#FaKebookFriday – Sandball Fight, Tribal Tats, and Grace

I haven’t shared a #FaKebookFriday in a really long time… maybe it’s because I just couldn’t bare to poke fun at myself quite yet. Remember, I mentioned things were a little shaky there for a while. Truth be told, sometimes they still are… such is life.

However, I do miss giggling as punch the keys to share the story behind the pic with you, and isn’t summer just a breeding ground for the best ever #FaKebook photos?

I mean seriously, I scroll through social media and people are just perfectly posed doing all the wonderful summer things… like take eating popsicles for example; you know those clothes got stained, the kids had a sugar rush, and ants, they probably got ants.

That said… here is our #FaKebookFriday for today:


  • We left the house this particular afternoon where it was sunny and gorgeous and found ourselves at a gloomy/chilly beach. Apparently, June gloom is no joke and I didn’t pack sweatshirts because it was summer and we were headed to the beach. Freezing children… strike one.
  • When the boys heard we were headed to the beach they decided to draw tribal tattoos on themselves so they could play Maui (from Moana). Of course this urgently had to be done while I was in the shower and when I came out I discovered this madness, I reminded them that we only write on paper blah, blah, blah… time to get loaded up. When we got all set up at our spot and I was lathering them with sunscreen I stupidly asked where they found the marker. Ignorance was bliss. It was a sharpie! Unfortunately the deprived children could only find a permanent marker. Guys, tribal tats for days and days… strike two.
  • My Colorado children had to learn the difference between sand and snow the hard way. It was all fun and games when they were making sand angels and sandmen (think snowman) but things took a turn when I found myself yelling absurd things like… “you do not have permission to throw sandballs at each other” and upon flushing out one hysterical child’s eye… strike three.

You’re outta there.

No really, the sand fight was the last straw. There were plenty of disregarded warnings, so we loaded up and went home. I was pretty frustrated on the car ride back.

Not exactly the story one would assume based on the perfectly posed picture, right?

However, now as I put myself in the place of an observer I am cracking up… freezing children trying to enjoy the beach, while covered in Sharpie marker, making sand angels and conducting a sandball fight. I think it’s fair to say that we didn’t blend in with the locals that day.

So the “before” picture would be an adorably posed group of kiddos ready for some beach fun, the “during” photo would be the one I just painted for you with my words, and the “after” photo would be of redemption and grace.

You see, the best part of the day was the drive home. We talked mostly about the sand fight and the damage it could have done to an eyeball. I realized they really just didn’t know. You’d think that the sand angels and sandman would have been my first clue, but hey, sometimes I can be a slow learner. There were deep and sincere apologies coming from the back seat and that’s when a line from last Sunday’s sermon popped into my head… “A story of redemption always trumps a picture of perfection.” The sermon was pertaining more to the overall picture of parenthood/life but it seemed applicable in the small stuff too.

I knew what I had to do… When we got home we de-sanded ourselves, ate some dinner, and left all the drama on the beach. We reset our hearts and attitudes and made the most of the evening we had left. We talked about grace and forgiveness, we talked about first time obedience and the medical dangers of sand in the eye, but best of all we were just together having fun like originally intended but now with blood shot eyes, tribal tattoos, and softened hearts.

When my kids look back on this photo (in their theoretical photo album) I hope they don’t see a picture of a perfect day at the beach but instead remember a story of redemption and grace.

It’s never too late to dust the sand off and start over.

Do you have any #FaKebook pictures or stories to share? I would love to hear them! Comment below or over on Facebook! Trust me, it feels good to laugh at yourself every once in a while.

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3 thoughts on “#FaKebookFriday – Sandball Fight, Tribal Tats, and Grace

  1. Oh Christen, I have missed your Fakebook posts. Your writing makes it easy to visualize the antics of your precious angels. I’m laughing with you, not at you!