finally let go.

it's official

I've been toying with an idea for the past few months, trying to think through everything involved and decide if I'm really ready for it. The zeal has definitely been there, but since zeal isn't necessarily enough by itself on this particular venture, I've been proceeding with caution.  I've been doing the ground work, ordering the equipment, reading up on the basics, and forming a plan of attack.  It is definitely not something I am undertaking lightly, but it is something that I think I'm officially ready to commit to.  So here goes commitment! 

I am going to run the St. Jude half-marathon in early December!!!!!

Part of me, and a kind of a big part of me at that, still doesn't know if it's possible for me to run 13.1 miles.  It seems completely CRAZY in fact.  But I've been reading my Runner's World magazine like there's no tomorrow, and it seems from everything I've looked at that I will be able to get myself into half-marathon shape if I am willing to commit and go for it.  

I've written several times in the past about running, and if you remember any of those posts, you'll understand why this isn't exactly a cake walk for me.  I wouldn't call myself the natural born runner, or even the person with a natural proclivity for running.  Rather, I am that person who is striving to enjoy running, even though it is something that doesn't come naturally at all.

I'll give you the bullet point version of how I arrived at this decision.  Back in May I went for my yearly examine and my doctor told me I needed to be exercising several times a week.  Nothing earth shattering in that little memo, but hearing the words out loud made me realize it was something I had definitely let slide.  In fact, since we adopted Adrienne I had run only a handful of times (and in case you aren't doing the math, that had been a year!).  So the first week of June I started running, but I couldn't even make it a mile without having to walk.  I did a run/walk thing for most of June until I could finish two miles—huffing and puffing—but all running.  I kept chugging away through July, aiming to increase my number of minutes I could sustain a running pace, until I finally got to my target goal of 35 minutes.  

This is where the strategy comes into play.  All my reading has told me that I need to choose a training schedule and stick to it, and even though I haven't 100% nailed down the one I'm going to follow (suggestions welcome!), I have noticed a trend.  All of the plans say that I need to be at a basic level of fitness where running 3-4 miles is no problem.  Most of the training schedules are between 10-12 weeks, which means that official training would begin in September, so I've known since June that if I really wanted to do this, I needed to be up to my 3 or 4 miles by the end of August.  That's why this morning when I ran three miles and wasn't winded, I decided I was ready to commit all the way.  

Yes, there is still a loooooooooooooooooong way to go from now until December.  In fact, 3 miles seems down right puny in comparison with the 13.1 it's going to take to cross that finish line.  But when I look back and see where I've come in the past two months, it gives me enough encouragement to think that just maybe I can really do this.  

That, plus the fact that I just got new running shoes.  Oh, the motivation that comes packaged up with a shiny new pair of sneakers!

I'll let you know how the training goes from now until December, at which point if I make it across the finish line, I will promise to put a picture of me crossing it, no matter how near-death I look. I am setting my sights ahead and looking forward to that moment!

a glimpse into life as an only child

Yesterday Adrienne got this glimpse for one of the first times in her life.  Marianna went for a sleepover with her Emme, leaving Nathan and I to spend the evening and the better part of the next day with one vivacious 15 month old who has never really tasted of the life of the child who enjoys the undivided attention of her parents.  We discovered early on that while our love doubled instantly when Adrienne entered our home, our time did not, meaning that most of Adrienne's waking hours have been shared with her sister.  

Of course that is just part of life.  You can't have multiple first children, and I don't think that even if we could that would necessarily be a good thing. All of us with more than one kiddo realize the distinct advantages that come with having siblings.  Adrienne has never lacked a play partner, she has been drowned in the love of her sister from the moment she got home, and she benefits from getting to tag along with all the fun "big kid" things Marianna gets to do.  

But still, the other side, the side that Marianna experienced day in and day out for 2 1/2 years, has been mostly foreign territory to Adrienne.  So since the opportunity doesn't come along every day, we made a big time of it.  I dusted off all the board books that haven't gotten much use since Marianna has out grown them, we sang baby songs, practiced baby words and animal sounds, and did 100% age appropriate things all day long.  It was fun to rewind and go back in time a little to when that was really what I did, all day every day.  Now of course, those things get sprinkled in with the big kid stuff, and we have a beautiful mixture that is representative of our family.  I wouldn't trade it for anything, but getting a chance for some one on one time with each girl is something I treasure.  Adrienne and I had a big time, and I was reminded that my baby is getting to be more of a big girl every day.

a transplant story, picture style

There is one thing we Luces do very little of around here, and that is garden.  For three years in a row, I tried planting flowers at the beginning of spring with the same result every year: a garden full of dead sticks by the time mid-summer hit.  This has led us to depend upon  the heartier plants of the vegitation world to keep our yard landscaped, but even shrubs need some TLC every once in while. And from the looks of our yard before yesterday afternoon, they hadn't been getting any.

It was the sad condition of our beds that led to yesterday's total shrub transplant.  I'm not  going to lie, what we did yesterday may simply be a death sentence to the plants that have lived 6 years in front of our house.  Fingers crossed that is not the case!

Here we go, a picture by picture recap of the big transplant.  What good transplant story begins without something being ripped from the ground?  That's what I thought.  So here you have the shrubs in question, de-rooted, and sitting nervously in the grass, very, very unsure about what will happen next.

Next is the dirt, or the mud-padded-paws phase, as Marianna enjoyed calling it yesterday.  Our girl loves dirt, and her and Nathan had plenty of it.  They dug up the old dirt, added the new dirt, and mixed it all together to create (hopefully) a wonderful place of residence for our bushes.  

Somewhere along the way, the dirt led to silliness, as it is prone to do in these kinds of stories.  There is something about being that dirty and not being in trouble that brings out the kid in my two hard workers.

But as you can see, the trash can gives testament to the fact that it wasn't no work and all play.  It was filled to the brim with weeds, trimmings, and the like before our day was done.  

And finally, many showers, foot scrubbings, and hosings down later, we had a completed transplant.  Adrienne, all bright and sunshiney from her nap, was happy to finally get in on some of the action, even if it was just the "after" shot.

There you have it.  I guess with transplants there is always that tenuous rejection period, and I'm hoping our shrubs have the heart to hold on and not die.  My thumb is definitely not green enough to start from scratch!

Coconut and Cletus

Yesterday I asked Marianna if she would like to join the children's choir at church when she turns four. I explained that it is a special thing that only kids four and older can be a part of, and since she loves to sing, I told her I thought it would be an exciting thing for her to try. 

Marianna can be a little gun shy of new things, so her immediate reaction was, "No, mom!  I'm an awful singer.  Just watch: (she begins singing) A-B-C-D-E-F, Coconut.  See! I told you I'm awful."

I stifled a laugh, and told her that singing the wrong words to a song didn't mean she was an awful singer, it just meant she was silly.  She then asked, "Well, then how can I sing awful?" All of that to say, maybe Marianna just hasn't found her nitch in the world of song.  Maybe she, like Tim Hawkins, will pursue a career in singing comedy.  

Speaking of Tim Hawkins, a couple of days ago I tried to post a video that Nathan and I found one night when we ended up on Tim Hawkins' website, perusing through his other paradies, but I wasn't successful. I'll just throw it out there that I was attempting to do so from a computer other than my own, with the one significant detail being it was not a Mac.  You can put two and two together. Either there are some issues with non-Mac computers or there are some issues with me =).  You decide.  

But back to the video, when we were going through all of his stuff, one video in particular was over the top silly and ridiculous, and since every once in a while I like something over the top, silly, and ridiculous, here is attempt number two. So if you find a minute or two, sit back and enjoy Tim Hawkins' version of the Carrie Underwood hit, Jesus,Take the Wheel.