Which fictional world would be the most fun to vacation in?
Life in the real world bites. But life in a fictional world could bite harder—if you could never return.
From the highest echelon of creatures—humans, the so-called kings of animals—down to the lowliest insects, every being has its enemy, whether of its own kind or beyond. Is there truly any place, real or imagined, where all creatures coexist in peace?
If one expects to find paradise on earth, one will not—unless one creates it. That is, to envision reality as if one already lived in a fictional world.
When I began my retirement, I moved to a quiet, hilly area. My apartment faced a grassy slope just beyond the window, and I felt as though I lived in a tree hollow. This was unintentional at first, but later I understood why I was there. Inside, I barely heard human noise—only birdsong and the whisper of wind through leaves were my daily companions. I felt I was living in a fictional world, nestled in one of the busiest cities on earth.
Yet I had not fully fallen into that “paradise” until a barking deer came to comfort me in my sadness. She appeared from the slope, gazing at me cautiously. I froze, gazing back so as not to startle her. That motionless moment lasted perhaps ten seconds. Then she lifted her legs and wandered across the grassland. I moved closer to the window for a clearer view—but soon she disappeared from sight. Strangely, when she left, she took my sadness with her.
As I sank into deeper meditation, I heard the Father say: “Be still. You are always under My watch.”
I never saw that barking deer again, nor any other deer in my backyard. Yet the impression she left still lingers: purity, beauty, comfort, relief, joy—none of these can be truly real or accessible in any fictional world without nature as its backdrop. It is nature that touches the heart, truth that clears the eyes—not novelty.
About eight years ago, I left my tree hollow and moved to another relatively quiet, beautiful place. Birds still sing. Cicadas still dwell in the nearby trees. My vision is now limitless with nature—especially when I envision what the new heaven and new earth I long for might look like. I hope to live with all creatures in peace, shedding no more tears from hurt or pain.
Scripture gives believers hope for the best place to dwell—and to vacation:
“The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them… They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”
— Isaiah 11:6–9
Reflecting on that hope, I wrote this poem as an encouragement to myself—and hopefully, to you as well.
—
✨ Dreamland, or No Dream ✨
All things God made, each in its time, and fair.
The bruised reed He will not break;
The smoldering wick He will not quench.
But in this hour—who can uphold this fragile frame?
And who can still this restless, wandering soul?
Then suddenly a voice fell down to me:
In Christ, you hold a hope that cannot die.
In days of suffering and years of distress, you shall still rejoice.
Faith, hope, and love can buy eternal peace,
Till the day He brings His justice forth—and makes it triumph.
In the new heavens and new earth He promised, we shall meet:
That day, that hour—the barking deer shall stroll with me on grassy plains;
The lion shall frolic with the zebra;
The wolf shall dwell beside the lamb.
Oh! This is not a world of dreams—
This is paradise, where pain and guilt are no more.
—✨
en yan hua fang 