Sometimes I write to encourage, other times I write to record. And this one? Well, it’s simply to record; because I don’t know about you, but as the years go by, I often forget the details held within a story. This is why I wrote about my friend’s sweet dream and the time a man chased me down in Walmart. I knew their exact words and phrases, as well as my emotions would one day be lost on me. Much like the ones held within this story that I am about to share. However, I can’t help but think that while this is being written to simply record, one day, if all is true, it might also be used to encourage. Only time will tell. But first, allow me to tell you the story…
You see, every Thursday night my friends and I gather around a piano after stuffing our faces full of pizza, tacos, or fried chicken, and we sing. We lift our hands in worship, share scripture the Lord places on our hearts, or simply close our eyes and sit in silence. Once it becomes late, we then gather together in a tighter circle and pray for one another. It’s a sweet time in which I have witnessed anxieties lifted, bodies restored, and relationships redeemed. True miracles.
In fact, my own body was healed after I courageously spoke up with a need of my own. I say courageously because it took courage. I hadn’t had a menstrual cycle in five months and to talk about that….and then have people pray for that…well, like I said, it took courage. But it was with their authority spoken and their hands placed on my womb I was healed.
There wasn’t a Thursday night in which I didn’t go home and my cup wasn’t overflowing. There is just something about being surrounded by a faith-filled community that sparks hope, which then ignites a flame of faith that burns within. However, on one particular Thursday night, I didn’t go home with just a heart full of hope. I went home with questions.
Occasionally, while standing in our tight circle encompassing each other with words of prayer, we would also share words of encouragement or visions and prophesies. And on this particular night, my good friend who is always spot on with everyone else, looked at me; and with hands shaking and a voice trembling, he said “twins…I see twins.” I’m not exactly sure what he shared afterwards because my heart skipped and the processing receptors in my brain stopped.
How could this body, which is barren, produce twins?
I went home and did what I typically do with visions and prophesy’s that are spoken over me…I hold them loosely within my heart. Because humans are just that…humans. And we sometimes get mixed signals from God; we don’t always hear or see correctly. Perhaps you have been someone who has thought God spoke to you one thing, yet something different took place. Or someone once prophesied over you and it turned out to be false. It happens. This is why I don’t keep a tight grip on them. However, while lying in bed a few short nights later, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept replaying that moment, and how after years of struggling publicly with infertility I have received lots of encouraging words; however, none included the vision of twins. Wondering how this could come to pass, I realized that my husband and I have never pinned down a middle name for the one little guy whom we hope will one day exist. He is the one I believe God spoke to my heart seven years ago. The one whom He promised and even told me to name Josiah, which I learned meant Jehovah healed. But in the seven years since holding this vision…this prophesy…this promise secure…we haven’t picked a middle name. Don’t get me wrong, over the course of time we have discussed them, but never settling on one.
Daniel (my husband’s name) and Thomas (his grandpa’s name) have been in the top two.
To be honest, I have never been fond of using the name Daniel. I like it, but for some reason, Thomas has always been the one etched into my heart. Therefore, as I lay awake, thinking of the name Thomas, I began to wonder the meaning behind it. I knew the meaning of Daniel: God is my judge; but what about this other name that I couldn’t’ seem to let go of? The one I kept going back to. What does it mean? Not knowing, I did what anyone would do. I Googled it.
The meaning of the name Thomas means “twin.” It’s crazy for me to think that after all of these years of discussing the name Thomas I never looked up the meaning. Or maybe I did, but at the time it meant nothing. Needless to say, today, it means something; and I am holding this vision and prophesy a little tighter in my heart. And hopefully our little Josiah Thomas will have a twin. Perhaps a twin sister. Or twin brother. Or no twin at all. Again, we are human and the wires of communication between us and heaven can get crossed. But something tells me there was a clear signal that night while standing together in our inner circle. And as I mentioned before, it is here in the the wait that only time will be able to tell.
Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you. Zech. 9:12
You can learn more about our infertility journey, as well as the story behind our promise of a son (Josiah) here.
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