The Church Seat May Be Empty, But Your Faith Isn’t: Caregivers Absence from Services as Opportunity to Minister

by Sarah Haught, Doctoral Candidate in Clinical Psychology, Regent University

Here at The Church Cares, we aim to nurture the congregational care helpers. That’s why we’re proud to offer free high-quality support to those who want to pray, care, and engage more effectively with the hurting world around them.

I can still picture the living room where my grandmother’s recliner sat, tucked beside the wide front window that overlooked her yard, a place where she loved to watch the birds. That room became the heart of our family’s life in the few months between her diagnosis with ALS, a disease that swiftly stole her ability to move and speak but never her gentle spirit, and her passing. My parents and relatives quickly rearranged their schedules to care for her. Weekends often meant my parents loading the family van with supplies, overnight bags, and four children before setting out on long drives to help however we could, sometimes feeding her, sometimes simply sitting quietly at her side.

Picture of a grandma

I was eleven, old enough to sense the weight of what was happening but too young to fully understand it. I remember peeking into the living room and seeing her kind face tighten as she fought back tears. She would sit and watch robins, chickadees, and wrens flutter freely around her birdfeeders outside, while she remained confined to her chair. Once she had loved to plant flowers, bake for the family, play with her grandchildren, and gather vegetables from her garden. Now, she watched the life she loved unfold just beyond the glass.

Those weekends of caregiving also meant missing church. Our home congregation was understanding at first, but after a while, the comments started to sting. “Where have you been?” someone would ask. Another would comment, “Haven’t seen ya for a while.” Others didn’t say anything at all, just a quiet nod or an averted glance. What was already a season of emotional strain became heavier under the weight of misunderstanding.

If you have ever been in a similar place, caring for a loved one and feeling torn between the needs of family and the rhythms of church life, you are not alone. You may even feel a quiet ache each Sunday as you imagine your empty seat in the sanctuary. This reflection is for you, and it’s also for church leaders and friends who want to love caregivers well.

When Life Interrupts Sunday Rhythms

Life doesn’t always follow the rhythm of Sunday worship. Sometimes, instead of being in a pew, we are at a hospital bed, sitting in a waiting room, or holding the hand of someone who cannot be left alone. Those moments are not outside of God’s presence. They are holy spaces where faith is lived out in tender, unseen ways.

Scripture reminds us, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). The law of Christ is the law of love. When you care for someone in their weakness, you are walking in the footsteps of Jesus, who came not to be served but to serve (Mark 10:45). Caregiving is not a lesser calling than attending a worship service. It is an act of worship in itself…a living prayer of compassion, patience, and faithfulness.

Think of the story in Matthew 25, where Jesus said, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me.” When you prepare a meal for your loved one, when you sit through the night watching over them, when you whisper prayers into the quiet, you are ministering to Christ Himself. The church seat may be empty, but your faith is not.

God Sees the Quiet Sacrifice

Caregiving often happens in the shadows. There is no applause or stage lights, only the hum of medical machines, the rhythm of medication schedules, and the fatigue that settles deep in the body. But God sees. Psalm 56:8 says that He keeps track of every tear and stores them in His bottle. Nothing goes unnoticed by Him, not a single sigh or sleepless night.

In Mark 12, Jesus watched as people placed their offerings into the temple treasury. Many gave out of abundance, but one poor widow dropped in two small coins. Jesus noticed her. He said she had given more than anyone else because she gave from her heart. In the same way, God notices the small, sacrificial offerings of caregivers. He sees the ways you give out of love when no one else is watching. He sees the heart behind the action, and it is precious to Him.

For Church Leaders and Friends: Presence Over Pressure

If you are a ministry leader or friend of someone who is caring for a loved one, this is your moment to offer presence instead of pressure. When a caregiver misses church, it is not a sign of spiritual neglect. It is a season of faithful service. Instead of saying, “We haven’t seen you in a while,” consider words of grace: “We’ve missed you, but we understand why you’ve been away. What you’re doing is deeply important to God. You are still part of us, and we are praying for you.”

Sometimes it’s not words that matter most but simple gestures of care, like a handwritten note, a phone call, a meal left on the doorstep, or a prayer offered over the phone. These small acts remind caregivers that they belong. They help bridge the gap between absence and community. Romans 12:10 encourages us to “be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.” When we honor the caregiver’s calling, we live out that verse in real time.

Church May Come to You in This Season

For those who are in the caregiving role right now, hear this truth: you are not falling behind spiritually. Your faith is not on pause. It is alive in the way you love. Hebrews 10:24–25 urges us not to give up meeting together, but meeting can look different in certain seasons. When you cannot go to church, church can come to you. It can come through the Scriptures you read in the quiet moments, through worship music playing softly in the background, through the prayers you whisper as you tuck in your loved one.

Jesus said in Matthew 18:20, “Where two or three gather in My name, there am I with them.” Even if your “gathering” is just you and your loved one, or you and a caregiver friend praying over the phone, He is there. His presence is not confined to a sanctuary. It fills hospital rooms, nursing homes, living rooms, and long drives to appointments.

When you feel weary, remember Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11:28–30: “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” He knows what it feels like to pour yourself out for others. He knows the ache of love that costs something. He promises not only rest but renewal.

A Word of Blessing for Caregivers

If you are caring for someone today, may you hear this blessing:

May the Lord strengthen your hands when they tremble with fatigue. May He remind you that your labor in love is never in vain. May He fill your heart with peace, even in the uncertainty of each day. May you feel His nearness in every act of care and kindness.

And if you are part of a church community, may this be a gentle call to notice the caregivers among you. Check in on them. Pray for them by name. Let them know their seat may be empty, but their presence in the body of Christ is still deeply felt.

Living Out Faith in the Quiet Places

The beauty of the gospel is that it meets us wherever we are. Whether in a pew or by a bedside, God’s love remains constant. In caring for others, we often find ourselves being cared for by Him. His Spirit whispers through the fatigue, “You are doing holy work.”

So, to every caregiver reading this: You are not forgotten. You are part of the body of Christ, fully and completely. The church seat may be empty, but your faith is alive and visible to God. He delights in your devotion and calls you His own.

And for those who want to continue caring for others in meaningful ways, we invite you to explore our Church Cares Kit, a resource designed to help faith communities support mental health, caregiving, and spiritual resilience throughout the year.

You are loved, you belong, and God is with you, right where you are.

About the Author

Sarah Haught is a doctoral candidate in the PsyD program at Regent University with an M.A. in Clinical Psychology. She serves as director of program evaluation for The Church Cares. She is passionate about faith integration and active in the Charis Institute and Society for Christian Accommodative Treatment and Programs.