The Covenant I Couldn't Keep
There’s a moment in every man’s life when the walls close in. Not all at once. Slowly. Quietly. Then suddenly. For me, that moment came in December 2015 on a tiny strip of sand and sun called San Pedro, Belize.
But to understand why that moment mattered, you have to rewind the clock.
Chapter One: A Provider’s Path
I didn’t grow up with Jesus. At least, not in the personal sense. I had heard the name, I had witnessed the rituals, but the relationship? That was foreign to me.
I was a dad—two incredible children, ages seven and nine, suddenly depending on me full-time after a divorce that left more questions than answers. With the help of my loving parents, I did what most fathers in my position would do: I hustled. I climbed the corporate ladder. I provided.
I was the guy who made sure the underdog in the office had a seat at the table. I brought others along for the ride. Nobody was left behind. I worked hard, gave generously, smiled often. To the world, it looked like I had it all together.
But there was a part of me that was empty. Hollow. Like building a castle with no cornerstone. The world applauded, but my soul whispered, “This isn’t it.”
Chapter Two: The Breaking Point
In December 2015, things began to crumble. A personal relationship I had hoped would lead to marriage ended unexpectedly. The wound was fresh. But it got worse—my daughter severed our relationship, and I was devastated.
There’s nothing quite like the pain of seeing your child choose to walk away. Looking back, I know now that work had become my idol. My focus was misaligned. I provided materially, but emotionally? I was missing. The weight of regret is a quiet killer. And it was piling up.
So I did what I knew how to do—I escaped.
I booked a solo trip to Belize. A beautiful, rugged little place full of warm people, sunshine, and simplicity. San Pedro felt like another world. No traffic lights. No suits. Just golf carts and flip flops.
On one particular morning, I woke up furious. It was around 8 a.m. when I stepped outside and felt the weight of the world press down on me. I was angry at God—or maybe, angry at the version of Him I had always imagined. The God who had let me love, give, serve... and still end up here.
So I made a covenant. Not a holy one, but a human one. I said—no, I told God to leave me alone. I said, “I don’t want anything to do with You anymore. Do not contact me again.”
I made a covenant of separation.
Chapter Three: A Divine Interruption
I needed a distraction. So I hopped in my rented golf cart and headed north. I didn’t know where I was going. That’s the thing about being lost—you just go. A hand-painted wooden sign caught my eye: “Chat Café – 10km.”
Seemed random enough. I drove the slow, bumpy road for what felt like an eternity. When I finally reached the café, it was closed.
Now what?
Most people would’ve turned around. But something in me said to keep going. The paved road ended, but the path continued along the shoreline. I followed it.
Eventually, I came across a small beachside bar called El Norte. Curious, I parked and wandered in. There I met Chris, a friendly bartender from Surrey, BC. We talked casually—where are you from, what brings you here, the usual.
Then he said, “You should stick around. Lady Catherine and Stew will be here soon. You’ll like them.”
I didn’t know what to expect, but within a few hours, they arrived.
Lady Catherine wasn’t royalty, but you’d swear she was. Picture the elegance of the 1800s, southern charm, parasol and all. Her husband, Stew, was equally unforgettable—top hat, cigar, the whole bit. They felt like characters out of a novel.
We engaged in small talk for a few minutes until something shifted. Lady Catherine’s face changed. She looked at me and said, with quiet authority:
“Craig, I’m sorry to interrupt… but may I share something with you?”
I nodded.
“That covenant you made this morning with God… I feel a strong voice inside me saying you’re not supposed to fulfill it. God has many plans for you. You will lead many souls to His Kingdom.”
I froze.
How could she possibly know?
I had told no one. Not a soul. Yet here she was, a stranger on an island, speaking words only God could’ve whispered to her.
Chapter Four: The Sledgehammer Moment
I told her the truth. I told her what I had said to God just hours earlier. Her eyes widened, and mine filled with disbelief. It was a moment where the invisible becomes undeniable.
God heard my covenant—and interrupted it.
If you’ve walked with the Holy Spirit long enough, you know there are two types of encounters. One is the gentle whisper, like the soft wind that rustles the leaves. The other is the sledgehammer—the moment that breaks you wide open.
This was the sledgehammer.
I didn’t turn back to God that day. Not fully. I was too stubborn. Too broken. But something in me cracked open.
That door the Holy Spirit had knocked on for so long was now unlatched.
It wasn’t until November 4th, 2020—nearly five years later—that I finally walked through that door. Not just with my feet, but with my whole heart.
Chapter Five: Walking Into Grace
You don’t find Jesus in a church building alone. You find Him in the ruins of your pride. In the silence after a covenant of anger. In the prophetic voice of a woman in San Pedro.
When I finally returned to Him, it was not because I had anything left to offer. It was because I had nothing left.
And He welcomed me. Not with rebuke, but with open arms. That’s the relentless love of God. His grace outruns our rebellion.
Today, I’m still on the climb. I’m not perfect. But every step is more intentional. Every day I walk more in alignment with Christ.
My past no longer disqualifies me—it testifies to His mercy.
Three Tangible Ways to Integrate Christ in Your Life
Let this story be more than just inspiration. Let it be a blueprint.
1. Create Sacred Space to Listen
Whether it’s ten minutes in the morning or a quiet walk in nature, give God a chance to whisper. Don’t wait for the sledgehammer. Be intentional about listening. Turn off your phone. Sit with Him. Ask the hard questions. Be willing to hear His answers.
Scripture:
"Be still, and know that I am God." – Psalm 46:10
2. Surrender the Illusion of Control
I spent years trying to be the provider, the fixer, the achiever. But surrender isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Let God take over what you’ve been carrying for too long. You’re not meant to do it alone.
Scripture:
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." – Proverbs 3:5
3. Share Your Story—Even the Broken Parts
You never know who needs to hear the raw truth of your journey. People relate to pain. They connect to struggle. Be honest about your walk. Lead with your scars, not your trophies. That’s where Jesus shines.
Scripture:
"They overcame by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony." – Revelation 12:11
Final Thoughts: Don’t Ignore the Knock
There was a door. I left it shut for years. But God, in His mercy, waited patiently. And then He knocked louder—through Lady Catherine, through loss, through loneliness.
You may feel like you’ve gone too far. You haven’t.
You may think you’re disqualified. You’re not.
The same God who interrupted my rebellion wants to awaken your purpose.
Jesus isn’t waiting to condemn you. He’s waiting to walk with you. Hand in hand. Step by step. Up your own mountain.
And when you look back, you’ll realize—He never left you. Not for one second.
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