When You Miss Your Child at the Holidays — How to Find Peace
What if the empty chair didn’t just remind you of what’s missing, but also of what remains?
This holiday season, what if the empty chair didn’t only remind you of what’s missing but also of what still remains? What if that space became a sacred reminder of love that can’t be broken and a life that heaven is still holding?
Every year when the holidays come around, there’s one moment that seems to stop everything — the moment we notice the empty chair. It doesn’t matter if it’s the chair at the table, in the family photo, or just a quiet place that used to hold laughter.
It kind of takes our breath away, doesn’t it?
All of us try to avoid that moment because to feel it is just too hard. We often think the busier we are, the better it will be — that maybe we can make the ache a little smaller. But really, all it does is create more exhaustion and disconnection.
It isn’t until we finally stop running from it and sit down beside it, letting the silence be what it is, that we begin to sense the Lord reminding us He sees every tear we cry.
“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” — Psalm 56:8 (NLT)
Even when you feel most alone, friend, you are not. That verse teaches us something about the heart of God. It reminds us that our grief is not forgotten — that every tear we cry over our child is known and held by a God who understands exactly how deep this ache runs.
And even more than that, He promises the ache won’t last forever:
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” — Revelation 21:4 (NLT)
That’s what your child is experiencing right now. But would you believe me if I told you that could be true for you, too — that while your feet are still here on this earth, God can begin to wipe away your tears even now?
That’s where our hope lives — in knowing we’ll see our child again. It’s the promise of that day when the empty chair won’t be empty anymore. But until then, that space can remind us of two things: how deeply we love and how near heaven really is.
When You Sit Beside the Empty Chair
We tend to think heaven is a far-off place, but heaven lives inside of you, friend.
When we face the empty chair, it’s easy to only see what’s missing because we see everything through our earthly eyes. But I’m inviting you to look again — to see what remains.
There are three things I’ve learned that help me walk through these moments with peace instead of despair.
Honor the love that still exists.
The empty chair holds more than absence; it holds a love that will never die. You carry that love into every season. It still speaks loudly, even now.
Your child still loves you. Your love continues in heaven. The connection is unbroken — someone you love is there, and someone they love is here.
We often feel pressured to do something special for Thanksgiving or Christmas — as if honoring our child must look big and visible. But friend, it’s not about performance. Sometimes honoring your child means doing something small and deeply personal — saying their name out loud, lighting a candle, or sharing a memory in the middle of family laughter.
When love is remembered, peace finds room to settle in again.
Jesus, the Giver of Peace
“I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” — John 14:27 (NLT)
This is the peace Jesus offers — not someday, but right now. It’s the kind of peace that calms the heart when you sit in His presence and allow His love to meet you there.
When the ache feels too heavy, you can simply say, “Lord, I need You to be with me right now.”
Envision yourself opening the door to His presence. He’s already knocking. Invite Him in and sit with Him for a while. He’s not asking you to say the right words — just to let Him meet you where you are.
Remember when Jesus appeared to Thomas after the resurrection? He didn’t scold him for doubting. He said, “Peace be to you,” and invited Thomas to touch His hands and His side. That’s intimacy. That’s presence.
The most healing thing you can do this season isn’t to fix the pain — it’s to feel it in His presence.
God Doesn’t Turn Away From Your Pain
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” — Psalm 34:18 (NLT)
When you share your sorrow, He doesn’t walk away. He leans in closer.
So the next time you feel that lump in your throat when you see that empty chair, whisper this prayer:
“Lord, I know You’re here. Help me feel Your presence.”
Because He is. Right there. In the silence, in the remembering, and in the love that remains.
Remember With Hope, Not Fear
Remembering your child is not reopening the wound — it’s how you keep walking forward.
Fear says, “If I feel this again, I’ll fall apart.”
But hope says, “This pain is proof of my love.”
Hope says, “My child is more alive than ever.”
Hope says, “God is still writing my story — and my child’s.”
When you remember with hope, your eyes lift from what’s missing to what’s eternal.
“So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” —
2 Corinthians 4:18 (NLT)
Faith, hope, and love — these three things last forever. And love, friend, will always lead you back to peace.
🎧 Listen to the Full Episode
You can listen to this full message on The Grief Mentor Podcast:
Episode 228 — “When You Miss Your Child at the Holidays: How to Find Peace.”
Next Steps
Friend, if your heart feels especially heavy as the holidays approach, I want to help you find peace in the middle of it.
🎁 Holiday Flash Offer — Peace for the Holidays
Through November 22, book a 1:1 Grief Mentor Session and receive my new printable guide:
Peace for the Holidays — A Simple Plan for Grieving Moms.
In our time together, we’ll talk about what this season brings up for you and create a plan that helps you breathe again—one that honors your child and makes space for peace.
👉 Book your session here
💛 Join the Waitlist for The Grief Roadmap
If your heart is whispering that you need community, you’re not alone.
The next round of The Grief Roadmap opens after the first of the year, and the waitlist is now open for both new and returning moms.
When you join, you’ll be the first to know when enrollment begins—and you’ll receive early-access bonuses before the doors open.
👉 Join the waitlist here
You don’t have to face the next season alone. God is already walking with you, and I’d be honored to walk beside you too.
