{"id":20372,"date":"2026-03-11T09:15:45","date_gmt":"2026-03-11T09:15:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gpbookstore.org\/articles\/uncategorized\/they-were-meant-to-be-together-after-a-few-detours\/"},"modified":"2026-04-10T06:09:55","modified_gmt":"2026-04-10T06:09:55","slug":"they-were-meant-to-be-together-after-a-few-detours","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gpbookstore.org\/articles\/positive-living\/friends-and-family\/marriage\/they-were-meant-to-be-together-after-a-few-detours\/","title":{"rendered":"They Were Meant to Be Together\u2014After a Few Detours"},"content":{"rendered":"

Marci: <\/strong>In high school, I spent my summers in the foothills of the Sierras with my grandmother, in a little town near Yosemite National Park<\/a> called Bass Lake. My freshman year, I went along with her church on a mission trip to Mexico. That\u2019s how I met John. Sitting by the campfire, strumming our guitars, John made me laugh. Made me feel special. He was three years older than me, just weeks away from joining the Marines. I hated to see the week end.<\/p>\n

A year later, I was at church in Bass Lake with my grandmother and John walked in. He looked so different with his military buzz cut. We spent the afternoon together and before he left, he gave me his address and hugged me so close I could feel both our hearts beating.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomeday I will come back for you,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

That night, I pulled out my prettiest stationery and wrote him a letter.<\/p>\n

John: <\/strong>I didn\u2019t expect a letter from Marci. Or anybody. Getting that envelope during mail call at Camp Pendleton was a shock. A lot of people only pretended to care, then forgot about you. Alcohol and my parents\u2019 divorce had all but destroyed my family. That was a big reason why I joined the Marines<\/a>, to escape, to do something I could be proud of and get some order in my life.<\/p>\n

I tore the letter open. Slowly read every word about Marci\u2019s life in high school, a movie she\u2019d gone to, the song she was learning on the guitar. She had all these questions about the Marines.<\/p>\n

I wrote her back as soon as I could. I didn\u2019t want to rush it, though. I wanted the words to be perfect.<\/p>\n

We wrote back and forth for the next three years, even when my unit was deployed to Korea and the Philippines. Someone back home was thinking about me. I liked that. But toward the end of my service, I began to dread the idea of returning to civilian life, where there was no plan, no orders to follow. All I could think about was the terrible reality I\u2019d escaped.<\/p>\n

I started drinking, just like my dad. I quit church. And I stopped writing to Marci. Her last letter stayed tucked in my rucksack. I couldn\u2019t throw it away, but I couldn\u2019t answer it, either. What could I write? A girl like that deserved someone better than a lost soul like me.<\/p>\n

Marci: <\/strong>It was just some schoolgirl crush, I told myself. John obviously didn\u2019t feel the same way I did. If he did, wouldn\u2019t he have written back?<\/p>\n

I was 19 by then and had graduated from high school. I was going to junior college, living with my parents near Sacramento. I moved on. Started dating a cute guy. He was nothing like John, but I liked him okay. He was a good distraction. My friends thought he was too clingy, too controlling, but I didn\u2019t want to end up alone, right? He was so in love with me that he proposed after only a few months. It felt way too soon, but I said yes.<\/p>\n

John: <\/strong>I got a job working for Eric, an old high school friend from Bass Lake, pouring concrete in the San Francisco Bay Area. We even roomed together, in San Ramon. Two guys living the bachelor life. Eric owned a twin-engine plane, so for fun we\u2019d take it up for a ride. I was free from my family, ready for a fresh start.<\/p>\n

One day\u2014it was sometime in early December\u2014Eric had an idea. \u201cRemember that girl Marci who came to Bass Lake in the summertime? Her family\u2019s in Sacramento. It would be cool to see her again. Let\u2019s fly and meet her. I\u2019ll give her a call.\u201d All I could think about was how she must have thought I\u2019d dropped off the face of the earth after her last letter. Why would she want to see me? But I couldn\u2019t tell Eric that.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d I said. \u201cSounds great.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marci: <\/strong>I barely recognized the guy who climbed out of the plane. He\u2019d grown a beard and added some muscle. When our eyes met, I felt that flutter I\u2019d felt when I was 15.<\/p>\n

John came to my parents\u2019 house near Sacramento for dinner. He had two helpings of spaghetti and kept my family on the edge of their seats with his stories. After supper, I got my guitar and we played for each other. It was with him on that long-ago mission trip<\/a>.<\/p>\n

I drove Eric and John back to the airstrip. John hugged me for a long time before saying goodbye. I watched as the plane taxied down the runway, then stared at the ring on my finger. How could I marry someone I didn\u2019t love? Especially when I knew I was in love with someone else?<\/p>\n

John: <\/strong>I looked out the window at the stars and thought about Marci all the way back to San Ramon. She hadn\u2019t said one peep about my not writing to her. She wasn\u2019t resentful at all. But she was taken. I\u2019d tried not to stare at her diamond. I\u2019d missed my chance. One more thing I\u2019d messed up. Loser!<\/em><\/p>\n

Marci: <\/strong>I needed to write John one last letter. I racked my brain for just the right words. But how do you say \u201cI love you\u201d without actually saying it? Without sounding too forward? After all, I was engaged.<\/p>\n

My hand shook as I wrote, \u201cHi, John. I just wanted to drop a note in the mail to let you know I really enjoyed seeing you tonight. I would really like to see you again, sometime soon, maybe?\u201d I wrote a couple more lines, then signed it, \u201cWith love, Marci.\u201d Maybe that wasn\u2019t enough. I added a P.S.: \u201cI\u2019ve missed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I realized that I didn\u2019t have John\u2019s address. I didn\u2019t have Eric\u2019s phone number in San Ramon, either. This was pre-Google. I called directory assistance. They couldn\u2019t find a listing for Eric. Finally I addressed the letter to Eric\u2019s mother near Bass Lake. That\u2019s all I could do.<\/p>\n

The next day, I met up with my fianc\u00e9, ended our engagement and said a long shot of a prayer<\/a>. You are the God of love above all else. If John is who I\u2019m meant to be with, please make it come true.<\/em><\/p>\n

John: <\/strong>Just before Christmas, I had the most out-of-control night of my life. I woke up the next morning and had no idea where I was. My head was pounding. The sunlight hurt my eyes. I was in my truck, and the front end was buried in a snowdrift. I stared out the windshield at a big tree just a few feet ahead of my bumper. I could have killed myself.<\/p>\n

Maybe I should have.<\/em><\/p>\n

I barely remembered having driven back to Bass Lake, where I was supposed to house-sit for Eric\u2019s family over the holidays. Going home stirred up old demons. I\u2019d met up with some friends the night before and gone drinking. I must have hopped behind the wheel, blacked out. Was my life really that worthless, that I\u2019d throw it away?<\/p>\n

I got out of the truck and fell to my knees in the snow<\/a>. God, I can\u2019t do this on my own. I know how to follow orders. Just tell me what I need to do. <\/em>I got to my feet. After a while, I was able to flag down a passing car that took me into town, where I got a tow truck.<\/p>\n

Marci: <\/strong>Three weeks had gone by since I wrote my letter. There was no word from John. What if he had never thought of me as anything more than a pen pal? I\u2019d almost gotten married. Now I\u2019d be alone forever.<\/p>\n

John: <\/strong>I finally got to Eric\u2019s mom\u2019s house and apologized to her for being late. The first thing she did was hand me an envelope. From Marci? How did she know I\u2019d be here? How had she found me? I opened the flap and pulled out the letter. She didn\u2019t come out and say it, but I could read between the lines. P.S. I\u2019ve missed you.<\/em><\/p>\n

For once, I knew just what to do without being told.<\/p>\n

Marci: <\/strong>I was coming home from church after attending Christmas Eve services with my family. There was something waiting on the doorstep\u2014a dozen red roses. My heart leaped. I ran to the flowers and pulled out the card with them: \u201cLooking forward to seeing you again. John.\u201d<\/p>\n

John: <\/strong>I quit drinking. Went back to church. Got my act together. For myself. In June the following year, I married the woman of my dreams: Marci.<\/p>\n

That was 34 years ago. Today, when I look at my wife, our kids and the home and family we built together, I thank God that the snowdrift stopped me before the tree did. I never would have gotten Marci\u2019s letter. Never would have bought her those roses. Never would have cleaned up my life and let go of my bitterness. And never would have found lasting happiness and love.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

For more inspiring stories, subscribe to <\/em>Guideposts<\/strong><\/a> magazine<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Marci: In high school, I spent my summers in the foothills of the Sierras with my grandmother, in a little town near Yosemite National Park called Bass Lake. My freshman year, I went along with her church on a mission trip to Mexico. That\u2019s how I met John. 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