https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCXuI4QwUefR2L5akunxMvIw

Republic of Fiji Military Forces Chaplaincy Department, Maddocks Road,bua, Suva (2025)

25/11/2025

𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗡

𝗟𝘂𝗸𝗲 𝟲:𝟯𝟳.

“𝐷𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑔𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑑𝑔𝑒𝑑. 𝐷𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑. 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛”

Jesus teaches us that a heart free from judgment and condemnation is a heart that reflects God’s mercy. When we choose to forgive, we not only release others—we also release ourselves to receive God’s healing. This verse reminds us that forgiveness is the doorway to reconciliation. It restores what was broken and allows relationships, families, and communities to move forward in peace.

Instead of holding onto grudges or pointing fingers, Jesus calls us to take the path of grace. As we forgive and seek reconciliation, we participate in God’s work of healing and restoring the people around us. Mercy given becomes mercy received.

𝗣𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿:

Lord, fill my heart with grace. Help me to forgive, to seek reconciliation, and to walk in Your peace. Make me an instrument of healing wherever there is hurt. Amen.

𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗶 𝗸𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗸𝗮 𝗾𝗮𝗾𝗮

23/11/2025

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘 – 𝗚𝗢𝗗 𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥, 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦

Psalm 23:4 (NIV)

"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

In this powerful verse, David reminds us that God’s presence is not only with us on the mountaintops but also in the darkest valleys of life. Difficult seasons—times of loss, confusion, fear, or uncertainty—do not mean God has abandoned us. Instead, He walks beside us, guiding and protecting us every step of the way. His “rod and staff” symbolize His guidance, discipline, and protection, assuring us that we are never alone in our struggle.

Even in moments when the path feels unclear, God’s steady presence brings comfort. You can take courage today: God is with you, God is for you, and God will lead you through every valley into a place of peace and restoration.

𝗣𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿:

Thank you Lord for your presence in every darkness of my life. I acknowledge Your protecting hands, Your comfort and Your love. Amen

𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗶 𝗸𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗸𝗮 𝗾𝗮𝗾𝗮.

01/11/2025

𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄: 𝐌𝐲 𝟐𝟒-𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐑𝐅𝐌𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐅𝐌𝐅)

Never in my wildest dreams did I realize that the tragedy I went through in 2000—the murder of my father—was actually part of God’s process of preparing me for His purpose. What seemed like unbearable pain at that time was, in fact, the foundation of God’s divine plan to shape my heart, strengthen my faith, and equip me for the calling that lay ahead.

In 2005, I was ordained as a Minister of the Methodist Church in Fiji while serving at the Nausori Highland Circuit. The ordination ceremony took place at Narewa Methodist Church in Nadi. Three days before the ordination, we were required to undergo an oral interview before all the Ministers of the Church as part of the requirements of the Ministerial Committee.

During the interview, the Principal of Davuilevu Theological College asked a profound question:

“𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑎 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑐ℎ? 𝑂𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐺𝑜𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑦?”

I responded to this question in three different ways. One of my answers was:

“𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗚𝗼𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗜𝗳 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺, 𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗯𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗜 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗽𝘂𝗿-𝗼𝗳-𝘁𝗵𝗲-𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗛𝗼𝘄𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿, 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗼𝗹𝘆 𝗦𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝗮𝘀 𝗚𝗼𝗱’𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲, 𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆.”

The year 2024 marked my 24th year in ministry, 19th year as an ordained Church Minister, and sixth year as a chaplain in the Republic of Fiji Military Forces.

In 2018, I was appointed by the Church to serve with the Republic of Fiji Military Forces (RFMF) on a mission tour in Sinai, which lasted until 2019. This experience marked my introduction to the RFMF and, I believe, was part of God’s process of familiarizing me with military life and its context. My service with the RFMF in international peacekeeping duties presented both significant challenges and valuable opportunities, placing me in a ministry context vastly different from the thirteen years I had spent serving in village and civilian communities.

I vividly remember my time with Battalion 37 in Multinational Force Observers in Sinai, commanded by Lt. Col. Viliame Draunibaka, who had been my classmate at Ratu Kadavulevu School. Adjusting to this new environment was both challenging and fascinating, as it was part of God’s ongoing process of molding me to serve Him within the RFMF, a purpose I was unaware of.

Upon my return, I was informed by the then President of the Methodist Church in Fiji and Rotuma, that I had been appointed as the Assistant Chaplain for the Republic of Fiji Military Forces, at the request of the then Commander RFMF, Rear Admiral Viliame Naupoto, and upon the advice of the then Force Chaplain Rev. Sevati Tuwere. This appointment came as a surprise, and I turned to God with a heartfelt question: “𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙, 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙁𝙈𝙁? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚?”

I began my service as Assistant Force Chaplain in June 2019. Serving in the Republic of Fiji Military Forces has been both challenging and deeply rewarding. The military environment presents unique demands, requiring me to balance the spiritual and emotional needs of soldiers with the discipline and structure of military life.

As Chaplain of the RFMF, I am called to walk alongside soldiers who face immense stress, uncertainty, and life-threatening situations—offering compassion, spiritual guidance, and hope in their struggles. My ministry extends beyond individuals to the entire RFMF community, providing pastoral care for personnel and their families, strengthening relationships, and fostering resilience amid the demands of service and daily life. The chaplaincy also plays a vital role in upholding unity, moral integrity, and spiritual well-being within the institution. Though the work often tests my patience and resilience, it has deepened my faith and taught me that true ministry goes beyond church walls—it is about being present, bringing God’s comfort, and offering strength to those who serve our nation with courage and sacrifice.

The year 2021 marked a significant period of transition within the Republic of Fiji Military Forces (RFMF). In September, the leadership changed with the appointment of the new Commander, Major General Ro Jone Kalouniwai Logavatu. This change brought several shifts within the Forces, introducing new perspectives, priorities, and approaches to military operations and administration. The transition under the new leadership was centered on transforming the RFMF into a professional and law-abiding institution.

As part of my responsibility in the RFMF, I advised the leadership on matters affecting the institution’s integrity. In early 2022, after a morning devotion with the Commander, I shared what God had revealed to me—that the RFMF was facing deep spiritual and moral challenges rooted in unresolved historical events, including the coups since 1987, the tragic 2000 mutiny, and the 2000 and 2006 coups and their aftermath. While justice had been served for some, the emotional and moral wounds inflicted on civilians and the vanua remained unhealed, affecting the institution’s morale and spiritual health. I emphasized the urgent need for a structured reconciliation process—both within the RFMF and with the wider community—to confront the past, promote healing, and restore trust. Such a process, grounded in accountability, humility, and faith, would strengthen unity, rebuild moral integrity, and ensure that the RFMF becomes a spiritually grounded, ethically responsible, and resilient institution capable of serving the nation with honor and purpose.

The driving force behind this initiative is rooted in the transformative work God accomplished in my life twenty-four years ago, when I received the call to serve in the ministry of reconciliation. This personal testimony demonstrates the power of God to bring renewal, and I am convinced that the Republic of Fiji Military Forces can undergo a similar process. By embracing reconciliation and forgiveness at both individual and institutional levels, the RFMF can address historical wounds, rebuild trust, and restore unity and moral integrity. Such a process would provide a spiritually grounded and ethically sound foundation for accountability, cohesion, and effective leadership, enabling the Forces to serve with honor, discipline, and renewed purpose. In this way, the same transformative power that healed one life can guide the institution toward collective restoration and sustainable trust.

The 2nd of November 2023 marked a significant moment that ignited the initiative for reconciliation to begin in 2024. On that day, I had the honor of officiating the Mutiny Memorial Service, which was attended by a large gathering of both former and current RFMF officers and personnel, including the former Prime Minister, Mr. Bainimarama.

Towards the conclusion of my sermon, I addressed the RFMF with these words:
“I have served in the RFMF for three years, and during that time, I have learned many lessons. One important lesson is that we should not look at things only from one side but try to see them from different points of view. With this understanding, I believe the RFMF can look beyond what this commemoration means to us and consider what more we can do with good purpose and intention. So, I ask this question: 𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝐹𝑀𝐹 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚?”

This statement was intended to challenge existing mindsets and inspire reflection on the possibility of reconciliation. It called upon the Forces to see reconciliation not as a sign of weakness or compromise, but as a courageous and necessary step toward healing past wounds, restoring unity, and rebuilding trust—both within the institution and with the wider community.

That moment planted a seed—a vision that would guide the RFMF toward a more spiritually grounded, ethically strong, and unified future.

When the memorial service concluded that day, the former Prime Minister, Mr. Bainimarama, shook my hand and said, “𝑃𝑎𝑑𝑟𝑒, 𝑚𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑘𝑎 𝑛𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑜 𝑖𝑘𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑎, 𝑎𝑢 𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑖𝑞𝑜𝑚𝑖 𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑎 𝐶𝑅𝑊,” meaning, “I have accepted the CRW.” He also conveyed the same statement to the Commander of the RFMF. On that same day, the CRFMF said to me, “𝑆𝑎 𝑣𝑎𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑖 𝑎𝑢 𝑛𝑎 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑎 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑀 𝑛𝑖 𝑠𝑎 𝑐𝑖𝑞𝑜𝑚𝑖 𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑎 𝐶𝑅𝑊. 𝐸𝑛𝑎 2𝑛𝑑 𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟, 2024, 𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎 𝑠𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡𝑢𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑎 𝑘𝑒𝑖 𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑎 𝐶𝑅𝑊 𝑒𝑘𝑒,” which can be understood as, “The former Prime Minister has shown that he has accepted the CRW. On 2nd November 2024, the CRW will be holding a church service together here at QEB.”

Then, in December 2023, during our RFMF Family Church service at the old Gymnasium, I delivered a sermon in which I suggested that “The year 2024 be formally designated as the Year of Reconciliation and Restoration”. This message was a reflection of the significant conversation that took place on 2nd November between me and the Commander of the RFMF, as well as the statement made by the former Prime Minister to us regarding the acceptance of the CRW.

As we have come to another 2nd November this year, 2025, we not only remember the events and the dark days of 2000, but more importantly we acknowledge God’s work in reconciling and restoring the RFMF and families from what happened 24 years ago. To the Commander RFMF, Directors, Senior Officers, and all the men and women of the RFMF — I truly believe that: '𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝑭𝑴𝑭. Reconciliation is God’s tool to restore what’s been broken, heal wounded relationships, and rebuild the integrity and honor we may have lost along the way. It’s not weakness — its courage, faith, and obedience to God’s will.

Reconciliation is not just a program — it’s a movement of the heart. Let’s walk this journey together with humility and faith, trusting God to bring healing, hope, and renewal to the RFMF.

However, unforgiveness, on the other hand, is detrimental. It poisons the heart, clouds our judgment, and prevents true healing from taking place. When we hold on to resentment, we give power to the very pain that hurt us, allowing it to control our emotions, relationships, and even our spiritual growth. Unforgiveness becomes a heavy burden that hinders reconciliation and blocks the flow of God’s grace in our lives.

I call upon the RFMF to humble itself before the Lord, to seek Him always, and to restore its relationships, for it is God’s will for us.

In 2 Chronicles 7:14, God’s words to King Solomon say:

“𝗶𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲, 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱."

𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐅𝐌𝐅 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐅𝐌𝐅 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!

01/11/2025

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡...𝐼𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝐹𝑀𝐹 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑛 𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 2𝑛𝑑, 2024...

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

After my father’s death, life was no longer as easy as it had been before. In my family, I am the second eldest of four siblings. My eldest sister was already married, living with her husband and children in the village. My two younger siblings were still in school, my younger brother in secondary school and my youngest sister in primary school.

I could feel the heavy burden my father had carried for years now resting on my shoulders. The responsibilities he once bore; providing, protecting, and guiding were now mine to carry on his behalf. I had to step up to support my mother, not only emotionally but also in the day-to-day challenges of life.

At the college, my second semester, wasn’t an easy one. I found myself struggling to cope with the situation I was going through. The grief was still raw, the responsibilities overwhelming, and yet, I had to find a way to focus on my education. Every day was a battle between the desire to excel in my studies and the pull of family duties, between the pain of loss and the hope of a better future. Trying to concentrate in class after such a tragedy felt like trying to read in the middle of a storm, but deep inside, I knew giving up was not an option.

Through it all, three things became my anchor: resilience, learning, and trust in God’s process. I came to realize that this was the very process God wanted to build within me. He was not just helping me survive the pain; He was shaping my character, strengthening my faith, and teaching me to rely fully on Him. Each challenge was not a roadblock, but a step in His divine plan, a training ground for the person He was calling me to become.

When I was at school, I made good use of my time, the little money I received every fortnight, and the available land beside the dormitory to plant food crops. This effort was not just for myself but also to support my family back home. By managing these limited resources wisely, I learned the value of hard work and responsibility, and how small contributions can make a significant difference in helping loved ones.

What I have discovered through experiencing this tragedy is that the lessons and training I received from MLTC were incredibly helpful. The challenges I faced could have overwhelmed me, but the skills, knowledge, and support gained from MLTC equipped me to navigate those difficult times with resilience and clarity. Reflecting back, I realize that what I went through at MLTC prepared me not only to cope with hardship but also to grow stronger through it. The experience gave me practical tools and a deeper understanding that have been invaluable in helping me move forward and find hope despite the pain.

My tragedy has helped to train my spirit to be steadfast and unshakeable in the face of adversity. It has taught me patience when answers are slow to come, courage when fear threatens to take over, and humility in accepting what cannot be changed. This painful journey has also deepened my empathy and compassion toward others who suffer, allowing me to support and encourage them in their own struggles. Ultimately, what once seemed like overwhelming hardship has become a source of strength, shaping me into a more resilient, hopeful, and compassionate person.

I graduated from DTC in 2002, fully prepared and eager to carry out the mission to which I had been called. My first appointment was at MLTC, from 2003 to 2004, where I took on the responsibility of teaching. This role was both challenging and rewarding, as it allowed me to share knowledge, inspire others, and contribute meaningfully to the development of those under my guidance. Starting my career at MLTC laid a strong foundation for my future work, teaching me valuable lessons in leadership, discipline, and dedication to the mission.

From 2005 to 2009, I was posted to Nausori Highlands in Navosa. During my service in this circuit, the ministry of reconciliation became a central focus of my work. As I engaged with the community—particularly in family, church and tribal disputes and reconciliation—I witnessed firsthand the deep need for healing and restoration among individuals and families affected by conflict and division. Through prayer, counseling, evangelism, visitation, and active listening, I was able to facilitate processes that fostered understanding and forgiveness. This experience profoundly shaped my approach to ministry, teaching me the importance of patience, empathy, and the transformative power of reconciliation in rebuilding relationships and strengthening the community.

As I continued serving in each circuit, my passion for the ministry of reconciliation grew stronger and more intense. Every story of healing and every restored relationship fueled my determination to help more people find peace and unity. This work became not just a duty but a calling that deeply stirred my heart. The challenges I faced only strengthened my resolve, teaching me to rely on God’s guidance and grace to persevere. Through this journey, I developed a profound conviction that reconciliation is the foundation for true transformation—both individually, within communities, and in every area of life.

From 2010 to 2015, I served at the Nabuna and Vatulele Circuit on Koro Island, dedicating six years to this community. Initially appointed for a five-year term, I was honored to have my service extended by an additional year at the request of the ‘vanua’ (the local community) to the Headquarters of the Methodist Church in Fiji. The pinnacle of my ministry during this time was the work of reconciliation.

One of the most significant moments at Nabuna and Vatulele Circuit was the uncovering and resolving a long-standing case concerning the mysterious murder of a Nabuna villager by a group of youths. Through patient dialogue, prayer, fasting, and mediation, we were able to bring healing and closure to a painful chapter that had weighed heavily on the community for years. Witnessing this deep reconciliation firsthand reignited the fire within me, a renewed passion to pursue peace and restoration wherever it is needed. This experience further confirmed the transformative power of forgiveness and unity in rebuilding broken relationships and strengthening the fabric of community life.

31/10/2025

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡...𝐼𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑅𝐹𝑀𝐹 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑅𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑛 𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 2𝑛𝑑, 2024...

𝐈𝐈. 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧:

God’s calling is never as easy as we imagine. It takes courage to embrace the difficult process and remain rooted in faith when challenges and tests come our way. My journey of forgiveness became a defining part of that calling, teaching me that true strength is not found in retaliation, but in surrendering to God’s grace and trusting His purpose through the pain.

When my father died, it took me three hours to come to terms with his death—to find the strength to forgive those responsible and to experience God’s peace even in the midst of deep sorrow over his loss. Such forgiveness and inner peace were only possible through the power of God, for forgiveness is not about forgetting what happened, but about freeing the heart from hatred and allowing healing to begin.

A week after my father was buried, I returned from Davuilevu carrying dried kava root for the 'sevusevu' ceremony and a ‘matanigasu’, token for the family of those who plotted and murdered my father. My intention was to seek forgiveness from the family responsible for the death of my father.

I did not see my father’s death merely as a tragic act of victimization. Instead, I believed he died because he had done something wrong. This perspective was unusual in a situation that resulted in death, as the blame almost always falls entirely on the murderer. However, I chose to see it differently—through what I believed was God’s point of view—and as a way to find relief, not by focusing on the problem, but by seeing the opportunity within it. I also did not regard the actions of those responsible as entirely wrong. To me, they were not enemies; they were my relatives.

In our tradition, we call this close family relationship 'mataqali'. This word carries deep significance, it is not just only about shared ancestry, but about the web of obligations, loyalty, and mutual care that binds us together. It shapes our identity, defines our place in the community, and reminds us that even in the face of conflict or tragedy, these bonds remain unbroken. Seeing my father’s death through this cultural and spiritual lens helped me to approach the situation not with bitterness, but with a sense of humility, understanding, and a desire for reconciliation.

With this understanding, seeking forgiveness became the only way forward for me. From a human point of view, many might have seen it as an act of weakness or even cowardice—to acknowledge the pain and choose to forgive those who caused it. But in God’s eyes, it was an act of strength and courage. Forgiveness is not about excusing wrongdoing; it is about releasing the burden of bitterness and choosing peace over revenge. As Jesus says in Matthew 5:9, “Blessed are the peacemakers…” By choosing forgiveness, I was breaking the cycle of pain and opening the door to healing—not only for myself but also for those who had wounded my family.

It was a step of obedience to God’s will, for He calls His children to live in peace and not in hatred. God’s heart is for reconciliation, not division, for love, not revenge. When we choose peace, we align ourselves with His divine purpose and reflect His nature to the world. In forgiving others, we become instruments of His peace—restoring what hatred seeks to destroy and allowing His light to shine through our pain.

Through this journey, I learned that forgiveness is deeply spiritual, it goes beyond human understanding and logic. It is an act of obedience to God, a reflection of His unconditional love for us. When I chose to forgive, I experienced firsthand the freedom that comes from surrendering my pain and anger to God.

I realized that holding onto bitterness only chained me to the past and prevented me from living fully in the present. Forgiveness opened my heart to God’s peace, which surpasses all understanding. It taught me that God’s justice is perfect, and I can trust Him to bring true restoration in His time.

Most importantly, I understood that forgiveness is not a one-time event but a continuous process a daily decision to walk in grace, compassion, and humility. It transformed my perspective on suffering, allowing me to see my father’s death not just as a loss, but as a call to deeper faith and reconciliation.

I approached my father’s younger brother and asked if we could go together to seek forgiveness from those who had plotted my father’s death. The conversation was not easy; there was tension and hesitation. I told him that, even though my father was gone and had been killed, we still had to forgive those responsible for what they had done. I explained that what the Holy Spirit had impressed upon my heart could not be changed. We needed to follow through with the plan I had received, no matter how difficult it was. Forgiveness was necessary, not only for their sake but also for our own healing and peace.

As my father’s younger brother saw how passionate I was about this intention, he calmly followed, showing his support. Accompanying us that day were some of our relatives from Matuku. It was one of the most courageous things I have ever done in my life, and I thank God for His guidance and support throughout the journey.

That day marked the beginning of a difficult but necessary step toward healing. What I learned through that experience was profound: ‘the best way to overcome hatred is to face the people you hold anger against, rather than allowing bitterness and resentment to fester inside’. Holding onto such negative emotions only creates walls between us and prevents true peace.

Facing those who had caused me so much pain was incredibly challenging. I wrestled with mixed feelings of fear, sadness, anger, love, and compassion. Yet deep down, I felt a calm assurance—a deep sense of peace—knowing that I was walking in God’s will. It was not an easy path, but I trusted God’s process for my life, believing that surrendering my pain and choosing forgiveness was the only way forward.

Through this act of seeking forgiveness, I came to understand that true strength is found not in holding on to pride or revenge, but in humility and surrender. Forgiveness was not about excusing what had happened, but about freeing myself from the heavy burden of hatred. It was a moment of breaking down walls and opening hearts, not only between families but also within myself.

This experience reshaped my understanding of healing and reconciliation. It showed me that healing begins when we choose grace over bitterness and that peace comes when we release the need to control justice and instead trust God’s perfect plan. Most importantly, it reminded me that God’s love is powerful enough to transform even the deepest wounds into sources of hope and renewal.

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔.

30/10/2025

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄, 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐃'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝:

[𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗙𝗠𝗙 𝗥𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗥𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺, 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗤𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗘𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁𝗵 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗡𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮, 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰]

It was on Sunday morning, the 30th of April 2000, at 11:15 a.m. in the Baker Memorial Hall during the church service, I received a message from one of the church elders that I had a visitor outside. When I stepped out, I saw one of my cousins; my dad’s younger brother’s son waiting for me. He was wearing shorts and a vest, with his t-shirt in his hand. The way he was dressed told me something was wrong because it was Sunday. Little did I know, he had come to deliver the news of my father’s death.

When I came to where he was standing, I asked him, “Sa vacava?” (“What’s happened?”).
He responded, “O Ta Levu sa mate,” meaning, “My dad has died.”
I continued and asked, “E mate vakacava?” (“How did he die?”).
He answered, “E lauvacu, e laumoku ena kau, kaukaukamea kei na boloko, e laucaqe me yacova ni mate,” meaning, “He was punched, kicked, and beaten with wood, iron, and blocks until he died.”

I stood there in shock, unable to comprehend the words I had just heard. My heart began to race, and a heaviness settled deep inside me. I looked at him, searching his eyes for some sign that this was a mistake, but his face was set with grief and anger.

I asked him again. “E dina sara ga?” meaning, “Is this true?” He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the ground and he was crying.

The world around me seemed to grow darker the moment I heard the unwelcome news. My heart sank, and an overwhelming wave of confusion and grief flooded my soul. I turned to God in desperation, crying out, “Lord, please help me understand. How does Your calling for me to serve as a ‘Talatala’ relate to this tragedy? How can I reconcile this ministry You have placed upon my life, whose passion has overwhelmed my heart, with the way my father died? I cannot make sense of this situation.”

In the midst of my sorrow, a troubling thought crept into my mind, the overpowering desire to avenge my father’s death. The pain and anger within me began to take root, twisting my thoughts toward revenge. I resolved in my heart that I would track down the one responsible and take his life, convincing myself in that moment that such an act would somehow bring justice, or at least quiet the storm raging inside me.

It was all in the spur of a moment, a burning impulse that seemed to consume me. What I hated most was not simply that my father had died, but the way in which his life was taken. If he had passed away naturally, perhaps I could have found the strength to accept it, to grieve and move on. But what I heard was far from natural. It was a story filled with cruelty and injustice, and each word I heard only fed the fire of anger and grief within me.

I then turned to my cousin brother and quietly asked him to come with me up to my dormitory. Once we arrived, I left him in my room and went searching for a quiet place where I could be alone to pray and read the same scripture that had been shared earlier that morning in church. I still remember the weight of my Bible in my hand as I walked the corridor, my heart heavy with unanswered questions.

Eventually, I found an empty room. I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, sit down and pray. There, in the silence, I prayed three times and read three times the passage from Matthew 6: 9–15, the very words that had been read earlier in the service at Baker Hall.

As I read, one phrase seemed to pierce my heart more deeply than anything else: “…forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us…” And then verses 14–15 struck me with even greater force: “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

I lingered over those words, reading them again and again, my lips moving slowly as if trying to absorb every syllable. Each time I read them, it felt as though God was speaking directly to my wounded heart. The message was clear, yet painfully difficult to accept: my own forgiveness from God was bound to my willingness to forgive others, even the one who had taken my father’s life.

Deep down, I knew I could not move forward—in my calling, in my faith, or in my life—without first understanding what God wanted to teach me through this moment of loss and distress. It took me hours to reach that point. From the moment my cousin brother delivered the devastating news about my father at Baker Hall hill, my mind and heart had been thrown into turmoil. Shock hit me first, a numbness that made everything feel distant and unreal. Then came the waves of anger, confusion, and deep grief, crashing over me one after another, leaving me gasping for breath in my own thoughts. I replayed the words over and over, struggling to believe they were true, yet feeling the raw pain as if it were tearing me apart. All that time, my soul wrestled in chaos, torn between the urge for justice and the whisper of God’s call to forgive.

In that still, sacred room, as I praying and reading the Bible, when the air felt heavy, yet holy, voice cutting through the silence, God spoke directly to my heart and mind: “If you cannot forgive those who killed your father, I will not forgive you.” The words landed with a weight I could not shake, unyielding yet tender, filled with truth and unshakable authority. My breath caught, my spirit trembled. In that moment, I encountered something far greater than myself: the life changing power of God’s Word and the unstoppable force of prayer. Slowly, with trembling lips and a breaking heart, I resolved to accept what had happened. I chose to forgive the very people who had taken my father’s life. And in that act of obedience, the chaos, stress, and heavy burden of unforgiveness inside me gave way to a deep, indescribable peace.

I’ve learned from this event that ‘unforgiveness’ is like a prison cold, confining and isolating. It can be very destructive to us if we cannot control it. When we hold onto resentment and refuse to let go, it can poison our hearts and minds, leading to bitterness, stress, and broken relationships. Over time, this emotional burden can affect our mental and physical health, preventing us from experiencing true peace and healing. Learning to forgive is essential for our well-being and freedom.

And in that same moment of distress and sorrow, His purpose for my life became clear: 𝑮𝒐𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒅. My calling was not only to preach, but to walk alongside the broken, to guide them toward forgiveness, and to restore hope where there had been only grief and anger.

The future became clear, and the darkness that once clouded my heart began to lift, giving way to light. A deep sense of empathy filled my soul, and I found myself feeling compassion for the perpetrators, realizing they had done something they did not fully understand. This realization brought me a measure of peace, as I began to see beyond their wrongdoing to the brokenness within them. It took me three hours of prayer, Bible reading, and study before I could finally accept those who had killed my father.

As my cousin brother and I left DTC to return home to see my mother and younger siblings, I felt a deep sense of peace and faith, trusting that the Lord had truly done His part in my life. I had been healed, equipped, and prepared to become a peacemaker in this difficult context. It wasn’t an easy journey, but I knew in my heart that God had been at work within me. He healed my wounds so I could help heal others, He anointed me to serve and minister, and He set me free so I could help others find freedom too.

When I arrived home, I gently comforted my mother and my siblings, offering them hope and reassurance in the midst of our shared grief. I let them know with heartfelt sincerity that I had come to accept the loss of our father, which brought a sense of peace to all of us. I also extended that peace to the community where I live, reaching out to those who were hurting and offering words of comfort and understanding. In that difficult time, God used me as a peacemaker, bridging divides and fostering healing among those affected. I feel truly blessed and deeply grateful.

To be continued tomorrow...

Republic of Fiji Military Forces Chaplaincy Department

25/11/2025

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