(From the Chronicles of the Twelve Gates of Twenty-Six)
Dear 2026,
January was right! February did come to escort me from the House of Judah to Issachar’s home.
The journey was almost an exasperating one; February was far too quiet for a tour guide – a trait I no longer fault him for. I had already begun regretting the trip, not to mention the fact that I deeply missed the House of Judah. February’s silence only served to punctuate my loneliness. After spending so much time in the hustle and bustle of Judah, this felt like a free fall into nothingness.
Just as I was about to call it quits, we reached these golden wheat fields. They were connected to lush vineyards, so beautiful they held the semblance of an organized orchard. It was the very definition of functional beauty.
For the first time since our formal introductions, February spoke. As he did, he beamed with a ravishing smile that seemed to brighten his every feature. “Welcome to Issachar’s home,” he said. The people we encountered in the fields and vineyards gave us nothing more than welcoming smiles and joyful waves – no hollers or screams – yet I felt profoundly welcomed. No wonder February is so quiet.
We kept walking until we reached the buildings. The surprise I felt planted my feet to the ground. Stone! The entire estate was built of stone. The buildings looked incredibly sturdy, featuring extremely wide porches where the people would gather every evening. Each square we passed was furnished with a large clock; I would soon learn of their obsession with time, for everything here works like clockwork.
When we finally reached the residential area, only the homemakers and the winery workers were present. They welcomed me quietly yet pleasantly, ensuring I had everything I needed (truly, it felt like they simply had everything, period).
I woke later to the smell of dinner and the loudest sound I had heard all day: people were talking – actually conversing. I joined them on the porch and received a great shock. They were joined by kings and men of substance; these men had arrived carrying burdens and left carrying solutions. They referred to the members of Issachar’s home as “men with understanding of the times.” Rightly so, for these men discussed astronomy, government, and even theology with absolute certainty. They debunked lies because they understood the “spirit of the age.”
These are the men sought out when instruction is needed for economic progress, societal reform, and the growth of the church. They partner with those from Zebulun’s courtyard to provide tutelage in the ways of the Lord. They are intercessors who pray over any and every matter. Never before have I witnessed such strength hidden in silence. This is a home of quiet giants.
This has been an experience of increasing enlightenment. I have learned so much in this home. I know now that volume does not always translate to clarity of speech or efficiency of communication.
February says I am not going far from here. He tells me the next guide will take me to Zebulun’s courtyard, which makes me exceedingly glad. Don’t tell February I said this, but I’ll miss him most of all – I’ll miss his quiet strength and the many lessons he taught without uttering a word.
You can tell I’ve written much more than I did in my last letter, well, this house would do that to you. I’m enjoying the journey, 2026, and I’m excited for the rest of it. Expect my correspondence soon.
