She wasn’t our first placement call. She was our second. The first was for a newborn boy. African-American. With five siblings already in foster care. The case had a low prognosis, which meant adoption was a high possibility. The call was everything everyone knew I ever wanted. But, in faith, I turned the placement down. God had already given me a dream showing me who would be coming into our home. Her.
In my dream, I had twins that were joined at the head. The first was my Braveheart. We called her by name. I didn’t know who the second girl was. She was nothing but a smile. Her face was distorted and she was missing a body. Then I watched God heal her. She grew to about the same size as Braveheart. And I got to hold her. Just her. I called her Julie, but was aware that was not her name. There was such intense joy, gratitude, and settledness. Along with a huge feeling of fulfillment, like I had waited my life for her.
Jubilee’s call came 11 days after that dream. As soon as I heard “girl, age 5 months”, I knew it was her. She was just 22 days older than Braveheart. I didn’t register any other details of her case. Details that definitely would have kept me from taking her placement. As soon as she arrived, one look confirmed it was her. Her face was different and I was deeply smitten. At her first examination, her doctor suspected she had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome because of facial abnormalities and severe developmental delays. I remember the day when her doctor proclaimed her face had literally transformed. She has medical notes documenting her healing. By the time her FAS genetic appointment came, they didn’t even do the testing after her examination. Only Jesus!!! My dream had manifested in so many miraculous ways.
Still, I wondered if there was more. I revisited that dream time and time and time again over the past 17 months. Some would say I should have known we would adopt Jubilee, from the beginning. But I didn’t. It wasn’t just the odds stacked against us. I’ve learned, the hard way, how to separate His direct word from my interpretation of it. I only see in part. Sometimes that’s enough to understand Him. And sometimes it’s not. Like that time I assumed my daughter was a son because God had only spoken to me about a son with 7 years of prophetic words. That taught me that my interpretation of God-given words can be wrong. Really wrong. I actually had to grieve my promised son on the day of Birdsong’s ultrasound, which felt really wrong. So I have guarded my heart in this foster process. Not just publicly. Privately too. I truly set my attention and efforts on Jubilee’s reunification. When that wasn’t a possibility, I advocated for her permanency. Even though that meant moving her to a tribal home. It wasn’t until the day God spoke to me that she was mine (just 8 weeks ago) that I realized God declared she would be Braveheart’s twin for a lifetime, not just a season.
Today I am reveling in how God continues to fulfill my dream. My twins share no DNA. They have different skin. Different eyes. Different hair. Different builds. Different everything. But when they stand next to one another, you see twins. They share a 3T wardrobe. What are the chances they would chart like that? Just put any random 21 and 22 month old next to each other and see if you can say the same.
God created them as twins, even while knitting them together in different wombs. Marvel with me, at that. What a gift to have a future twogether to discover all that means. I am the mama of twins.