Carrying Less Into the New Year

The new year arrives this week, and like most people, I find myself reflecting on 2025. It’s a year I’ll never forget.

Because I did it.

I got pregnant.

I gave birth.

I became a mom.

I cared for a baby for the first time in my life. And I’m not exaggerating when I say that changing my son’s first diaper may have been the second diaper I’d ever changed, ever. Somewhere along the way, my identity shifted. I’m not just Brittney anymore. I’m not just Mrs. O. I’m our son’s mama.

Now there’s this little soul entrusted to us—to love, guide, teach, and support. He’s the center of our world, and I genuinely love that. I love pouring into him. I love watching him grow and learn and discover new things every single day.

And yet, like so many moms, I’ve wrestled with what motherhood means for the other parts of my life.

How it inevitably takes from certain places in order to give to another.

How it changes how I show up as a wife some days.

What it means for my career, my “corporate girlie” life.

How it’s reshaped the ways and the timing of my personal time with God, and even my ability to serve in ministry.

I’m notoriously hard on myself. Being self-critical comes naturally to me. So all of this has weighed heavier than I expected.

Last week, during some much-needed self-care time at the spa, in a quiet moment, I felt God speak to me in an unmistakable way. One verse surfaced and wouldn’t let go: Romans 8:1. I hadn’t been reading it. I hadn’t been searching for it. It was simply placed on my heart.

At the time, I wasn’t sure why that particular verse was given to me. But in the days that followed, after a few moments that tested me more than I expected, it made sense.

I went back and sat with that verse, and because I love language, I did what I always do—I looked up a key word. Condemnation. In Greek, it carries the idea of a guilty verdict. A judgment passed down. A sentence.

And something shifted for me.

How can I so easily pass a guilty verdict on myself for “not being enough” in certain areas, when that verdict has already been lifted? When Christ has already taken it upon Himself?

I’m not talking about conviction—the kind that leads to correction, growth, and grace. I’m talking about condemnation. The kind that shuts me down. The kind that whispers that I’m failing, falling short, or somehow disappointing God because my capacity looks different in this season.

That’s the weight I’ve been carrying.

And that’s the weight I’m learning to put down.

And the learning process is hard. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. It’s been one of the most unexpected and difficult parts of motherhood for me. So moms, I see you. It’s hard because you care. It’s hard because you’re trying. And even on the days when no one else notices or acknowledges the effort it takes just to keep showing up, God does.

I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions. But this year, I owe it to myself to keep showing up and to keep following where God is leading me. To give myself grace in the in-between. To trust that He’s with me every step of the way—guiding me, encouraging me, and showing me what I’m meant to carry and what I’m allowed to put down. Because He won’t put more on me than I can bear.

As always, wishing everyone a happy healthy 2026.