The Empty Chair at Christmas: Choosing Curiosity over Judgement

Maybe you are that person who sits alone in a crowd of relatives at the dining room table,

oblivious to what anyone is saying, because all you can focus on is the one who isn’t at the table.

Nothing makes the hurt sharper than that empty chair at Christmas time…

Family estrangement isn't some minor emotional issue we can brush aside anymore—it's a full-blown national crisis affecting millions. According to research from Cornell University, nearly one-third of Americans are estranged from a close family member. Most of the time, it's partial estrangement—limited contact, strained ties, relationships that feel broken even if they're not completely severed.

Research shows us that fathers face this more often than mothers, but mothers carry the heavier burden of pain. It hits them with depression, a real loss of purpose, and a deep, lingering loneliness.

Oprah Winfrey recently called estrangement a "silent epidemic," drawing attention to adult children going "no-contact" with parents and siblings. But her comments struck a nerve. Tania Khazaal, a coach who speaks out against cutoff culture, responded on social media: "Now Oprah is shocked by the aftermath of estrangement after promoting it for decades." Her point? Society has normalized walking away from hard relationships in the name of self-care, without counting the spiritual and relational cost.

In parallel, a growing chorus of mothers are saying they’re done being doormats. In a Wall Street Journal piece, Elizabeth Bernstein highlights how these women are no longer begging for reconciliation. They’re pushing back with a defiant message: "We weren’t bad parents. This is the kid’s fault." Many of these women offer Christian perspectives, identifying estrangement not just as trauma, but spiritual warfare: "The devil has stolen these godless children."

So, what should believers do in the face of estrangement—especially at Christmas, the season that should draw us closer?

Scripture, Not Culture, Offers the Only Answer

It may be tempting to shout back, draw lines in the sand, or permanently close the door on the child who broke your heart. But for those who follow Christ, Scripture gives us the only pathway to peace. James 1:19 (NIV) pleads with us: "Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry." Proverbs 18:2 warns: "Fools find no pleasure in understanding but delight in airing their own opinions." These verses aren’t abstract wisdom; they are survival tools for parents navigating the challenges of estrangement.

This is where the phrase "Be curious, not judgmental" becomes a lifeline. Judgment is easy. It makes us feel in control. It offers closure, however temporary. But curiosity invites humility and healing. It asks questions instead of assigning blame. It pauses long enough to wonder: "What might I be missing? What pain might they be carrying? What can I learn, even if I never get an apology?"

And here’s the deeper truth: Jesus modeled this kind of curiosity over judgment again and again. With the woman at the well, the tax collector Zacchaeus, even the woman caught in adultery—He never rushed to condemn. He asked, He listened, He drew near. Then He spoke truth in love. "Neither do I condemn you," Jesus said. "Go now and leave your life of sin" (John 8:11 NIV).

This approach isn’t soft. It’s sacred. And it’s costly.

Don’t Be a Doormat. But Don’t Be a Pharisee Either

Yes, some parents are drawing healthy boundaries. They’re done groveling. That’s wise. But there’s a difference between strength and spiritual pride. The research shows something sobering: older adults, especially those with strong religious beliefs, are often the most judgmental in spiritual contexts, especially when it comes to violations of family norms and moral values. That means those of us who are most committed to our faith may also be the quickest to condemn.

But we serve a God who is "compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness" (Exodus 34:6 NIV). Are we reflecting that heart, or only rehearsing our hurt?

This Christmas, let’s not be the older brother in the prodigal son story, standing outside the celebration, arms crossed in resentment. Let’s be the father, watching the road with hopeful eyes, even if the wait is long.

An Invitation to Shift

For seven days, try this practice: each time you feel a judgmental thought about your estranged child (or parent), pause and ask, "What else could be true here?" Let Scripture interrupt your assumptions. Let the Holy Spirit challenge your narrative. Don’t try to solve the whole relationship in your head. Just trade judgment for one curious, Spirit-led question.

Estrangement may not resolve overnight. It may never fully reconcile. But by choosing curiosity rooted in Scripture, you open a door for peace—first in your own heart, and possibly someday, in your family.

This Christmas, let’s stop listening to cultural scripts and start living the Word. Let’s refuse both victimhood and condemnation. Let’s be people of grace, curiosity, and quiet strength. The manger reminds us: God didn’t write us off. He came close.

May we do the same.

With hope in Christ,

P.S. If you have a comment or prayer request, contact me here: or call me and leave a message at 1-800-811-2387. And be sure to join me tomorrow through Friday on our new podcast Spiritually Fit Today.