The holidays promise joy, peace, and togetherness… yet for so many, this season ushers in something else entirely.

If you’re facing the holidays with an empty chair at the table—or an adult child who has chosen distance, silence, or no contact—then friend, this is for you. 

The enemy loves to slip into the shadows of our expectations. He steals joy, drains hope, and whispers lies that turn “the most wonderful time of the year” into something you dread. I know. I’ve lived it.

Today, I want to share a piece of my own story—and five ways you can reclaim joy this holiday season. Not forced joy. Not fake joy. But the kind that rises from an unshakeable place: the presence of Jesus. 

Take a deep breath. You are not alone.

Let’s walk through this together.

When My Holidays Changed Forever

I used to hear people talk about holiday grief and think I understood it. I felt sorry for them—much like I feel sorry for the starving children in Africa after I’ve eaten my third slice of pumpkin pie. My sympathy was real… but I couldn’t taste their hunger.

Until I was 46.

That year, my daughter dismissed us as parents. And for the first time in my life, she didn’t come home for Thanksgiving. I had prepared a beautiful table, set a place for her, and truly believed God had told me she would walk through the door.

But she didn’t.

My family looked at me with a mixture of, “You should’ve known,” and “We hate that this hurts so much.” And afterward, for the very first time… I dreaded Christmas.

Since then, I’ve had several holidays fall painfully short of the “glory” I hoped they’d bring. And I know I’m not alone.

Maybe you’re living that story right now.

Friend, there is hope. God has taught me some hard-won truths about reclaiming joy when estrangement tries to steal it. Let me share five of them with you.

5 Ways to Reclaim Joy When Someone You Love Doesn’t Come Home

1. Give Your Holiday Season to Jesus 

Somewhere along the way, we took Jesus’ birthday and handed it to the elf on a shelf, Santa at the mall, and Amazon on the porch. And when your heart is broken, it’s easy to feel like you have nothing left to celebrate.

But here’s the question I had to ask myself:

Has anything God has done for me through Jesus changed because of what’s going on with my child?

Do you still have salvation?

Are you still heaven-bound?

Does God still promise to meet your needs?

If so… Jesus is still worthy of worship.

Decorate your home.

Play Christmas music.

Hang the lights.

Not for your kids. Not for your spouse.

Do it for Jesus.

And as you do, remember the ways He has held you together this year. Choose worship—even when your emotions don’t line up. Worship is not denial; it’s defiance. It’s choosing God’s truth over the enemy’s lies.

I’ll never forget the Christmas when my friend Melissa buried her baby boy—born on Christmas Day. Two days later at the memorial service, she and her husband stood with hands lifted high, tears streaming… worshipping God. Not because their hearts weren’t shattered—but because He was still worthy.

And He still is. 

2. Include Your Estranged Loved One—Even Without Their Presence

Please hear me: don’t set them a place at the table.

That only heightens disappointment.

Instead, honor them in a way that acknowledges reality and expresses love:

• Write them a letter you may or may not send.

• Send a gift card or their favorite family recipe.

• Buy a gift you would’ve given them—and donate it to a single parent or someone rebuilding their life.

• Keep a journal for grandchildren you’re unable to see, filled with prayers and memories.

• Run a 5K in their honor.

• Plant a tree.

• Paint a rock.

Do something that creates a space for them in your heart without breaking your heart all over again.

Ignoring them doesn’t heal you.

Pretending everything is fine doesn’t help either.

 Holding intentional space?

That helps. 

3. Enjoy the People God Has Given You

 You may be missing someone desperately… but look around:

 Who is with you this year?

 Your other children?

Grandchildren?

Your spouse?

They are a gift.

One year, determined not to let sadness swallow us whole, we took our other two children to Mexico for Christmas. We needed new scenery and fresh memories. We swam, laughed, explored, and yes—we circled up and prayed for their sister. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good, and God met us there.

Ask God to help carry your grief so it doesn’t crush the people who are still in your life.

It’s not that your pain isn’t real—it’s that it’s not meant to be the only thing that’s real.

There’s a verse for us here:

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances;

for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

— 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18

These aren’t suggestions. They’re commands.

And if God commands it, then by His Spirit, it’s possible.

Sometimes you have to act your way into a new way of feeling.

Not by faking it—but by obeying God with your mind and your will, and letting your emotions catch up later.

4. Give a Sacrifice of Praise

When your heart is broken, praise becomes something deeper: a sacrifice.

With every cookie you bake, every ornament you hang, every towel you wash, every present you wrap—you have the opportunity to offer God a sacrifice of praise.

You’re not minimizing your pain. You’re magnifying your God. 

The heartache and loss you’re experiencing this year is an unexpected invitation:

Come learn that God is bigger

and Christmas is greater

than your picture-perfect traditions.

Determine, with God’s help, to:

• Speak words of faith instead of spirals of fear.

• Rest—on purpose—in God’s ability to sustain you.

• Remind yourself that what you see is not all that is going on.

While you’re pressing into Jesus, begging Him to keep you together,

He is working in the heart of your estranged son or daughter. 

Boundaries can’t block out the memories you’ve made together.

No-contact can’t erase the imprint of your love.

And distance can’t outrun the Holy Spirit. 

Your sacrifice of praise is not wasted.

It’s powerful warfare—especially in a season when the enemy wants you to collapse. 

5. Know That God Is Working in You and in Your Son or Daughter

If you are praying, God is working.

And if you’re in a season of estrangement, you can be sure He’s working in that, too.

More and more adult children are cutting off parents these days. Often, it’s connected to real pain: emotional or physical abuse, neglect, trauma, harsh parenting, poor communication, favoritism, or deeply different values.

Past generations tended to “muddle through” those tensions and stay in contact. This generation believes they don’t have to—and many are choosing not to.

That leaves you longing and working for reconciliation,

while they may feel relief and “freedom.”

This is where the Holy Spirit does some of His most important work in us.

Instead of only praying, “Lord, fix my child,”

you can also pray, “Lord, search me.”

Ask Him:

• Is there anything You want to change in me?

• Are there patterns You want to heal, habits You want to transform,

  or blind spots You want to gently reveal?

Wouldn’t you rather the Lover of your soul be the One who brings those things to light?

Ask Him to use this season to grow you into the mother or father your adult child deeply longs for—even if they can’t articulate it or admit it.

As God works on you:

• Cooperate with Him.

• Be gentle, tenderhearted, and kind to the people who are still in relationship with you.

• Let His peace rule over the grief that wants to rule over you.

• Invite Him to deepen your love for the son or daughter who’s hurting you with their absence.

The holidays will come every year.

So as they come this year, ask God to show you others who are hurting just like you. Reach out. Share a cup of coffee, a text, a hug, a prayer. You’ll be amazed how much joy can be recovered when you hurt together.

Mama. Daddy. You’re going to make it. 

His mercies are new every morning.

His faithfulness is great. 

And the angels who first sang “Joy to the world” meant it—

not because they knew everyone would receive the King,

but because the King had come.

You Are Not Abandoned and You Are Not Powerless

Friend, I hope these truths remind you of something the enemy works overtime to make you forget: 

You are not abandoned.

You are not powerless.

Estrangement does not handcuff the Holy Spirit.

Boundaries cannot block reconciliation.

Distance cannot stop God from loving, pursuing, softening, and healing.

If you have family members, coworkers, or friends who are facing the holidays with estranged children or other broken relationships, consider sharing this message—or the companion podcast episode—with them. Sometimes just knowing, “I’m not the only one,” loosens the grip of despair. 

And if you follow along with the Leighann McCoy Podcast, we’ve got something special coming up:

a 5-episode Christmas series—a fictional glimpse into what Mary and Joseph may have experienced on the road to Bethlehem. It’s our gift to you, and our prayer is that God uses it to prepare your heart to celebrate this season with more worship than ever before. 

Until next time, stay close to Jesus… He’s closer than you think. 

A Prayer for When the Holidays Hurt

Father,

You see my heart and You know how much it hurts.

You know the empty seat at my table, the silence where there used to be laughter,

and the ache that swells when I think about the child I’m missing.

Today, I give this holiday season back to You.

I lay down my expectations, my regrets, and my fear of the future.

Jesus, be at the center of my celebration, even if my celebration looks different this year.

Please work in my son’s/daughter’s heart.

Heal what I can’t see. Soften what I can’t reach.

Protect them, pursue them, and draw them to Yourself.

And Lord, work in me too.

Show me anything You want to change, heal, or grow.

Help me to love well the ones who are with me,

and to trust You completely with the one who is not.

I choose, by faith, to rejoice, to pray, and to give thanks,

even in these circumstances—

because You are good, You are faithful, and You are here.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.