5 Things God Showed Me in Tokyo I Didn’t Know I Needed
Last year, I went to Japan with my family, a trip I had been looking forward to for a long time. My brother, who absolutely loves Japan and speaks the language, brought us around. Seeing the country through his eyes made it feel extra special. From the quiet mornings in our little Airbnb in Asakusa to the late-night suppers and chats, it was one of those rare trips that filled my heart more than I expected.
I didn’t go searching for God in Tokyo. But He found me anyway. Gently, unexpectedly, and right in the middle of our family holiday.
Here are five unexpected ways God showed up in Tokyo.
1. Sometimes the missed moments are the ones that bring you closer.
We had this big plan to celebrate New Year’s Eve at Senso-ji Shrine - a moment I imagined would be magical. The shrine lit up, the crowd buzzing with excitement, the traditional bells ringing in the new year. But life had other plans. After a long day exploring, we came back to our Airbnb for dinner, then decided to take a “short nap.” Somehow, that nap turned into a full sleep, and before we knew it, we completely missed the countdown.
At first, I felt a little disappointed. I wondered if we’d blown our chance for something special; after all, New Year’s at Senso-ji seemed like the perfect way to start fresh, a symbolic moment to lean into God’s promises for the year ahead. But the next morning, something beautiful happened. We woke early to catch the first sunrise of the year at Sumida River alongside many Japanese locals. There was a quiet reverence as the sun slowly rose, painting the sky with soft colors. It was a new beginning too, just quieter, slower, less crowded, but somehow even more intimate.
That experience taught me that sometimes, missing the moment we expect can lead us into a better one - one where God meets us quietly and deeply, without fanfare. It reminded me that God’s timing is not always our timing. He often invites us to slow down, to rest, and to trust that even when things don’t go according to plan, He’s still working all things for our good.
Missing the countdown at Senso-ji didn’t mean missing God’s blessing. Instead, it became a gentle nudge to lean into grace, rest, and unexpected beauty. A lesson I’m still carrying with me beyond Tokyo.
2. God shows up in shared suppers and ordinary conversations.
One of the sweetest parts of the trip wasn’t visiting famous landmarks or ticking off sightseeing spots. It was the simple, quiet moments spent around the dinner table with my brother. Every night, after a long day of exploring Tokyo, we’d come back to our cozy Airbnb in Asakusa, dig into our maggi and juicy famichiki (fried chicken exclusive to FamilyMart), and just talk.
There was something deeply comforting about those conversations. We didn’t have to be profound or perfect. We talked about everything. Life, dreams, fears, funny things that happened during the day, even the little frustrations of travel. It wasn’t a structured devotional time or a planned moment of prayer. It was just two siblings connecting over supper, sharing pieces of their hearts in ordinary, unguarded ways.
I think God wanted to remind me through those nights that He’s not only in the big, spectacular spiritual experiences. He’s just as present in the everyday. In the laughter shared over noodles, the honest conversations in quiet spaces, the feeling of belonging that comes from being with people who know you.
Sometimes, we’re so busy chasing moments of spiritual “high” that we miss how God quietly shows up in the rhythm of daily life; in the simple act of presence, love, and conversation.
Those shared suppers became sacred to me. They were a soft but powerful reminder that God delights in our presence, not just our performance. He meets us best when we’re simply real.
3. Small traditions hold big meaning.
Staying in that cozy two-storey Airbnb in Asakusa gave me a chance to slow down and notice the beauty in everyday rhythms. Each evening, after the buzz of exploring the city, my brother and I would come home, share supper, and talk about life. It wasn’t a big planned event or a perfect routine, just simple moments that quietly grounded us after busy days.
This reminded me of how much small traditions shape a culture and a heart. Japan is full of these gentle rituals. The way people bow when greeting, the care put into preparing food, the reverence shown at shrines like Meiji Jingu, and the importance of New Year celebrations. These customs aren’t flashy or loud, but they hold deep meaning, connecting people to each other, to their history, and to something greater.
God used these observations to teach me something powerful: faith doesn’t have to be dramatic or extraordinary to be real and life-giving. It’s often found in the small, steady things we do every day - a whispered prayer before a meal, a kind word shared with a stranger, a moment of gratitude before bed.
These small acts build a rhythm that nurtures our soul and keeps us connected to God. They create a quiet sanctuary within the chaos, a steady heartbeat of grace.
In a world that rushes toward the next big thing, Tokyo showed me the sacredness of slowing down and embracing small traditions. It’s in these simple, repeated moments that God’s presence often feels closest.
4. Beauty can overwhelm you into stillness.
Visiting TeamLab Planets was nothing like I expected. Walking barefoot through rooms filled with shifting lights, water, and mirrors felt like stepping into another world. Everywhere I looked, colors danced and moved, wrapping around you like a living dream. It was breathtaking! So much beauty, it made me pause in awe.
In one particular room, the soft glow of lights pulsed gently in sync with music, and for a moment, everyone around me stopped talking and just stood still, completely absorbed. There was no need to explain or analyse what we were seeing. We simply let ourselves be fully present, drinking in the beauty.
That experience reminded me of how God’s grace often works. It doesn’t always come with words or explanations. Sometimes, it simply overwhelms us. A quiet, overwhelming presence that makes us stop and be still. Beauty like that invites you to rest your mind and heart, to open yourself to something bigger without having to grasp it fully.
I realised that God’s presence can be felt through the awe of creation and art, even in places as modern and high-tech as an interactive light exhibit in Tokyo. It was a powerful reminder that sometimes, all we have to do is be still and receive. No need to perform, explain, or fix. Just be present and let grace wash over you.
5. God can still use missed encounters to remind you you're seen.
One of the most unexpected moments happened in Akihabara. While wandering the bright, busy streets, an old friend from my past spotted me. He called out, but I didn’t hear him. I was too caught up in the crowd, distracted by the flashing signs and the buzz of the city. Later, he messaged me on Instagram, telling me he saw me and tried to say hello.
At first, I felt a little sad we missed each other. But as I thought about it, I realized how comforting it was to know that even in a huge, foreign city, someone familiar saw me. It was like a quiet, unexpected reminder that I’m not invisible. That I’m noticed and remembered, even when I don’t realize it.
And that’s exactly how God works too. Sometimes we don’t hear His voice or notice His presence. We feel lost in the crowd, unseen, or unheard. But God is always there - watching, knowing, calling out gently. Even when we miss it, He’s still reaching out.
That missed encounter in Akihabara became a symbol for me of God’s faithfulness. He sees us. He knows us. Even when life feels overwhelming and noisy, His love never misses a beat.
Final Thoughts
I didn’t go to Tokyo expecting to meet God in such personal ways. I thought it would just be a fun family trip. Sightseeing, eating good food, spending time together. And it was all of that. But it was also more.
Somehow, in between the missed countdown and the morning sunrise, in crowded streets and quiet alleyways, in laughter over suppers and the soft glow of TeamLab lights - God was there. He didn’t need a church service or a mountain retreat to speak. He showed up through my brother’s quiet leadership, the kindness of strangers, the rhythms of a culture that values respect and intention.
He reminded me that He’s not just the God of “holy” places, but of ordinary ones too. Airbnbs, vending machines, subway stations, and even random missed encounters. He meets us wherever we are, however we are.
And more than anything, this trip reminded me of how present God is in the in-between. In the bits we don’t plan for. In the moments we almost overlook. Sometimes, He doesn’t shout. He just gently places beauty, grace, and reminders of His love right in front of us, and waits for us to notice.
FAQ
Q: What do Japanese people do on January 1st?
A: January 1st marks Shōgatsu, the Japanese New Year, which is one of the most important holidays in Japan. On this day, families gather to celebrate by visiting shrines or temples for hatsumōde (the first shrine visit of the year) to pray for good fortune and health. They enjoy special traditional foods called osechi ryōri, share mochi (rice cakes), and often send New Year’s cards (nengajō). The day is filled with customs that emphasize fresh beginnings, gratitude, and hopes for the year ahead.
Q: Why do I feel like I’m far away from God?
A: Feeling far from God can happen even when you’re doing “all the right things”, and especially when you’re not. Sometimes it’s because life gets noisy or overwhelming, and your usual ways of connecting with God (like prayer, journaling, or church) feel out of reach. Other times, it’s because you're going through something hard and He feels silent.
But distance doesn’t mean abandonment. God hasn’t moved away, our hearts just sometimes lose track of where He’s been all along. He’s still there, still near, still present in ways we might not see clearly in the moment. And the beautiful truth is that He’s not waiting for you to feel a certain way to come close - He already is.
Q: How can I hear what God is telling me?
A: Hearing from God doesn’t always look or feel dramatic. In fact, it’s usually quiet, subtle, and deeply personal. He speaks through His Word, through people, through circumstances, and even through moments we don’t immediately recognise as “spiritual”. Like a conversation with someone, a delayed plan, or a sense of peace we can’t explain.
The key is learning to slow down and pay attention. It helps to spend time in Scripture (because His voice never contradicts His Word), to create space for silence, and to be honest with God in prayer. He’s not trying to hide. Sometimes we just need to quiet the noise, both around us and inside us, to hear what He’s been saying all along.
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