If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
The “if” to me is already a fact—I live in my birthplace, the land that welcomed me into the world, and nowhere else.
To be honest, I hold citizenship in another country with living conditions far more appealing than my homeland’s. Yet I listen to my heart—and pay tribute to the soil where I was born and raised, where I have served with pride, and where I hope to serve until I go to the grave.
But if the prompt asks: If you were forced to leave your homeland, where would you go? — I would choose Israel. That land God chose from among all twelve tribes to place His Name for His dwelling (Deuteronomy 12:5).
I would go there, not to be closer to the Temple of worship, but to gain a deeper understanding of the land where Jesus was born, raised, and died. He spent three years preaching the kingdom of God and calling people to repentance. I long to walk that soil—the birthplace of the Son of Man, the ground where the seed of the Gospel was sown and the harvest of salvation was reaped. Jesus’ loyalty and commitment to the people of His homeland were overwhelmingly evident, and I have learned His teaching by heart.
True, God placed His Name in Israel for His dwelling—yet true worship springs from the heart, where His people worship “in spirit and in truth” (John 4:23). And wherever we live, “the kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17:21).
The soil of my birthplace—I love it. The Lord Jesus Christ—I love Him. And the people of my race—I love to serve them. So I will stand firm until that day when the new heaven and the new earth come—where the righteous dwell with God forever.
The prompt may invite you to imagine leaving where you are. But my poem tells the true story of a woman who left her hometown seeking a better life in the city, only to return broken—with nothing but gratitude for the soil of her homeland. May her story enlighten you as you find your own path.
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✨Summons of Seven✨
Celestial maid of mortal clay,
From what far world have you made your way?
No gentle birth—your dawn of years
Was steeped in loss, in salt and tears;
Your mother gone, your father fled,
Each drop of childhood bitter-bred.
You fled the fields to sink in mire,
Returned to find your village pyre—
Yet hardship honed your spirit keen,
Though poor, your will remained serene.
You kissed the earth, you breathed the air,
And found a clear mind rooted there;
For all your life from soil you came,
And to the soil you’ll go the same.
Sown in the ground, reaped in the sky—
So runs a mortal lifetime by.
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It is God’s word that guides my paths.
Proverbs 3:5–6
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”
en yan hua fang 