A Life Blossomed Through Seven Years of Text Messages

Eight years ago, I met a Korean-Japanese young adult during a united short-term mission trip to Hiroshima. After returning to Osaka, I stayed in touch with her—sending text messages whenever I saw beautiful scenery or when there was a Bible webinar. Every year during the holidays, I also sent her warm greetings.

Last winter, we arranged to meet again in Hiroshima. Just before the trip, I received some surprising and joyful news: a deaconess who had participated in that same short-term mission years ago had recently moved to the Hiroshima Zion. It felt like Heavenly Father and Mother had already paved the way for this young adult to be led to salvation.

On the day of our meeting, I worried for a moment—“What if we’ve forgotten each other’s faces after seven years?” But the worry quickly faded. We recognized each other from afar and were genuinely happy to reunite. Over lunch, we had so much to catch up on. In the middle of our conversation, I remembered the deaconess who was now in Hiroshima Zion and suggested that we visit her. She hesitated, unsure if she should go. I reassured her, saying that I, too, hadn’t seen the deaconess since that mission and that I’d be thankful to have her company.

When the three of us reunited at Zion for the first time in seven years, it was a deeply moving moment—something words couldn’t fully capture. As we caught up and reminisced, the conversation naturally shifted to the Bible. But she firmly said that she couldn’t believe in the Bible or in God without experiencing something for herself.

Although her response was unexpected, I was determined to help her understand that the Bible is trustworthy and that God truly exists. With the help of our overseer, we continued to share the truth with her. After some time, just as I was beginning to wonder if we should stop for the day, her expression turned serious. As she began to understand the truth, I realized she must have been treasuring the words of God in her heart all this time. It was clear to me—she had always been one of our heavenly family, and I couldn’t give up on her.

All the members at Hiroshima Zion joined together in heart to encourage her to receive the blessing of salvation from God. Despite the long hours of studying, she showed no signs of fatigue and joyfully accepted the truth. I couldn’t help but give thanks to Heavenly Father and Mother for leading her to the path of salvation.

I had visited Hiroshima several times for mission work and found members back then. But without a local Zion, it had been difficult for new members to maintain their faith. Now, with Zion newly established in Hiroshima and the deaconess—someone already familiar to her—assigned there, I believe it was all perfectly timed and planned by God, who knows better than anyone what each soul needs to continue a life of faith.

All I had done was send consistent text messages. For seven years, it was God who opened her heart and cared for her soul. On the train ride back to Osaka, even though I arrived home later than expected, I felt deeply happy because I knew our Heavenly Mother was with me. It felt like I was already in heaven. Just as God never lets go of our hands and continually blesses us, I, too, will keep looking back to see if there are any forgotten souls and diligently share God’s love.