What are your top 10 travel destinations?
I believe responses to this question vary widely—because “destination” means different things to different people. For some, the answer is 10 countries; for others, 10 places within one nation; and for many, simply 10 ways of life.
I am grateful to have travelled to many countries—some as many as 10 times—and each had something special to offer. Scenery typically ranks high on travel lists, followed by food, shopping, history and culture, and finally, the people. Yet for many travelers, cost is the deciding factor. A trip from Asia to Switzerland, for instance, would be worth three or more trips to nearby countries.
But for me, a deeper question lingers: Do people live happily in their own land? When I travel, I read local newspapers to understand what businesses thrive, what daily life looks like, and whether crime is a serious concern—because crime rates often reflect living conditions and hidden social tensions.
If I were to travel again today, I would choose Israel—not as one country among ten, but as one country with ten sacred places, each marked by the footsteps of Jesus Christ.
I visited nine years ago, but I didn’t linger long enough by the Sea of Galilee, nor taste enough of her figs and dates—that land of milk and honey—nor enjoy fellowship long enough with my brothers and sisters in Christ. What truly drew me closer to Jesus, though, was kneeling by Galilee’s shore, meditating on His words to the Jews. In that moment, I felt at home—for where He is, there the heart remains.
And in that spirit, I offer this poem. May the lines below illuminate the destination that lies closest to your heart.
—
✨Home Is Where the Heart Is✨
When Babel’s tribes scattered wide,
Seven seas and five shores became their tide—
Nations rose, tongues split apart,
Yet Babel’s pride still thrummed in the heart.
Most clans cling to roof and wall,
Fear the shift, the rise, the fall—
But Yahweh’s tribe seeks its root,
Plucks the needle from the sea—no task too astute.
Through ages, across oceans they steer,
Their footprints stitched on every sphere.
They leave the promised land behind—
Not for strange charms, but hearths to find.
No Babel-ground they crave to own—
Where the heart stays, the house is grown.
But in the end, this truth is plain:
Where home is—there the heart remains.
—
en yan hua fang 