We stood in the gravel driveway by the ranch gate and cried. My wife and I embraced our best friends and wept because we knew that this moment was the last one we would share in this sweet season of life. We had laughed together, cried together and cared for one another. We had shared holidays and made new traditions together. We were some of the first to visit the hospital when our first children were born. We had worshiped together, served together and learned together. We were family.

And we met in Sunday School.

That was 19 years ago. We don’t get to see our friends like we wish we could because of distance and time. Living three states away creates a hurdle that is difficult to cross but the depth of relationship developed in those three years together easily overcomes geography. We’ve watched each other’s children grow via the internet and social media. We’ve shared prayer concerns and celebrations through email and phone calls. We’ve seen our families grow and change and we’ve seen God do wonderful things through both victories and trial.

And we met in Sunday School.

I miss my friends dearly. We are planning a trip this summer to visit them. We’ll load up our seven to make the trip to go see their five. They live one state closer now so, the trip will seem shorter but still too long. It’s the the kind of long that never seems to end because of anticipation of what is at the end if the journey. The same kind of anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. I can’t wait.

And just maybe, we’ll go to Sunday School.

Who are you living life with?