Join Tim and his eleven-year-old son Elliot for a month of sacred reading — a journey that begins with a mustard seed and ends on a pebble-strewn beach in North Norfolk.

What starts as classic Lectio Divina soon widens into something bigger: meditating on Bible stories, listening for meaning in His Dark Materials, tuning in to birdsong in a pine forest, and reading the shifting shapes of clouds and trees. Along the way, Elliot struggles with boredom, Tim wrestles with silence, and together they stumble into moments of wonder and humour.

There are painted pebbles left for strangers, an anti-war poem crafted from museum signs, a quiz involving talking donkeys, and a reminder that sometimes the most ordinary things — dust, seeds, birds, background noise — have something to say if we pay attention.
Through scripture, stories and landscapes, father and son explore how meaning emerges when we slow down, look closely, and let the world speak back.

If you’re enjoying Homegrown Faith and want to support what we’re doing, you can head over to our Patreon page for bonus episodes and a bit of behind-the-scenes goodness.

If signing up isn’t your thing but you’d still like to send some encouragement our way, a quick rating or review on your podcast app makes a big difference.

Since the podcast is all audio, if you’d like to see what we’ve been up to, you can find photos and little glimpses of our journey over on Instagram and Facebook.

And if you’d like to share your own experiences, ask us a question, or suggest a practice for a future episode, you can drop Tim an email here.
Like the podcast, our theme music is also homegrown—written by Elliot and produced by our friend Wilderthorn.

It’s hard to believe, but Homegrown Faith is one year old!


So this month, Tim and Elliot look back over twelve months of exploring spiritual practices together — from gratitude and Sabbath to activism, nature connection and pilgrimage.

There are stories of sawing coconuts, disassembling Hi-Fis, and holy moments found in bird song, sea air, and the world’s most transcendent ice cream. There’s laughter (mainly at Mum’s expense), a “Guess the Practice” quiz, and reflections on how faith and family life have quietly evolved through a year of shared experiment.

Along the way, they discover that spirituality doesn’t need to be confined to church walls — it can be found in car boot fields, forest glades, and messy kitchen tables.
Because sometimes the sacred hides in the most unexpected places.

This special anniversary conversation is also being shared on Nomad Podcast’s main feed.

If you’re enjoying Homegrown Faith and want to support what we’re doing, you can head over to our Patreon page for bonus episodes and a bit of behind-the-scenes goodness.

If signing up isn’t your thing but you’d still like to send some encouragement our way, a quick rating or review on your podcast app makes a big difference.

Since the podcast is all audio, if you’d like to see what we’ve been up to, you can find photos and little glimpses of our journey over on Instagram and Facebook.

And if you’d like to share your own experiences, ask us a question, or suggest a practice for a future episode, you can drop Tim an email here.

Like the podcast, our theme music is also homegrown—written by Elliot and produced by our friend Wilderthorn.

Join Tim and his ten-year-old son Elliot as they set off on a two-part pilgrimage — one ancient, one modern — in search of something sacred.

From tidal crossings to priory ruins, caves of silence to cathedrals of grandeur, they trace the footsteps of saints like Aidan and Cuthbert across the Northumbrian landscape. Then, swapping caves for tents and saints for circus acts, they head to the Greenbelt Festival, where 10,000 fellow pilgrims gather for music, communion, and churros.

Along the way, Tim reflects on the tension between simplicity and spectacle, and Elliot names the real highlight: ice cream. Together they explore what it means to belong, to travel with intention, and to seek God not just in holy places — but in shared meals, messy moments, and each other.

With prayers, poems, soundscapes and silliness, they ask: what if pilgrimage isn’t about where you go, but how you pay attention on the way?