Category Archives: Photography

The Shoreham Cross

In Memoriam

(A four minute read – originally published December 2020)

It’s not every day one sees a giant cross overhanging a valley. When it burst into view as we walked up the River Darent, we stopped in our tracks. But that comes at the end of the story, not the beginning.

The beginning of the story was the Great War.

Men suited up and shipped out, knowing death might await them. We remember them now: the sons, the brothers, the fathers, the friends.

Some of the elderly among us undoubtedly remember specific ones. Perhaps he was a grandfather or someone more removed by blood, yet perhaps even one whose hand they once held.

For us younger ones, they are pictures in dusty albums, whispering their stories in quiet voices that drown out the thunder of the cannon that flung death across the blasted wastelands of Verdun and the Somme.

They whisper to us from Flanders fields, from the names etched on a hundred cenotaphs. Far away in memory, but still close to the heart.

As an American living in Britain, I’m touched by these memorials in perhaps a different way than the native-born. I moved from a nation that celebrates its patriotism in arguably vulgar fashion to one that lives comfortably within its own history. It’s quite a shift. For me, every walk here is a walk back through time.

An unusually chilly October Saturday found my wife Melanie and me paying our respects at St. Peter & St. Paul’s Church in Shoreham to kick off a weekend ramble. It’s astonishing and humbling to stand in a place full of 800 years of prayer.


St. Peter and St. Paul’s held the runway for our ramble: A brickwork walkway; a corridor through trees sheltering the cemetery.

Shoreham is not on the shore; it’s in the middle of Kent, 50 miles from the Channel. As we walk, we travel further back in time as we head uphill through Dunstall Woods. The name seems Saxon: Dunn staell, probably ‘brown building’. Just like Shoreham: scor ham, possibly ‘dwelling at the foot of a steep slope’, that same slope now graced by a memorial cross.

OS Maps showed us more history descending to the river: a tumulus, a Roman villa site and where a Palace once stood. I was sad about stupidly forgetting the lunch, but pleased that a fine Otford establishment was open to give us fare.

It was full of steam, hot coffee and the type of conversation that’s an eavesdropper’s dream. Small towns are the same the world over. Full of intertwined lives and drama to match. There are no secrets there.

That reality undergirds the memories, and explains the memorials. Lives intertwined.


We lingered, thinking on the loved ones’ blood spilled for freedom: earthly freedom in a free land, and our heavenly freedom in Christ.

Let us never forget man’s sacrifice, nor the Son of Man’s. Ours may change history; His changed eternity.

Photo of soldier: Library of Congress, Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons

round mirror

Seen About Town

I have a habit of taking pictures of things on the floor, perched on fences, tacked on trees. Who knows why? Perhaps the eye is drawn to visual metaphor as the mind is to written ones.

London is a great place for this with nine million people’s worth of detritus fluttering down.

Enjoy the whimsey.

Cover Photo by Ethan Sees via Pexels

My Redding Commute

[Editors note: From September 2017 to May 2018 I was a student at Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry in Redding California and commuted to school on foot. These pictures were gathered along the way.]


May these images provide a meditative experience for you, and enhance your pleasure from the Scriptures.

sidewalk crack

No one shall be weary or stumble among them; no one shall slumber or sleep; neither shall the girdle of their loins be loosed, nor the strap of their shoes be broken – Isaiah 5:27 (MEV)


The thief comes only in order to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance [to the full, till it overflows]. -John 10:10 (AMP)

storm drain

Fountains of the Deep

Do What Thou Wilt

Do What Thou Wilt


Holy Laughter


Crown of Thorns

crime watch

The Narrow Way


Bigger than a Mustard Seed


In the middle of its street, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. – Rev 22:2 (NKJV)


Would you terrify a leaf blown by the wind? Would you chase dry straw? – Job 13:25 (NLT)


Hold on to the pattern of wholesome teaching you learned from me—a pattern shaped by the faith and love that you have in Christ Jesus. – 2 Timothy 1:13 (NLT)