by Father Patrick Longalong
Three years ago, around this time of the year, a man who often comes by to talk about his spiritual life sat with me in the rectory. He was going through a major transition. He was finally retiring and had made plans to move down to North Carolina. Everything was set. Boxes packed, details arranged.
He even asked me to bless his car before the long drive down.
But as the day got closer, something shifted. He admitted that instead of feeling excitement, he felt unsettled. He said he did not know what the next chapter of his life was going to look like. It was an honest moment, the kind that is not dramatic but very real. Because even when a change is good and long anticipated, there is still that space in between. Something has ended, but the new beginning has not fully taken shape.
We see something similar in the disciples after the Ascension. They know everything has changed because of Jesus, but they are not yet out in the world preaching. Instead, they return to the Upper Room, and Scripture tells us that they “devoted themselves with one accord to prayer.” There is no detailed plan yet, no clear direction. What they do have is a shared decision to remain together and stay rooted in prayer.
What stands out is their willingness to remain. They do not rush ahead or try to force clarity. They stay where they are, trusting that God is at work even if they cannot yet see how things will unfold. This is often the difficult part for us. When we find ourselves in that in-between space, we want answers right away. We want something concrete to hold on to. Yet the invitation is to stay close to the Lord and not move away from Him simply because things are unclear.
This kind of waiting carries meaning. In the Gospel, Jesus speaks about eternal life as knowing the Father. This relationship is not something reserved for later; it begins now. In that Upper Room, the disciples are not just waiting for instructions. They are deepening their relationship with the Lord, who will guide them forward. Their waiting becomes a time of grounding, of being formed from within.
I remember telling that man that perhaps this was not something he needed to rush through, but something he needed to stay in for a while. It was not easy for him to hear, and it is not easy for any of us. When we stop trying to control the situation, we begin to feel the weight of uncertainty more clearly. There can be discomfort in that, even a kind of quiet suffering.
Here is where St. Peter’s words come into focus. He reminds us to rejoice insofar as we share in the sufferings of Christ. Not because suffering is desirable, but because even those moments become part of our relationship with Him. They are not wasted. They shape us and deepen our trust in ways that easier moments cannot.
A few months later, the man reached out again. He had settled into his new home. Things were not perfect, but there was a sense of peace. He said that, in hindsight, he realized he needed that time of uncertainty more than he expected.
The experience of the Upper Room is not a delay or a pause in life. It is part of how God prepares us. When we remain with Him, even without clear answers, we are being formed for what comes next. And when the moment arrives, we are able to move forward, not because we have everything figured out, but because we have learned to trust the One who leads us.
Father Longalong is the pastor of Our Lady of Lourdes, Queens Village, and coordinator of the Ministry to Filipino Immigrants.