The Empty Seat in the Pew: Letting Our Children Find Their Way to Faith

MaryBeth Eberhard reflects on the sorrow of children leaving the Catholic faith and how Mary teaches parents to surrender, trust, and hope. 

As I sat with a sorrowful heart in Mass the other day, my gaze fell upon the empty seats in our pew. Those seats were once filled with children being passed back and forth, whispered stories to about the stained-glass windows, and gently reminded to watch and listen for Jesus. Now those seats remain bare, a visible reminder that the faith we shared must now become their own. I looked around and wondered if others were suffering this loss too. Were their hearts also heavy with grief?

It is a slippery slope allowing ourselves to think “Where did I go wrong? What did I miss?” It’s heartbreaking to both miss their presence and ache for their souls. But the truth is that we poured so much of ourselves into passing on the beauty and importance of our Catholic faith. I remember our home was always open to seminarians, missionaries, priests, and religious sisters and brothers. These people became like aunts and uncles to my children over the years and their witness has joined ours in living out the joy of being Catholic.

Surrender is hard for mothers. We are used to the doing and giving, yet if you are like me, we want to be the ones to set those boundaries. I will give to the end of the Earth, but I want to control what I give. I often find myself saying to the Lord, "If only I were still changing diapers, nursing, or rocking a baby to sleep. Those are needs I can meet; there are things I can do to solve the problem." Older kids bring bigger problems, or perhaps older kids require deeper surrender.

Letting Go and Letting God

Letting go and allowing our children to develop their own relationships with the world and with the Lord is crucial to their development. God didn’t give me my child so there can be another mini-me in the world; rather, He formed each child in my womb to be His own creation, and I need to get out of the way of that journey. Yet I wonder where my responsibility ends and where God’s mysterious work begins. Perhaps that is the line every parent walks as they learn to let go. Our responsibility doesn’t really end; it just changes, and we must change with it.

We cannot control our children’s actions when they go away to college or move out of the home into adulthood. Will they go to Mass? Will they hold fast to their faith? There is pain in letting go and watching as they struggle with the forces of the world. Sin, temptation, and our own human will work against us — and learning to navigate that is part of the journey. 

I think of how Mother Mary navigated these things: the worry, the letting go. So much was out of her control. I am sure she found comfort in the doing as she nursed Jesus as a babe, carried Him as a child, searched for Him on the road from Jerusalem when He was lost, and brought a need to Him at Cana when they ran out of wine. But beneath the cross she could not stop the soldiers. She could not take the nails away. The sorrow sits deep upon our own hearts as we ponder it. When Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the temple, Simeon prophesied that a sword would pierce her own soul (Luke 2:35). But love has a hidden sword within it for us all.

Watching our children choose a path that separates them from the Lord is painful. We feel the loss and the grief of that seat beside us at being empty (figuratively and literally). We see the effects of their choices leaving them lonely, sad, empty, and searching even if they say they are content, and we feel as if there is nothing we can do. Often words seem to only lead to arguments or accusations.

So what can we do? Again, we turn to Mary as our example. As parents, we must always be pointing our children to Jesus. She saw a need at Cana but did not try to become the miracle. (How often we turn to the doing first instead of turning to Jesus first.) She said, “Do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5), pointing them to Jesus rather than herself. This is hard right now because often our children don’t want to hear about the faith. They have pushed mute on those conversations.

There's More to Give Now Than You Think

Here is the hard part. We must live our faith for ourselves and in doing so we witness to them. We as parents so often live our faith for our children instead of living it as a witness. At this time of their life, more than ever before, they are looking for happiness, success, and fulfillment. They need to see us living that out through our faith.

We have more to give them now than we think. Our children need to see that a relationship with Christ (through prayer, sacrifice, fellowship, and service) has made us more, not less. They need to see how our faith has changed and continues to change the person inviting them back. Consider joining a Bible study or a fellowship group at church that helps you grow in faith. Go to Confession more regularly (it helps!) and choose trust over sorrow because the Lord is working for our children and we can lay down that worry.

Our faith is not something we can merely defend with words, but must be revealed through witness. It is something someone should be able to see in the way we live differently. It is a beautiful thing when a prodigal child comes back home after searching for happiness in so many ways and says, “I see it is Jesus that you have always had and I’m working my way back into a relationship with Him.” This is not a moment of pride but rather rejoicing; a glimpse of God at work, and what a gift!

Being Catholic must look attractive. Our children need to see us and ask themselves what is it that continues to make them joyful amid the hardships I know they carry. We must live out that paradox for them: through fasting, prayers, and the sacraments, but also by investing in our own relationship with the Lord. In deepening our own relationship with Jesus, we find ourselves right where we need to be, sitting beside that empty seat in the pew, waiting and watching with expectant hearts.

Share your thoughts with the Catholic Mom community! You'll find the comment box below the author's bio and list of recommended articles.

Copyright 2026 MaryBeth Eberhard
Images: Canva