Essay: Sehnsucht - The Desire for Homecoming
Sehnsucht — an inconsolable longing for an unknown something; a feeling of sweet melancholy, romantic yearning, and homesickness for another, faraway world.
For me, the bitter part about getting older is the realization that “home” can never be a place; the sweet part about getting older is the realization that home is not here, but rather in heaven.
I have long sought to find a consistent place of stillness, peace, and warmth in my life. Growing up, I was blessed to live in a functional household. My parents loved each other, my sister loved me, and I loved them. My church was a vibrant source of community and friendship. I played soccer for ten years with the same girls from age 4 to 14. I had consistency.
Going into seventh grade, however, this began to change. My family moved homes, so I left my neighborhood soccer team. I tried out for a club team but was cut. I would play soccer in middle school and high school, but never again would it be a place of belonging as it once was. My pretty little universe was faltering.
My church began the process of a messy merger that would ultimately result in my family’s leaving said church. However, before we would leave I would see my beautiful community fall away from my eyes. At the time my family and I left, 3 of the 10 core group members in my grade remained. The place I once felt so known and loved became a community I couldn’t recognize.
How hard it is to weather the waves of change! Consistency is calm. To provide flesh to the theory, consider early-childhood parenting advice from Psychologist M. Scott Peck:
“As a result of the experience of consistent parental love and caring throughout childhood, such fortunate children will enter adulthood not only with a deep internal sense of their own value but also with a deep internal sense of security. All children are terrified of abandonment, and with good reason. This fear of abandonment begins around the age of six months, as soon as the child is able to perceive itself to be an individual, separate from its parents. For with this perception of itself as an individual comes the realization that as an individual it is quite helpless, totally dependent and totally at the mercy of its parents for all forms of sustenance and means of survival. To the child, abandonment by its parents is the equivalent of death.”
Two important derivations emerge. One: that consistent love and affirmation from parents provide value and security (therefore, the inverse is true) Two: humans are seeded with an innate fear of abandonment. Combined, these two points inform humanity’s desire for home. For home is continual safe acceptance.
Let us investigate point one. Why is it that humans desire constant reassurance of our loveliness and worth? Perhaps there are those among us that do not, yet, if we are honest, deep down most of us desire continual streams of praise. This is not entirely our faults. As Americans, we are part of an economic system that esteems and rewards productivity. Our worth amidst this system directly correlates to our achievements, for achievement acknowledges the ability to perform at a higher level than our peers.
High levels of performance creates a sense of distinctness––individualism. Perhaps our desire for achievement and success comes from our own longing to be different, to be unique, to be unforgettable. We long to live on, yet in our hearts of hearts we know that we will soon be forgotten. Our breath is passing, only to be the fuel that gives life to a towering tree. Unlike this strong, stalwart tree, however, humans fade. This Earth, though concrete, is a waiting room. Our souls are sojourners, our bodies are boarders. Achievement and accolade give a false sense of security; they ease the dark night of the soul in which we realize perhaps this place is not our home. Achievement and accolade give us a sense that another soul sees us, our sequestered but ever present fear that we are utterly and completely alone is silences for an interim. As Jean Paul Sartre in his book Existentialism is Humanism put it, “there is no reality except in action. Man is nothing else than his plan; he exists only to the extent that he fulfills himself; he is therefore nothing else than the ensemble of his acts, nothing else than his life.” If action defines existence, then achievement is the confirmation that one’s action matters. Humans long for reassurance of our worth because in hearing praise our souls are briefly satisfied: I have purpose! My lives has meaning! I am more than flesh and bones! But this feeling of contentment passes (often in the very moment we are awarded) and the existential fears creep in with deepening weight.
If achievement is the confirmation that our action is worthy of praise, then acceptance is the confirmation that our social interactions are worthy of praise. I concede that not all people value both of these equally. Some lean heavier towards achievement-based affirmation and others relational-based. Others, want both.
In the early days of existence, acceptance was necessary for survival. As a species, we may be intelligent, but we are not physically very domineering, especially in childhood. Therefore, in order to make it to tomorrow it was crucial that we aligned ourselves with a collective. Along with the instinctive desire for connection, the physiological benefits of an affirming word or even a hug are massive. (Some studies show a 20 second hug from a partner can reduce the risk of cardio-vasular failure.)
From a more psychological/philosophical perspective, group acceptance affirms that an individuals actions and/or choices are deemed generally positive. Abraham Maslow, an American psychologist and creator of the hierarchy of needs, stated that “the needs for safety, belonging, love relations and for respect can be satisfied only by other people, i.e., only from outside the person. This means considerable dependence on the environment. A person in this dependent position cannot really be said to be governing himself, or in control of his own fate. He must be beholden to the sources of supply of needed gratifications….He must be, to an extent, “other-directed,” and must be sensitive to other people’s approval, affection and good will.” Because, according to Maslow, belonging is an inherent need, people are often willing to bend and sway to the demands of the collective. Unlike the stories American media releases, the notion of true individualism is unattractive to the subconscious. Because humans are bound together by an interdependent need for praise, collectivism is inherently more desirable than being reminded of our individuality. Yet, as I mentioned before, there is a part of us that longs to be distinct, memorable, and note-worthy. This internal conflict of interest only elevates our extisential anxieties.
At this point in the essay (brain dump?), let us redirect our focus to home. Habitat for Humanity holds a “meaning of home” contest every year inviting students from all across the globe to craft a creative response to a given prompt. For 2025, I find Ajden’s from Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada to be incredibly profound––especially for a fifth grader.
“A house can be big and strong /Like rocks but a home is a place /That has joy and faithful thoughts. /A house is a place that you /Can ‘buy’ but a home is a place /That you can never say ‘bye’. /A house can have a basement /And staircase but a home is a /Very Welcoming safe place. /A house is a place that can /be bare but a home is a /Place where love is shared. /A house has a roof a floor /And a door but a home/Is a place where joy /Can't expand more. /A house can have fancy /Designs but a home is a /Place where love is made /And shines.”
What is it about this simple poem that hits home? (pun intended) Look at the final stanza: “A house can have fancy designs but a home is a place where love is made and shines.” Yes. When it all boils down to it, humans long to have a place of unconditional love. Humans long for a haven from the sting of rejection and the harsh reality of daily living. To live is to suffer. To love is to delight.
Heaven is humankind’s true home. We were designed for a place where we are fully and unequivocably loved. We were designed to be with our designer who knows our every desire and interest. We were designed for Jesus. We were made for heaven. In Jonathan Edward’s incredibly powerful (and appropriately named) sermon “Heaven Is A World Of Love,” our true home is described beautifully.
Firstly, Edward declares heaven as a world in which no one need strive after achievement as “there in heaven this fountain of love, this eternal three in one, is set open without any obstacle to hinder access to it. There this glorious God is manifested and shines forth in full glory, in beams of love; there the fountain overflows in streams and rivers of love and delight, enough for all to drink at, and to swim in, yea, so as to overflow the world as it were with a deluge of love.” No one must prove themselves worthy of this love. No one must display their qualification to drink from the fount. Love is not scare resource, but one found in abundance.
Secondly, Edwards declares heaven as a world in which none will wonder if they are accepted as “heavenly [beings] will have no doubt of the love of each other. They shall have no fear that the declarations and professions of love are hypocritical; but shall be perfectly satisfied of the sincerity and strength of each other’s affection, as much as if there were a window in every breast, so that everything in the heart could be seen. There shall be no such thing as flattery or dissimulation in heaven, but there perfect sincerity shall reign through all and in all. Every one will be just what he seems to be, and will really have all the love that he seems to have.” Once an individual has made it home to heaven all social anxieties and fears of rejection melt; our hearts will be satisfied by the overwhelming love of our Creator and, in turn, we will be unable to form even the faintest glimmer of dislike.
The beauty of heavenly existence cannot be contained in Edward’s words (he himself admitted his own frustrations regarding his limited ability of expression), yet he identifies the longing in our hearts. We long for worldly achievement and social acceptance because we were made for a realm where we do not have to question our worth. We were designed to be so deeply drowning in the love of the Father that all we long to do is worship Him.
Heaven is our home, but we are not there yet. At times our being will ache with homesickness as Lewis described it in Till We Have Faces: “It almost hurt me . . . like a bird in a cage when the other birds of its kind are flying home . . . to find the place where all the beauty came from—my country, the place where I ought to have been born. The longing for home.” But instead of falling into despair, the Christian can rejoice. For what a gift that He has set eternity in our hearts! It is a constant reminder that the praise, accolades, and acceptance cannot and will not satisfy for our fountain of love is found in heaven. Therefore, as sojourners in the in-between we must daily set our hearts above and seek the God of love.
Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus.