I've never been homeless. But I've volunteered at a homeless shelter on a regular basis when I was in grad school, and I've felt spiritually homeless before.
One of the things about being homeless is that you're limited in how much stuff you can bring with you. You have to haul it around, using what you need each night and praying you don't forget something important before you leave the next morning.
So we're still church homeless. While we've got a rotation of church "couches" to crash on and even have figured out ways to use our gifts, we can't exactly unpack our luggage or get "comfortable" in a congregation.
It feels a little like we're the Israelites, wandering in the desert. I know God is bringing us somewhere, and I'm trying to not complain on the the way...but it's really hard. It's especially hard with kids in tow. We still haven't formally dedicated Hope, and Henry is probably ready to be baptised...if we had a place to do such things.
Sigh. Hopefully it won't take us 40 years to reach the promised land...