RECENTLY I had one of those surreal "light bulb moments", some would say, of the supernatural kind.
I was busy cooking and half listening to an FM radio station in the background that I've come to enjoy.
The song they were playing was from the late Whitney Houston, "Greatest Love Of All".
For some uncanny reason the lyrics of the song began to resonate in a way I hadn't experienced before.
I'd heard this song a thousand times over and, while I loved it, the lyrics never captured me quite the way they did that night.
As Whitney crooned the first verse, "I believe the children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way, show them all the beauty they possess inside, give them a sense of pride to make it easier, let the children's laughter remind us how we used to beâ€¦"
As she sang in that inimitable Whitney way, I felt the gentle warmth of wetness caressing my face.
I realised that something strange was happening to me without understanding what or why.
Being alone on a cold and windy night in Melbourne can be depressing and have that affect, I thought.
But it wasn't that.
Of course the other more logical 'blokey' reason, I presumed, was probably because my best mate, my adorable wife, was still away in Fiji with her family.
So it was natural that I was feeling a little bit melancholy and put it down to that.
As I let the tissues soak up my sinuses and continued cooking, I realised it wasn't that either.
So what was it that was making me teary yet with a feeling of anticipation of something that I couldn't quite put my finger on?
For some inextricable reason I couldn't, for the life of me, dismiss the odd thoughts and emotions flooding into me.
The lyrics of the first verse began to resonate, flowing in a way I would never have believed possible.
Listening to the song, I thought of my beloved Fiji and the beautiful people of the most precious isles on earth.
As Whitney strode majestically into the chorus: "I found the greatest love of all inside of me, the greatest love of all is easy to achieve, learning to love yourself is the greatest love of allâ€¦"
It was as if the chorus was clamoring for my attention to really "listen" as I could feel that whatever it was, was close, almost right there in front of me to touch.
As Whitney hit the high notes of the chorus, it triggered the famous Bible verse that's been used at so many weddings — "Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast. It is not proud. It is not rude. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
The song and Bible verses seemed to be flowing "in concert" in my mind like some strange heavenly harmonic symphony leading me to something momentous and profound. I wanted to get there quickly because I was eager to know what it was and where this was going.
Then I remembered the amazing concluding Chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 from the Bible — "Faith, Hope, Love — But the GREATEST of these is LOVE."
Right then, the "Light Bulb" went off and the song took on a whole new meaning as the message cascaded into what seemed like a billion fragments of fireworks lighting up the night sky in my mind.
It was when I realised that this message was for the leaders of Fiji.
Here is the "message":
"Will you please heed the prophetic words of this song because the children of Fiji are crying out for peace, hope and stability and for a chance to chase after their dreams.
"Will you please give them a chance to make something of their lives.
"You have, in your hands, the opportunity to change the destinies of future generations — of children, people and families yet unborn.
"Will you please put aside your politics and really listen and hear the cries of their heart because this moment in time may never pass your way again."
Oh boy, I must be going 'soft' in the head. It's what loneliness does to people sometimes I thought.
"I was trying desperately to justify in some logical, sensible way what had just happened.
So what am I supposed to do with this, was the question in my mind?
Quick as a flash the answer came like some invisible person had just read my mind — write about it and relay the "message".
But what if people think I've gone around the bend, I mused. That's not your problem, came the quiet reply.
At the expense of sounding like a crackpot, and after reading this article you think I've lost my 'marbles', that's okay because, for a bit, I thought this too.
Whatever you wish to make of this, and of me, is none of my business. I sense I've done what I'm supposed to do.
Now the rest is up to you.
* Colin Deoki is a regular contributor/columnist for The Fiji Times based in Australia.