(From the Chronicles of the Twelve Gates of Twenty-Six)
Dear 2026,
I had already expressed my excitement about going to Zebulun’s Courtyard in my last letter. I am still as thrilled as I was then – even more so now.
A little lady named March showed up at Issachar’s Home. She looked perfectly sun-kissed, wearing a simple sundress in a color that exuded royalty. I met her on the porch, and she said in the most spirited voice I’ve heard in a while, “I’m March, your guide to Zebulun’s Courtyard!”
I won’t say I wasn’t surprised, because I was, but I was also deeply intrigued. I had never seen her with the team from Zebulun before. I gathered my things – produce from the wheat fields and vineyards of Issachar – and quickly followed after her.
It wasn’t a long journey – or perhaps it was, and I simply didn’t notice because I was so astounded by March’s proficiency with language. She greeted at least eight people in their own native tongues on the way here. I initially thought it was a specific talent, but I soon realized it was a learned culture.
We reached Zebulun’s Courtyard and, my goodness, I don’t know why they call it a “courtyard,” for this place is a masterpiece of engineering where solid earth meets the tides – much like a lighthouse pier. It looked as though the architects, instead of building to resist the water, had built the structure to dance with it.
I saw iridescent limestone reinforced with cedarwood and bronze; the architect is surely a genius. They have open-air pavilions in the similitude of Issachar’s porches, yet they feel very different. Though I supposed they served the same function as those in Issachar, I was right! They have boardwalks instead of walkways because of the water flowing through the house. There are no doors – just silk curtains that frequently catch the salt breeze.
At the center of the house is a well they call the “Navigation Well.” It is a befitting name, as people sit there to meditate or draft maps; it is the most serene part of the estate.
The people, like March, are beautifully sun-kissed from the time they spend in the elements. They are incredibly active and wear practical but rich clothing dyed in Tekhelet – a color I found to be a sacred blue-purple.
They work alongside the secluded House of Issachar to train men in the ways of the Lord. Their mastery of many languages is a necessity for their work, as they trade with everyone. These people take complex truths and simplify them for the unlearned without ever tampering with their authenticity. This must be a divine gift; no wonder they are called “The Middlemen of the Divine.”
2026, I’m starting to think you’ve sent me on a steep learning curve. I have once again learned so much here. I have learned that nothing stays the same – whether solid earth or tidal sea – and that is exactly where profit, both spiritual and physical, is found.
I have learned that prosperity is a form of worship; the person who sails the ship is as important as the person who prays in the temple, and one person can certainly do both. I have learned to look farther than what meets the eye, asking “What’s next?” while remaining conscious enough to live in the moment.
Their motto here is: “We do not control the wind, but we are masters of the sail.” Powerful words to live by, if you ask me.
Being a part of this home has me excited for the next destination. I am eager to apply the lessons I’ve gathered. So yes, 2026, I am ready for the next guide! You might want to prepare yourself for my next correspondence, because I’m certain I’ll be coming with a bang!
