The Universal Hunger for Belonging

What is it about belonging that stirs something so primal within us? Across continents and centuries, the quest for connection has driven human stories, shaping civilizations and anchoring personal identities. Psychologists argue that belonging sits at the core of human existence, nestled between the primal need for survival and the higher aspiration for self-actualisation. ?Sociologists point to it as the glue that binds communities, while theologians often frame it as the ultimate yearning—to be united with something greater than ourselves.

This longing manifest itself differently for everyone. For some, it finds expression in sacred rituals and communal worship; for others, in the rhythms of a daily routine shared with loved ones. Yet, in its essence, it speaks to the same universal truth: to be human is to seek connection. It is a longing for spaces where we are seen, accepted, and held, not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally. It is a hunger we often suppress in the noise of modern life, only for it to resurface when the stillness of our soul forces us to confront its ache.

This was the state of mind in which I found myself on the first Sunday of the new year. Our family had been invited to the local church, a gesture that seemed innocuous, but felt deeply significant. For years, my relationship with the church had been strained, marked by a silent drift that I rarely examined. Yet, as the invitation arrived, it felt less like a casual call and more like an echo from a forgotten part of me, a call to return, to reconnect, to belong once again.

On the way to the service, a quiet apprehension settled over me. Memories of hymns and sermons flickered in my mind, tangled with the doubts and disillusionment that had driven me away. I turned to music to stabilise myself, only to hear an old hymn that seemed to rise from the depths of my subconscious.

"Pela hao ha ke fihla o se ke wa nteleka. Wena lefika la ka ke tshabetse ho wena." (“When I arrive in Your presence, do not turn me away; you are my rock; I run to You for refuge.”)

The words, a plea for divine refuge, filled the car, the melody vibrating with a longing that I hadn’t felt in years.

Arriving at the church, we were greeted with a warmth that felt both familiar and foreign. Hands reached out to welcome us, smiles radiated across faces, and the murmurs of greetings and laughter wrapped around us like a comforting embrace. It was as if we had returned to a long-lost family, one that had been waiting patiently for our return.

The service began, and with it came the melodies of hymns I thought I had forgotten. They washed over me like a gentle tide, their harmonies weaving through the congregation, uniting us in a shared rhythm of faith. The scripture of the day spoke of grace and forgiveness—a resounding declaration that stirred something within me: a reminder of the strength that comes from a deep connection with the divine. It was a call not only to faith but also to action, to live with purpose and conviction.

As I left the church that day, I carried with me not just a sense of having attended a service, but a profound whisper of belonging. The experience reminded me that even in our moments of greatest distance, there remains an enduring thread pulling us back to what matters most: the shared heartbeat of community and connection. Perhaps we are all like wandering pilgrims, drawn by an unspoken desire to find refuge in the embrace of something greater than ourselves. And perhaps the greatest grace of all is this: that belonging is always there, waiting for us to return, no matter how far we may have strayed.