Lord Please Meet 01When I finished the introduction and first chapter of Lord, Meet Me in the Laundry Room, I cried. Now, I’m not a regular crier, and even my advanced maternal state has me making “to do” lists, not wallowing in my hormone laden idiosyncrasies. Still, Barbara Curtis’ book resonated with me as no other mothering manuscript before.

The language wasn’t flowery; her thoughts were not new. Perhaps it is because she is a mother of twelve, and I could tell that every feeling and thought I’d ever nursed, she had already nursed before. Perhaps it was that I enjoyed reading more from a woman I had grown to know only online. Perhaps it was when she said this:

This book is about spending some time together sorting through the things that get in the way of finding joy in motherhood. It’s about getting real about the past and mistakes we’ve made, the limitations of our lifestyle as mothers, the competitive spirit that robs us of intimacy with other mothers, and the lack of affirmation that sometimes makes us want to cry.

This is a book about seizing each day, squeezing every bit of joy from every peanut-butter-and-jelly-smeared moment, finding God in the hum of a washing machine or an unexpected bargain. (page 9)

From the title, you might infer that the book is a “how-to” meet God in your everyday life as a mom. But it’s much more than that. Barbara (it seems more right to call her “Barbara” than the more formal “Curtis” when writing) begins her book by connecting with the reader. She doesn’t do this by saying, “Hey, I’ve got all these kids. Whatever story you’ve got, I can top.” Instead, Barbara weaves a story of her own misjudgments and creative mishaps with the old story of God’s faithfulness.

Then from the backseat I heard Zachary clear his throat and in his deadpan four-year-old Eeyore voice ask, “Mom, when are you going to get a job?”

“This is my job,” I said, maybe just a little edgy.

But homeward bound, as the kids fell asleep one by one and I was left alone with my thoughts, I began to see the beauty of Zach’s question: somehow—even though it could be hard work and even though I had my testy moments—my kids didn’t think of motherhood as a job.

And I decided that was a good thing—because it’s not really a job at all, but a calling… (page 98)

Today’s mothers are tired, due to nurturing the distractions that compete for our attention and affections. Reading this book was like a cup of cocoa on a cold day: Barbara’s warm candor and not-so-perfect stories were a treat to me, a mother in the trenches. Lord, Please Meet Me in the Laundry Room is a story of deliverance, Barbara’s own, as well as the one waiting for us younger mothers who have the willingness to learn some wisdom from those who’ve gone before.