Adventures in missing the point

I am a lousy communicator sometimes.

I have an emotion (or bundle of emotions) that I've been trying to describe for some time. I keep failing.

It seems that as humans we are wired to search. At least I am wire to search. To seek. To quest. To desire more. To wait for "something." To long for "something."

This is built into my very nature.

"I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

Truth is--when (if) I do find something...I'll just find something else for which to search.

These are variations on a theme. A while back I tried describing myself in terms of "homesickness". I think it's the same thing.

I believe we're wired to crave a wholeness and completion that is unavailable in this world--at least unavailable in any sustainable sense. Yes, there are transcendent moments of joy--spiritual ecstasy and the like. But they don't last.

We always end up back in normal life. Fundamentally alone (even if married, etc), trying to find our way toward meaning or whatever it is we're searching for.

So my suspicious question is this: if I know I cannot be satisfied, why then do I continue seeking?

(this relates to dating, sure. And to theology. And to jobs. And to travel goals, friendships, life plans, etc.).

The funny phrase I keep telling myself is that I'm "sick and tired."

Homesick, and tired of searching.

And yet I'm built to long for heaven and wired to consume, to acquire, to build (friendships, love, experiences, etc....I'm deliberately not using "consume" with a negative connotation).

Does this make any sense?

More specifically, in terms of relationship I realize that I want nothing short of miracle.

What kind of life is it when you're waiting on a miracle?