How do we get through Christmas when there is an empty chair?
- Heather Bradley
- Dec 11, 2025
- 6 min read
If the holidays feel heavy this year, I just want to say this right up front:
You’re not crazy. You’re not “too emotional.” You’re not failing Christmas. You’re grieving. And grief and glitter don’t always mix very well.
We see the twinkling lights, hear the songs, watch everyone post their matching pajama pictures—and meanwhile, our hearts are saying:
“Someone is missing. This will never be the same.”
If that’s you, you are so seen. I know this feeling all too well.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”— Psalm 34:18
He’s not far off, waiting for you to “cheer up.” He’s near. Right now. In this.
My Octobers and the Christmases That Followed
I don’t write this as someone looking at grief from the outside. I’ve lived it deep.
In October of 1999, my son died at 4 months old of a heart attack.Two months later, it was Christmas.
I still remember standing in the middle of all the decorations and thinking, How are we supposed to do this? The world had kept spinning, but mine had shattered.
We went through the motions—the tree, the presents, the stockings—because I had a daughter who still needed Christmas. I smiled for pictures. I wrapped gifts. I did the mom things. But inside, it wasn’t “the most wonderful time of the year.” It was survival. It was surreal.
And then, years later, October came for my heart again.
My mom passed away in October of 2023.Another Christmas without someone I loved.
No gifts from her. No Bingo tradition the way she did it. No million gifts under the tree from Grammy. No “Merry Christmas”, in her voice. Just this quiet sadness sitting at the table where she should’ve been.
Then, my Dad went into the hospital the week before Christmas and passed on January 6, 2025.
It felt like the holidays and loss had become tangled together in my story.Once again, we did the traditions. We cooked the food. We did the family gatherings for the kids—because they needed stability and memories. But for me, honestly?
It was just getting through.
Maybe you know that feeling too. The “I’m here, but my heart is somewhere else” kind of Christmas. Let’s just get this over with feeling.
This year, for me, feels a little bit easier. Time with Jesus really does soften some of the sharp edges. But here’s what I’ve learned:
It will never be exactly the same.And that’s okay to say out loud.
We’re allowed to miss what was and still receive what God is doing right now.
Why Holidays Hurt So Much After Loss
Grief shows up all year, but the holidays turn the volume up.
Every tradition reminds you of before.
Every Christmas card shows families looking “whole” and happy.
Every “Merry Christmas!” can sting a little when your heart feels anything but merry.
The world shouts, “Joy! Cheer! Wonder!”And your soul whispers, “Jesus, just help me breathe.”
If that’s where you are, you’re not broken. You’re just human. And grief is actually evidence of love.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil, for you are with me…”— Psalm 23:4
We’re not meant to pretend the valley isn’t real. We’re meant to remember we’re not walking it alone.
Emmanuel: God With Us
At Christmas we love to say “Emmanuel”—God with us.
We picture that in the pretty moments: the candlelight service, the worship, the kids in their little church outfits. But I’ve learned He is just as much God with us in the messy moments too.
He is God with you when:
You’re crying in the bathroom between gatherings
You’re driving home in silence, trying to hold it together
You’re sitting at a table, staring at a chair that used to be full
“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel (which means, God with us).”— Matthew 1:23
That’s not a Christmas card slogan. That’s a lifeline.
And He doesn’t just understand from a distance. Jesus Himself is called:
“…a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief…”— Isaiah 53:3
Your Savior knows what it is to hurt, to weep, to feel loss. You are not bringing anything to Him that He hasn’t carried.
Am I Allowed to Be Sad and Celebrate?
Let’s talk about that awkward tension we don’t always say out loud:
“Can I love Jesus, love Christmas, and still feel this sad?Can I laugh one moment and cry the next? Is that okay?”
Yes. A thousand times yes.
With Jesus, you are allowed to hold both.
You are allowed to:
Laugh at the kids’ silliness and then cry later in your room
Enjoy a moment and still deeply ache for the one who isn’t there
Say yes to some things and no to others
Leave early if it’s too much
Change traditions to fit this new season
Grief does not mean you’re ungrateful. Joy does not mean you’re “over it.”
You can hold sorrow and hope in the same heart.
“…sorrowful, yet always rejoicing…”— 2 Corinthians 6:10
Isn’t that such an honest description of life with Jesus in a broken world?
Ways to Honor Your Loved One This Christmas
Sometimes we’re afraid to say their name because we don’t want to make others sad. But often, remembering them brings a kind of bittersweet comfort.
Here are a few simple ideas you can pray through:
1. Light a Candle or Save a Seat
Have a special candle at the table and say something like:
“This candle is for the ones we love who are celebrating with Jesus today.”
It doesn’t have to be dramatic. Just a reminder: they’re not forgotten.
I have a special ornament I hang every year on our Christmas tree to include my son.
2. Tell Stories
You could go around and ask,
“What’s one favorite memory with ___?”
Yes, tears might come. But so might laughter. That mix is sacred.
3. Carry a “Legacy Tradition”
Did they have a favorite dessert, movie, etc? Bake their pie. Watch their movie. Play their song. Name it.
“This was Mom’s favorite Christmas candy.”
“This is the Christmas movie Dad always fell asleep watching.”
It keeps their fingerprint in the rhythm of your family.
4. Serve in Their Honor
Give, serve, or bless someone in a way that reflects their heart.
Adopt a family
Give to a ministry
Take a meal to someone lonely
Do it as a way of saying, “Their love is still flowing through us.”
“…it is more blessed to give than to receive.”— Acts 20:35
5. Make Room to Feel
Actually schedule some quiet space. A walk. A drive. A few minutes alone with Jesus.
You might simply pray, “Lord, this hurts.” That’s a real prayer.
“Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.”— 1 Peter 5:7
You don’t have to dress it up. Honest is enough.
When You Feel Like You “Should Be Over It”
If you’ve ever thought, “I should be better by now” or “People are probably tired of hearing about this,” I get it.
Grief doesn’t come with an expiration date.The world might move on quickly, but God doesn’t rush your heart.
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”— Lamentations 3:22–23
New mercy. Every morning. For as long as you need it.
And one day—on a very real day on God’s calendar—this will be true:
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more…”— Revelation 21:4
We’re not there yet. But that day is coming. Until then, we live in the in-between with a God who sits with us in our tears and promises to finish what He started.
Pray With Me:
Jesus, The holidays are hard this year. You see the empty chair, the missing voices, the ache I can’t even put into words.Thank You that You are Emmanuel—God with me—not just in the pretty parts, but in the painful ones too.I invite You into my grief, my memories, my tears, my celebrations. Show me where to say yes and where it’s okay to say no. Give me courage to honor the ones I miss and still receive the good You’re placing in front of me. Hold my heart together when it feels like it’s falling apart. Thank You that one day, You will wipe away every tear. Until that day, be my comfort, my strength, and my steady hope. Amen.
A Tiny Step You Can Take Today
If you’re walking through this right now, here’s one small, doable thing:
Grab a journal or the notes app on your phone and write:
One thing you miss about your loved one.
One way you might honor their memory this Christmas.
One honest sentence to Jesus about how you’re really doing.
That’s it. No pressure to be “strong” or “spiritual enough.”Just you, your heart, and Jesus. He can work with that.
In Him,
Heather Bradley
Author of Unthinkable-Taking the hand of Jesus trough pain and suffering into a life of freedom and purpose. Get your copy on Amazon!
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