Admit it. You still love the ’80s. And the ’90s. And remember Y2K.

Whether you are a child of the decade known for big hair, the Simpsons generation or you’ve never seen a pay-phone in real life, we’re going to celebrate the last 30 years to the max. Join us as we journey through the decades to the rad beginning of Granger Community Church in 1986. We’re moon-walking back through 30 years of great hair, good music and changed lives.

Admit it. You still love the ’80s. And the ’90s. And remember Y2K.

Whether you are a child of the decade known for big hair, the Simpsons generation or you’ve never seen a pay-phone in real life, we’re going to celebrate the last 30 years to the max. Join us as we journey through the decades to the rad beginning of Granger Community Church in 1986. We’re moon-walking back through 30 years of great hair, good music and changed lives.

Admit it. You still love the ’80s. And the ’90s. And remember Y2K.

Whether you are a child of the decade known for big hair, the Simpsons generation or you’ve never seen a pay-phone in real life, we’re going to celebrate the last 30 years to the max. Join us as we journey through the decades to the rad beginning of Granger Community Church in 1986. We’re moon-walking back through 30 years of great hair, good music and changed lives.

Why is it that the people we love the most are often the ones who drive us the craziest? (Hi, kids!) How do we thrive in the tension that comes from parenting with love—and survive the aftermath of enforcing healthy boundaries and discipline?

Whether you’re ankle-deep in teething toddlers or drowning in the friendship drama of middle schoolers or the boundary-defying mysteries of teenage life, there is a way through. Don’t live as a house divided.

Why is it that the people we love the most are often the ones who drive us the craziest? (Hi, kids!) How do we thrive in the tension that comes from parenting with love—and survive the aftermath of enforcing healthy boundaries and discipline?

Whether you’re ankle-deep in teething toddlers or drowning in the friendship drama of middle schoolers or the boundary-defying mysteries of teenage life, there is a way through. Don’t live as a house divided.

Why is it that the people we love the most are often the ones who drive us the craziest? (Hi, kids!) How do we thrive in the tension that comes from parenting with love—and survive the aftermath of enforcing healthy boundaries and discipline?

Whether you’re ankle-deep in teething toddlers or drowning in the friendship drama of middle schoolers or the boundary-defying mysteries of teenage life, there is a way through. Don’t live as a house divided.

Why is it that the people we love the most are often the ones who drive us the craziest? (Hi, kids!) How do we thrive in the tension that comes from parenting with love—and survive the aftermath of enforcing healthy boundaries and discipline?

Whether you’re ankle-deep in teething toddlers or drowning in the friendship drama of middle schoolers or the boundary-defying mysteries of teenage life, there is a way through. Don’t live as a house divided.

This just isn’t working. Marriage is hard. Should it be this hard? Is this normal? I wanted to get married to be part of something greater than myself; to have someone to laugh with, build a life with and to invest myself into something more lasting than—myself. I never expected to be here, but here I am. I want a new marriage.

Speaker: Doug Fields

This just isn’t working. Marriage is hard. Should it be this hard? Is this normal? I wanted to get married to be part of something greater than myself; to have someone to laugh with, build a life with and to invest myself into something more lasting than—myself. I never expected to be here, but here I am. I want a new marriage.

This just isn’t working. Marriage is hard. Should it be this hard? Is this normal? I wanted to get married to be part of something greater than myself; to have someone to laugh with, build a life with and to invest myself into something more lasting than—myself. I never expected to be here, but here I am. I want a new marriage.