Joel Osteen and Saito Hitori: Twin Souls of Positivity

Introduction by Joel Osteen 

I believe that God has a way of connecting us with people we never expected, to show us that His truth is bigger than borders, cultures, or even religions. When I came to Japan, I thought I was here to rest and enjoy the cherry blossoms. But God had another plan.

I met a man named Saito Hitori—a teacher, a businessman, a voice of encouragement to millions in Japan. At first glance, we seemed so different. I’m a pastor from Texas, he’s a self-help mentor from Tokyo. But as we sat together under the lantern light, sipping tea and watching the blossoms fall, I realized something remarkable: we were speaking the same language of the heart.

We talked about the power of words, the miracle of gratitude, the duty of joy, the blessing of prosperity, and the closeness of God. And with every topic, I kept thinking, God, You’ve brought us together to remind the world that Your light shines everywhere. Whether we call it faith, joy, or gratitude, we’re talking about the same Spirit that lifts us all.

(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event)

Topic 1: The Power of Words

The café was tucked away on a quiet Tokyo side street, shaded by cherry blossoms just beginning to scatter their petals in the spring breeze. Joel Osteen leaned back in his chair, marveling at how peaceful it felt. “You know,” he said with a smile, “back home in Houston, I tell people all the time: your words set the direction of your life. If you speak defeat, you’ll live in defeat. If you speak victory, you’ll walk in victory.”

Across from him, Saito Hitori’s eyes lit up as though Joel had just spoken one of his favorite truths. He leaned forward with an energy that seemed almost childlike. “Ahh, Joel-san, that’s exactly what I teach too! In Japan we call it kotodama—the spirit of words. Every word you say has life. If you keep saying ‘I’m unlucky, I’m tired, I’m poor,’ then that spirit shapes your world. But if you say ‘I’m lucky, I’m grateful, I’m healthy,’ then heaven itself bends toward you.”

Joel chuckled warmly. “So you’re telling me that all the way here in Japan, you’re preaching the same message we do back in Texas?”

Hitori laughed, his voice ringing out like a bell. “Yes! People think I’m just joking when I tell them to say ‘arigato’—thank you—over and over. But when you do, your life changes. Words are not just sounds. They are God’s tools.”

The two men paused, smiling at one another, surprised by the resonance of their teachings. It felt uncanny—like looking into a mirror that reflected across cultures.

Joel leaned forward, remembering a story. “There was a woman in our church who battled depression for years. Doctors, medicine, nothing seemed to lift her. Then I told her to start declaring every morning, ‘I am strong, I am loved, I am healthy.’ She didn’t feel it at first, but she kept speaking it. Six months later, her whole countenance changed. She was radiant, joyful, completely transformed.”

Hitori’s face brightened as he raised his hand as if to say, me too. “I know that! I once met a shopkeeper drowning in debt. Every day, he said things like, ‘I can’t make it. My life is finished.’ I told him, ‘Say arigato one thousand times a day. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’ He thought it was foolish, but he tried. Soon, customers began returning. Opportunities came. His business revived. Why? Because he changed the words, and the words changed his world.”

Joel smiled in wonder. “That’s amazing. And you know, people sometimes criticize me for making things sound too simple. They want theology, doctrine, heavy words. But I believe God’s truth is meant to be practical and accessible. You don’t need a PhD in theology to say, ‘I’m blessed.’ You just need faith.”

Hitori nodded firmly. “Yes, yes. People think spiritual truth must be complicated. But why should God make it difficult? The divine made words free and easy to use. No matter if you’re rich or poor, educated or not, you can say, ‘Thank you.’ You can say, ‘I’m happy.’ That’s why words are the greatest gift.”

For a moment they both grew quiet, letting the wind carry the scent of blossoms across their table. It was as though nature itself agreed with them—gentle reminders that life responds to the words we speak.

Joel broke the silence with a thoughtful tone. “You know, Hitori-san, in Proverbs it says, ‘Death and life are in the power of the tongue.’ I’ve preached that verse countless times, but hearing you describe kotodama makes me realize how universal this truth is. God planted it into every culture.”

Hitori’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Yes! That’s the proof that God is one. Different languages, different traditions, but the same truth. Words carry life, or they carry death. Choose life-giving words, and you are already walking with God.”

Joel clapped his hands softly in agreement. “Amen to that.”

They both laughed then, almost like two boys discovering a secret clubhouse. What amazed them wasn’t just the similarity of their teachings, but the way they had arrived at them from opposite ends of the earth. Joel through the Bible and the pulpit, Hitori through everyday wisdom and business. And yet, both paths led to the same fountain: the creative power of words.

Joel lifted his teacup, raising it as though in a toast. “So, we agree—words create worlds.”

Hitori lifted his cup as well, a mischievous grin on his face. “Yes. And may our words today create a world where people everywhere remember this truth.”

Their cups clinked gently, the sound mingling with the laughter of children in the park nearby. In that moment, Joel Osteen and Saito Hitori realized they weren’t just exchanging ideas. They were discovering a bond—two men, oceans apart, yet speaking the same language of the soul.

And as the first topic of their conversation came to a close, both knew that what united them was greater than what divided them. On opposite sides of the world, they had been carrying the same torch: the conviction that words, simple and spoken with faith, could light the path to joy, healing, and abundance.

Topic 2: Gratitude as the Key to Blessings

The sun dipped lower, painting Tokyo’s skyline in warm orange and pink. The lanterns in the garden café flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the wooden tables. Joel Osteen took another sip of the fragrant sakura tea, his eyes reflecting the blossoms drifting like snow across the path.

“You know, Hitori-san,” Joel began, his voice gentle, “I often tell people not to wait until the blessing arrives to be grateful. Gratitude is faith in advance. When you thank God before the miracle comes, you’re showing trust that He’s already working on your behalf.”

Saito Hitori’s face lit up with recognition. He leaned forward, hands folded in delight. “Yes, yes! Gratitude is the strongest key to happiness. In Japan, I tell people: arigato—thankful—is like turning on the light in a dark room. Even if nothing changes yet, when you say ‘thank you,’ you invite light into your heart. And when light enters, God prepares more light for you.”

Joel nodded. “That’s beautiful. Back home, I knew a man who lost his job. He was worried, stressed, but every morning he still got up and said, ‘Thank You, Lord, for providing for me. Thank You for new opportunities.’ People thought he was foolish, even delusional. But within months, he was offered a better job than he ever dreamed of. Gratitude opened the door.”

Hitori chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling. “I had a similar story. In the 1990s, when Japan’s economy was down, I kept saying every morning: ‘Arigato for my health, arigato for my friends, arigato for today.’ People told me I was naïve, that I wasn’t facing reality. But while others were sinking in despair, doors opened for me that I could not have imagined. Gratitude is not ignoring reality—it’s changing reality.”

Joel tapped the table thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the secret. Gratitude doesn’t just describe your situation; it shapes it. It’s like saying, ‘God, I trust You enough to thank You before the answer comes.’ That kind of faith moves mountains.”

Hitori’s expression softened as he shared another story. “There was a woman I knew, very ill and very poor. She thought her life was over. I told her, ‘Say thank you for the little things. Thank you for the sun, thank you for the air, thank you for your breath.’ She began slowly, almost bitterly. But she kept at it. Months later, she told me her health was improving, and somehow her finances improved too. Gratitude transformed her heart, and when the heart changes, life follows.”

Joel smiled, remembering his own experiences. “At Lakewood Church, I encourage people to keep a gratitude journal. Write down three things you’re thankful for every day. It shifts your perspective. You stop focusing on what you lack and start noticing what God has already done. That attitude draws more blessings.”

Hitori clapped his hands in agreement. “Yes! Gratitude is like a magnet. When you’re thankful, you attract more reasons to be thankful. When you complain, you attract more reasons to complain. It’s not magic—it’s how the universe works. God smiles when you say thank you.”

The two men laughed together at how uncannily aligned their teachings were. Joel reflected aloud, “Sometimes I think gratitude is the universal language of heaven. You can say it in English, in Japanese, in Spanish—it doesn’t matter. Gratitude always rises straight to God’s ears.”

Hitori added with a playful glint in his eye, “And God doesn’t check your passport or your religion before He listens. Gratitude is beyond boundaries. It’s the purest prayer.”

The garden café had grown quieter as the evening deepened. A few couples strolled hand in hand beneath the lanterns, their murmurs blending with the rustle of the blossoms. Joel and Hitori sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both soaking in the peace.

Finally, Joel broke the stillness. “You know, I’ve met people who thought they needed to wait for big miracles before they could be grateful. But sometimes it’s the small things—waking up in the morning, sharing a meal with family, even just having breath in your lungs—that open the door to greater things.”

Hitori nodded, his voice almost a whisper. “Yes. Gratitude for the small opens the way for the big. People wait for the lottery, but God is already giving them the sunrise every morning. If you can’t say thank you for the sunrise, why would God trust you with the jackpot?”

Joel chuckled softly. “That’s so true. The Bible says, ‘He who is faithful in little will be faithful in much.’ Gratitude is the practice of faithfulness in little things.”

Hitori leaned back, smiling at the thought. “Gratitude is also freedom. When you say thank you, you stop being a prisoner of fear and complaints. Gratitude breaks chains.”

Joel’s voice grew warm, full of conviction. “Amen. Gratitude doesn’t just change what you see—it changes who you are. And when you change, your whole life changes.”

They both sat back, smiling knowingly, as if they had just uncovered the simplest treasure hidden in plain sight. Two men, from opposite worlds, had discovered the same golden key: gratitude, the practice that turns everyday life into a miracle.

As the lanterns glowed brighter and the city hummed softly in the distance, Joel and Hitori lifted their cups again, toasting quietly.

“To gratitude,” Joel said.

“To blessings,” Hitori added.

And in that moment, surrounded by blossoms and the quiet of the evening, they realized gratitude was not just a practice, but a bridge—a bridge that had carried them across cultures, languages, and continents, to meet in the same place of truth.

Topic 3: Joy as a Spiritual Duty

The café’s lanterns glowed brighter as the evening settled in, and the murmur of Tokyo streets formed a soft backdrop to their conversation. Joel Osteen leaned back, watching a group of schoolchildren run past the gate. Their laughter rang through the garden like little bells, so carefree and contagious that Joel couldn’t help but smile.

“You see those children?” he said, nodding toward them. “That’s what I tell people at Lakewood: God didn’t put us here just to endure life. He put us here to enjoy it. Joy isn’t optional—it’s essential.”

Saito Hitori clapped his hands in agreement, his face alive with delight. “Yes! Yes! People think being spiritual means being serious all the time. They wear long faces, thinking God wants them to suffer. But I tell them: No, no, no. God loves people who laugh. A smile is a prayer. Laughter is praise.”

Joel chuckled. “I love that. A smile is a prayer. That’s exactly right. At church, I sometimes tell people, ‘When the enemy comes to steal your peace, just smile. It confuses the darkness.’ Joy is one of the most powerful weapons we have.”

Hitori leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Do you know why I make so many jokes? It’s not just for fun. It’s because when people laugh, they are closest to God. In that moment, worries vanish. Fear disappears. Only light remains. That’s when God can slip blessings into their hearts.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “That’s true. I once met a woman battling cancer. Every day, instead of sinking into despair, she chose to laugh with her family. She watched funny movies, cracked jokes, and filled her home with joy. Her doctors couldn’t explain her turnaround, but I believe her joy was medicine for her soul and her body.”

Hitori raised a finger as if to say, me too. “Yes! In Osaka, I knew a group of elderly women who danced in the street every week. They were poor, they had aches and pains, but they laughed and sang. People said they were foolish, but those women lived longer and healthier than anyone expected. Joy is not just happiness—it’s medicine.”

Joel tapped the table gently. “That reminds me of Proverbs: ‘A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit dries up the bones.’ Thousands of years ago, scripture already knew what modern science is proving now—that joy heals.”

Hitori leaned back, laughing softly. “And yet, people resist joy. They say, ‘I’ll be happy when I get rich, when I get healthy, when I succeed.’ I tell them, ‘No, you must laugh first. Joy is not the reward—it’s the doorway.’ When you’re joyful now, even in hardship, God opens the gates to greater blessings.”

Joel’s eyes lit up. “That’s powerful. I often preach, ‘Don’t let circumstances dictate your joy. Let your joy dictate your circumstances.’ If you wait until everything is perfect, you’ll never smile. But if you choose joy in the valley, you’ll soon find yourself on the mountain.”

The café staff passed by with trays of steaming miso soup, and the aroma filled the air. Joel inhaled deeply, then smiled. “You know, even something simple like this—sharing a meal, watching blossoms fall—that’s a reason to be joyful. I think sometimes people miss God’s gifts because they’re waiting for something big, and they overlook the little joys.”

Hitori nodded firmly. “Yes. Joy is in the small things. People chase happiness like it’s far away, but God hides joy in the everyday. In a smile, in a flower, in a bowl of rice. When you notice it, life becomes rich.”

Joel leaned in, lowering his voice. “Sometimes I think joy is the most spiritual thing we can do. More than rituals, more than traditions. Because when you’re joyful, you’re saying, ‘God, I trust You. I believe in Your goodness even when I don’t see it.’ That’s faith in its purest form.”

Hitori clapped again, his laughter bubbling over. “Yes! Exactly. Joy is faith. Joy is courage. Joy is God’s language. If you can laugh even when you’re hurting, you’ve already won.”

Joel laughed too, shaking his head in amazement. “Hitori-san, you know, if joy is a spiritual duty, then you must be one of God’s generals.”

Hitori laughed so hard his shoulders shook, and even a few nearby diners turned to smile, caught up in the contagious sound. He wiped his eyes, still grinning. “And you, Joel-san, must be my twin soldier on the other side of the world.”

For a moment, the café seemed brighter, the lanterns warmer, the night air lighter. Joy wasn’t just a concept they were discussing—it was something they were living in that moment, flowing between them and spilling into the world around them.

As the laughter subsided, Joel raised his cup once more. “To joy,” he said.

“To God’s favorite song,” Hitori replied.

And with that, their shared conviction was sealed: joy wasn’t just a feeling. It was a responsibility, a calling, a sacred duty to live life in a way that made both God and humanity smile.

Topic 4: Faith and Prosperity

By now, the garden café felt like a little sanctuary of its own. The rush of Tokyo beyond the gate seemed far away, muffled under the warm glow of lanterns. Joel Osteen leaned in, his expression thoughtful. His words carried the weight of someone who had carried both praise and criticism for decades.

“In America,” he began, “people sometimes criticize me for talking about prosperity. They say I focus too much on success and not enough on suffering. But I’ve always believed that God doesn’t want His children to live in defeat. Faith isn’t just about surviving—it’s about thriving.”

Saito Hitori nodded knowingly, a look of recognition in his eyes. “Ah, Joel-san, I understand this very well. In Japan, people say to me, ‘Why does a spiritual man talk about money?’ But I tell them: money is not dirty. It is one of God’s blessings. If you use it selfishly, it becomes a curse. But if you use it to help others, it becomes holy.”

Joel’s face lit up with a smile. “Yes! That’s what I preach too. Prosperity isn’t greed—it’s stewardship. It’s about having enough not only for yourself, but so you can bless others. Abundance is for sharing, not hoarding.”

Hitori leaned back, his tone soft but firm. “When you are happy, healthy, and financially free, you can give. You can help, you can lift others. That’s true prosperity. If you hoard it, money rots. If you give it, money multiplies. Prosperity is responsibility.”

Joel nodded slowly. “That’s so true. I once knew a single mother in our church. She had nothing—barely enough to put food on the table. But she held onto her faith. She started a tiny business making jewelry. She told me, ‘Pastor, every day I declared that God was going to bless my work.’ Years later, she was employing others, helping women in her community, and living in abundance. That’s what faith and prosperity look like.”

Hitori’s eyes twinkled as he added his own story. “I have given money quietly to struggling shopkeepers. They didn’t know it came from me. I just left an envelope with cash, saying it was God’s gift. Soon their businesses revived. And when they prospered, they helped others. Prosperity spreads like sunlight when you pass it on.”

Joel smiled, clearly moved. “That’s beautiful. You know, people misunderstand when we talk about prosperity. They think we’re promising a mansion and a sports car. But really, prosperity is having what you need, when you need it, so you can fulfill your purpose. And when you trust God, He supplies more than enough.”

Hitori tapped the table gently, his voice carrying both conviction and playfulness. “Yes, Joel-san. People confuse greed with blessing. Greed is taking more than you need. Blessing is having enough to live happily and to give joyfully. God doesn’t want us to suffer endlessly. He wants us to shine. And when we shine, others see His light.”

Joel nodded deeply. “That’s powerful. In the Bible, Jesus said, ‘I have come that you may have life, and have it more abundantly.’ Abundance is God’s idea, not man’s.”

Hitori smiled knowingly. “And abundance is not only money. It is laughter, health, friends, peace. A rich man with no joy is poor. A man with joy and gratitude, even with little money, is already rich. But when joy and faith combine, prosperity naturally follows.”

Joel leaned back, savoring the words. “I love that. In my ministry, I’ve seen people go from poverty to abundance, not because of a lottery ticket, but because they changed their mindset. They believed they could prosper, they trusted God, and they worked with a joyful heart. Faith activated prosperity.”

Hitori chuckled. “In Japan, I tell people, ‘Smile while you work.’ A man who grumbles while selling will scare away customers. A man who smiles will attract them. That smile comes from faith—that God is guiding him, that God is providing. Prosperity is not luck—it is God’s smile reflecting through you.”

Joel clapped his hands lightly, his grin wide. “That’s so true. Faith and prosperity go hand in hand. You can’t separate them. Prosperity without faith becomes empty. Faith without prosperity becomes incomplete. Together, they create a life that blesses others.”

The two men sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, the weight of their shared conviction hanging in the air. Around them, the blossoms continued to fall, the petals landing softly on the table like small tokens of grace.

Joel finally raised his cup once more. “To prosperity—not for ourselves alone, but for the lives we’re called to bless.”

Hitori lifted his as well, his smile serene. “To prosperity as God’s responsibility entrusted to us.”

Their cups touched, and in that simple sound was the echo of their shared truth: prosperity, born of faith, was not a private treasure but a divine trust—a way to reflect God’s generosity to the world.

Topic 5: Making God Personal and Accessible

By now, night had fully draped itself over Tokyo. The lanterns glowed warmly, casting halos of light on the café tables. The air was cool, and the blossoms that had danced so freely in daylight now rested quietly along the stone path. Joel Osteen looked around, deeply moved by the serenity of the setting. He turned back to Hitori, his voice softer than before.

“What amazes me most, Hitori-san,” Joel said, “is how you talk about God. You make Him sound so close—like a parent, or even a friend. In America, many people see God as distant, even angry. But you describe Him as someone who smiles when we smile. That’s powerful.”

Hitori nodded gently, his eyes reflecting the lantern light. “Yes. People think God is far away, sitting on a throne, judging. But I say, God is here—beside us, within us, laughing with us. If you think God is scary, you will never draw close. God is like a parent who wants to see His children happy. When you smile, He smiles. When you laugh, He laughs louder.”

Joel’s eyes softened with recognition. “That’s my mission too. At Lakewood, I tell people, ‘God is not mad at you—He’s madly in love with you.’ So many people carry shame, fear, guilt. They feel unworthy of God. But the truth is, God meets us right where we are, with open arms.”

Hitori leaned forward, his voice almost playful. “Yes! People think they must be perfect before they can talk to God. But that’s like saying a child must be perfect before running to their parent. No, no! God wants us as we are. Joyful, broken, messy—it doesn’t matter. He is always ready to listen.”

Joel smiled and nodded deeply. “That’s the heart of the Gospel—come as you are. Jesus didn’t wait for perfect people. He walked with fishermen, tax collectors, ordinary folks. He showed them that God’s kingdom wasn’t for the elite—it was for everyone.”

Hitori chuckled softly. “Exactly. I say to people, ‘God doesn’t care if you wear fancy robes or pray in perfect words. He cares if you are sincere, if you are grateful, if you live with joy.’ Religion can make things complicated, but God is simple. He wants our hearts.”

The two men grew quiet, letting the truth of their words linger. The café around them had thinned out; only a few guests remained, their conversations hushed. The hum of the city beyond seemed distant, as if the world itself had slowed to listen.

Joel leaned in, almost whispering. “Do you know what surprises me, Hitori-san? We come from different traditions—me from the Bible, you from Japanese wisdom—and yet we’re saying the same thing: that God is accessible, that He is near, that His love is not reserved for a chosen few but open to all.”

Hitori’s eyes sparkled, his face breaking into a wide smile. “Yes. That is how we know it is true. If two men, from opposite ends of the earth, speak the same truth without ever meeting before, then it must come from the same God. Different languages, different cultures—but one heart.”

Joel’s face glowed with joy. “Amen. That’s proof that God’s love is universal. You don’t have to change your nationality or erase your culture to know Him. You just have to open your heart.”

Hitori tilted his head, his tone both gentle and firm. “And when you open your heart, you realize God is not far. He has always been waiting inside you. You are never alone. Even in suffering, God whispers, ‘I am here.’ That is why I tell people: don’t search endlessly outside. Look within. God is already smiling at you.”

Joel let out a deep sigh of agreement. “That’s beautiful. And you know, when people see God this way, not as a harsh judge but as a loving Father, everything changes. Fear gives way to faith. Guilt gives way to joy. Life itself becomes lighter.”

Hitori leaned back, eyes closed for a moment, as if savoring the truth. Then he opened them and said with a grin, “Joel-san, maybe we are proof of God’s sense of humor. Two men, one in Texas, one in Tokyo, living as twins without knowing. God must be laughing with joy right now.”

Joel laughed too, his voice rich and warm. “I believe He is. Because this meeting, this conversation—it isn’t an accident. It’s God’s way of reminding us that His truth is bigger than borders. His love is too great to fit into just one culture or one religion.”

The two men raised their cups one final time, their hands steady, their eyes locked in mutual respect.

“To God,” Joel said simply.

“To the God who smiles,” Hitori added.

The cups touched with a soft chime, echoing through the quiet café. And in that moment, Joel Osteen and Saito Hitori weren’t just two teachers sharing wisdom. They were twin souls, meeting across oceans and traditions, bound by the same conviction: that God is close, that He is love, and that His joy is waiting for anyone who dares to believe.

Final Thoughts by Joel Osteen

What I learned in Japan is that God’s truth isn’t confined to one church, one culture, or one nation. His love is universal. His joy is contagious. And His blessings flow wherever hearts are open to receive them.

Saito Hitori and I may come from opposite sides of the world, but in our conversation I felt like I was sitting with a brother. We laughed, we shared stories, and we discovered that the same God who answers prayers in Houston is the same God who blesses gratitude in Tokyo.

So wherever you are today—America, Japan, or anywhere else—remember this: your words have power, your gratitude invites blessing, your joy is a weapon, prosperity is a trust, and God is as close as your next smile. If you live with faith and keep your heart open, you’ll find that the whole world becomes a garden where God’s love is blooming.

And just like those cherry blossoms, His blessings will fall gently over your life, more beautiful and abundant than you could ever imagine.

Short Bios:

Joel Osteen
Joel Osteen is a Christian minister, author, and televangelist based in Houston, Texas. As the senior pastor of Lakewood Church, one of the largest congregations in the United States, his weekly messages reach millions worldwide through television, radio, books, and digital media. Known for his uplifting and practical sermons, Osteen emphasizes faith, positivity, and the belief that God desires His children to live with joy and abundance.

Saito Hitori
Saito Hitori was a Japanese self-help guru, author, and billionaire entrepreneur whose simple yet profound teachings reached countless people in Japan. Though largely private and rarely appearing in public, he became widely known through his bestselling books and word-of-mouth wisdom. His core messages centered on gratitude, joy, the power of words (kotodama), and living cheerfully in alignment with divine blessings. Hitori inspired millions with his belief that a smiling heart attracts God’s favor and creates a life of happiness and prosperity.