In the quiet countryside of Saitama Prefecture, something remarkable happens every September. Along the banks of the Koma River, thousands of red spider lilies, or manjushage, burst into bloom. Their brilliant crimson petals stretch like a sea of fire across the fields during the Kinchakuda Manjushage Festival, drawing visitors from all over Japan.

For the locals, these delicate flowers mark the changing of seasons and symbolise both farewell and renewal. In Buddhist tradition, the manjushage is often associated with the afterlife. It is said that they bloom along the path to heaven, guiding souls onward. In their stunning display of red and green, there’s something profoundly hopeful—a picture of God’s handiwork speaking even in silence.

When I visited Japan, I did not get to see the red spider lilies in bloom, but I did hear people speak of them, with reverence, beauty and reflection. It reminded me of how much God loves beauty and how He plants signs of His presence everywhere, even among people who may not yet know Him.

Just as these lilies bloom quietly, unnoticed at first, so does the gospel in Japan. Slowly, season by season, soul by soul, something is stirring. The soil has been hard; the growth has been slow. But every flower begins as a seed, and every harvest begins with planting.

I continue to prepare to travel to Japan to sow seeds of hope in a land rich in beauty, tradition and spiritual need. I believe God is already at work, and I long to join Him in what He is growing.

Would you consider becoming a monthly donor? Your support will help me plant, water and wait patiently for the bloom. Japan is ready. The harvest will come.

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