When Micha Boyett's son was born with Down's Syndrome and later diagnosed with autism, she was drawn into the ancient teachings of the Beatitudes. There she found wisdom she needed in a world that values performance, perfection, and strength. Jesus instead calls his followers to embrace meekness, mercy, and suffering. The Beatitudes became an invitation to discover her worth in God's love rather than in her own accomplishments. In Blessed Are the Rest of Us, Boyett shares her insights with readers--especially those who are burned out, tired of performing, living with grief, or feeling exhausted, powerless, or excluded. She invites them into an understanding of God and themselves centered on belovedness rather than accomplishment. Here is her in God's dream for the world, blessing has nothing to do with ease; it's about flourishing, and Jesus promises we find flourishing in our limits and in our longing to see the world made whole. Each chapter centers on the refreshing good news of one beatitude, poetically woven with stories of Boyett's life. Beautifully reassuring and liberating, this book calls readers to rest in God's rich and abundant love.
Micha Boyett is a blogger, wife, and mom with a Masters of Fine Arts in Poetry degree from Syracuse University. A former youth minister, she's passionate about monasticism and ancient Christian spiritual practices and how they inform the contemporary life of faith. Boyett and her husband live in San Francisco with their two boys.
Summary: A mother with a Down’s Syndrome child discovers in the Beatitudes a relationship with God based on God’s love rather than our accomplishments.
A message on Lazarus spoke personally to Micha Boyett. The speaker asked why for someone so greatly loved by Jesus, we never hear Lazarus speak. The speaker wondered if Lazarus couldn’t speak–and if that was why he was so greatly loved by Jesus. We do not know for sure, but this deeply touched Boyett as the mother of a Downs Syndrome child with autism and not able to do more than vocalize a few sounds. Living in fast-paced San Francisco where people are valued for productivity and achievement, it opened her eyes to a Jesus with a very different set of values for things not valued by society. Values that assured her of hope for her son.
In Blessed Are the Rest of Us, Micha Boyett explores the meaning of each statement in the Beatitudes, interweaving this with the story of Ace, her son. She begins with discussing the translation of makarioi, usually appearing as “blessed” in our Bibles but can also mean “happy,” “favored,” or even “flourishing.” What is stunning is that the people of whom Jesus speaks as makarioi or the “weak, the weary, and the worn out.”
For the weak, they are the caretakers of the dream of God. Imagine a Down’s parent seeing her struggling work with her child in that light. She writes of the grief of the news of the child she was carrying, the grief even her children felt at Ace’s agonizingly slow progress and the hope of a divine banquet and the foretastes in the joys of their family. She writes of meekness as the release of power and the strange wonder that only in the setting aside of our striving are we free to receive what we cannot earn because it has always been ours from the Beloved.
Boyett writes of the Beatitudes not only re-orienting what we value; they speak of the value intrinsic as the Beloved of God when we feel valueless. It moves us to forgive and seek justice, and show mercy. And it moves us to serve peace. Boyett in the chapter on peacemaking describes what, to her was a failure in such efforts, motivated out of concern she, her pastor and elder board had that the LGBTQ+ part of their church community experience greater peace. It all blew up two weeks before Boyett’s due date, This all culminated in a hard evening with their closest friends, part of the same church, who didn’t share her and the elders convictions. They say hard things, including the poor way this was implemented where it seemed a small group decided made decisions for a whole church. And then they show up when Boyett has to go on full bed rest. Boyett writes movingly of a hard, painful process of pursuing peace both with each other and for LGBTQ+ people in their congregation, and a friendship sustained by nothing other than the peace of Christ.
Along the way, Boyett writes both of the love and wonder she has for Ace, love that makes her a fierce advocate for him and others with disabilities, and how much harder it is for many persons of color. Whether you agree or not with all of Boyett’s ideas in this book, this is a profoundly prolife book in which Ace’s value, and that of others on the margins, is grounded in the counter-cultural values of the Beatitudes and a God who loves in our weakness, poverty, failures, and suffering. Ace is all of us–we just don’t know it–and through Boyett’s work, we can learn what it means to be among the makarioi.
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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.
I received a free copy of, Blessed Are the Rest of Us, by Micha Boyett, from the publisher and Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Micha Boyett son has down syndrome and autism. While this would be hard for any parent, Micha leaned on her faith and the beatitudes, to guide her through. This is a good read, I relearned the beatitudes, all over again.
I’ve always loved studying The Beatitudes so when I found this book I was excited to read it. The author has some good points about this part of the Bible early in the book. However, the further I read, the more it became obvious that the author twisted words in the Bible to meet her own personal feelings and didn’t stick to the actual words spoken. She even pointed out when her views changed from what is truly in the Bible.
She also wrote as if you could not fully receive the benefits of the blessings of a good unless you were underprivileged in certain ways. She never took into account the fact that you can go through really hard times and look “privileged” at the same time. It was obvious that her views of Christianity and mine are vastly different.
This is a Christian living book that goes through the different verses in the Beatitudes and applies them to people with disabilities and their family members, and then more generally to those in our modern American society who are marginalized.
This was a really unusual reading experience for me. I absolutely loved certain things - the author's writing style, her take on disability theology, and her chapters on mourning and meekness.
But it also became clear, particularly in the second half of the book, that the author and I have a fundamentally different way of interpreting the Bible - not just on one issue, but in general. Which is problematic when it's a book that's going through what certain verses mean.
So in the end, I felt very encouraged and helped by certain parts, have a different take on other parts, no idea how to rate the book.
I have struggled with how to review Micha Boyett's "Blessed Are the Rest of Us: How Limits and Longing Make Us Whole."
I've wrestled. Mightily.
Were my expectations different? This may be partly true.
Does my perspective as an adult with disabilities come into play? Most definitely.
The book sounded very up my alley when I first requested and received my ARC (Advanced Reader's Copy). The book also received praise from two authors whose recommendations I trust and, quite honestly, I wholeheartedly embrace books that at least explore the landscape of theology and disability.
Right there may very well have been my first mistake. It should be noted up front that a good majority of "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" is inspired by the birth of Boyett's son, Ace, with Down Syndrome and eventual diagnosis of Autism, "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" is not at its core a book about Ace or disability.
Instead, "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" is ultimately a book about Boyett herself and how Ace's birth led her toward the ancient teachings of the Beatitudes. This, of course, isn't a bad thing. In fact, at times it's quite moving and inspirational. Despite the fact that I didn't completely resonate with "Blessed Are the Rest of Us," I assure you there will be many who will.
"Blessed Are the Rest of Us" is about how Boyett's turning toward the Beatitudes helped her release so many values embraced by the world - performance, perfection, and strength - in favor of Jesus's call toward meekness, mercy, and justice. Rather than always finding value in her accomplishments, Boyett began embracing her wholeness in God's love.
And yes, Ace, who is present throughout much of "Blessed Are the Rest of Us," helped facilitate that journey as a young child for whom nearly every developmental milestone was missed and whose life expectations are envisioned as less about performance and more about simply being beloved and in beloved community.
Each chapter of "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" centers around one particular beatitude and is typically companioned by Boyett's own life journey. The majority of the time Ace is included, however, this isn't a book about Ace or disability or disability theology. There are chapters where the focus is elsewhere, from a discussion of Boyett's other two children (Brooks and August) to a discussion around LGBT inclusion among others.
The subtitle of "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" is perhaps most indicative of what to expect from this literary journey. Those who are exhausted, overworked, drowning in performance expectations, or simply anxiety ridden will find much to love here and will likely be who most appreciates Boyett's work here. Parents of children with disabilities will also appreciate Boyett's gentle and compassionate weaving of a tapestry of faith that embraces those who perform at a different standard and, yes, those who may never be able to have their lives measured by performance standards.
As an adult with a disability, one with came with significant limitations that I have largely surpassed, I must confess that I at times struggled with "Blessed Are the Rest of Us." At times, it seems to cross the line into what the late disabled comic called "inspiration porn," a term she coined to symbolize material perceived as objectifying disabled people for the benefit or gratification of the able-bodied. Is this constant? Heavens no. Is it intentional? Absolutely not. However, I sometimes felt like I was seeing Ace through the lens of his mother rather than through the lens of Ace.
There's a difference and I think Boyett understands this because there are also times "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" nails it.
Disability and theology are difficult to write about, in fact while it seemed somewhat an outlier my favorite chapter in the book involved the LGBT discussions, as far too often these discussions can turn into affirming weakness rather than affirming the human being. Even the title, for me, somewhat "others" Ace - "Blessed Are the Rest of Us?"
There's so much more I could write about. Ultimately, I have a unique perspective that won't likely impact most readers, though certainly it's a valid perspective. It's not often that I contemplate my review for quite some time before writing, however, I really wanted to reflect on my response to the book.
While "Blessed Are the Rest of Us" may not have ultimately landed for me as well as I'd expected, for those seeking a poetic and tender exploration of the Beatitudes in a world that often emphasizes quite the opposite this may prove to be a valuable read.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Thanks to Brazos Press (Baker Publishing) and NetGalley I had the privilege of reading a DRC of Blessed Are the Rest of Us by Micha Boyett. All opinions are my own and I have pre-ordered a hard copy and will be gifting copies of this book for many years. Even though I read the book over a month ago, I’ve waited to review it because I loved it so much that I wanted to treasure my private experience a little longer.
This beautiful book spoke to me more deeply than I have experienced in a very long time. I am not a mother. I do not have close, personal experience with severe disability. In many ways, my life experience has been quite different from that of the author. And that is one reason this book was so special; my favorite books have always been those that open me to worlds beyond my own. Boyett offers a glimpse into her life as the mother of a child with disabilities in a way that feels uncomfortably relatable at times. The honesty with which she shares the struggles and joys and true, hard blessedness of her life allowed me to experience a new level of compassion—with-ness—I hope I can live out in many contexts. It is not her experience itself that wrenched my heart, it is the humanity and humility with which she shares herself and her experiences.
While I appreciated reading about a life experience different than mine, Blessed Are the Rest of Us would be hugely encouraging to people with experiences more similar to Boyett. Especially when religious communities too often exclude, ignore, pity, and even shame people with disabilities, Blessed Are the Rest of Us could be a lifeline to people struggling to feel blessed or beloved or feeling they must defend their child’s worth. I will even recommend this book to my non-religious friends whose children have disabilities, because I think they will be heartened by it. And I will recommend it to every Christian I know, parent or not, because of what Boyett has to teach us all.
This book would have been good, even great, if it had been a straightforward memoir. However, Boyett takes it to another level by framing it with a beautiful theology of the beatitudes. As an aside, I’ve been looking for a good book on the beatitudes for years, and this is the first one I’ve come across that I would feel comfortable reading with a small group serious about spiritual growth. The theology enriches Boyett’s personal story, and her story enriches the theology. Since reading this book not a day has gone by when I haven’t contemplated what it means to be blessed through the layers of theology and life experience Boyett unveiled for me. Instead of cringing at the mere thought of (superficial, privilege-based) blessedness, I am beginning to appreciate the blessings Jesus offered and continues to offer, the blessings for “the rest of us,” the blessings I might even be able to participate in. I was already aware of my privilege in so many areas, and my attendant responsibilities. But I will be forever grateful to Boyett for the image of that privilege as the ease of mostly swimming downstream, and her gracious invitation to choose to swim upstream alongside others.
- Beatitudes - Jesus via ecclesia during listen “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether they are worthy” - The dream of God is to live in those blessings (and trenches) together
When Micha Boyett's son was born with Down's Syndrome and later diagnosed with autism, she found solace in the Beatitudes. Boyett shares her journey of embracing meekness, mercy, and suffering. She invites readers to find their worth in God's love, offering liberation and rest for the weary.
Micha Boyett's memoir is a critical exploration of seeking hope and worth for her son with Down’s Syndrome in a world that marginalizes disabilities. I appreciated her compassionate tone and challenge to cultural and church views on blessedness. While I didn’t agree with all her theological conclusions, her passion for intrinsic human worth was compelling. Her honest recounting of church struggles highlighted the irony of unintended division. Boyett’s lyrical yet conversational style conveyed authenticity, making this a reflective and engaging read.
Thank you @brazospress for the gifted book 🧡
Perfect for you if you like: Memoirs exploring theological insights Advocacy and inclusivity Honest accounts of raising children Reflective storytelling
Similar to: Field Notes for the Wilderness by Sarah Bessey Everything Happens for a Reason by Kate Bowler Peace is a Practice by Morgan Harper Nichols
Micha Boyett has written a book with an unflinching description of her life with her family including her son with Down’s Syndrome and autism. Along the way she connects her family’s life with the Beatitudes.
This discussion is enlightening and calls us to a more caring and attentive life.
Thank you to Net Galley and the publisher for this ARC
I am acquainted with Micha through ‘the lucky few’ podcast team and she’s just an incredible human! I resonated a lot of Micha’s struggles with anxiety as a parent and how it can manifest as anger, and that made me feel less alone in that battle. My daughter doesn’t have Down syndrome but is autistic among other diagnoses, and so her journey through disability is relatable.
*some topic spoilers* Some big topics when it came to faith and religion really struck home for me. I also struggled with the judgement placed on those in the LGBTQIA+ community by many churches, and I truly admire Micha’s trailblazing approach to change within her church. She expresses she went about it ‘wrong’ because it got ‘leaked’ and caused some chaos beyond the community, but honestly I feel like there is no perfectly executed approach to such big change within a belief system. I commend Micha’s vulnerability in that journey, and her perseverance toward the greater good to welcome and embrace LGBTQ+ individuals versus remaining passive for the sake of others who might not agree. This fire Micha held for change is such a perfect representation of what advocacy looks and feels like.
She also reflects on what it means to be “blessed”. I’ve struggled over the years with the term being so flippantly used for things that happen to us in life like when we get a nice home, job, or find out we are cured or spared of something. As in, what about the people who are just as faithful to their religion and aren’t “blessed” with such things, but instead face constant hardships. I really love Micha’s journey with recognizing that how we view things in the Bible or what the missions of Jesus were truly, might not be what they appear. The question if those who are disabled or struggling are ‘blessed’. And if anything, the ones who show us what life is truly about when it comes to finding opportunity to enjoy the simplest of joys, celebrate the milestones that others take for granted, and just to slow down and understand our existence is ‘enough’. Thank you Micha for pouring your vulnerabilities into your book. I hope others can find hope in it too!
I wasn’t always sure how I felt about the definitions of different beatitudes, because the author’s descriptions of them sometimes melted together to me, but I appreciated how she walked through them alongside stories of her family that felt so full of love, honesty, value, and a desire to recognize the truths in the kingdom of Jesus that we are beloved exactly as we are.
A book written by a parent of a kid with disabilities or anxiety disorder could feel a bit patronizing or too “inspirational” at the kid’s expense, but in this book, I mostly felt the author’s deep value and respect for each one of her kids. When she shares parenting stories, she often shows things that she doesn’t do perfectly, knowing that both her and the kid are trying their best and sometimes failing. But in the world of the Beatitudes, we’re loved anyways.
At the end, you find out that she asked permission from her oldest son before sharing his stories, and she hopes her youngest son will also feel valued by the way he’s presented here if he’s able to read this later. That felt true to her general spirit in this book, which isn’t exploiting her kids’ stories for personal gain, but giving insight into her real life in a way that helps us see what living out of the spirit of the Beatitudes could do. The chapter on mercy made me cry, and “For the True Ones” was another favorite.
Micha Boyett's study and gritty application of Jesus's Sermon on the Mount coincided perfectly with my own personal study of the Beatitudes. In Jesus's upside-down kingdom, Micha's son lives and moves among the "blessed"—despite the many challenges autism and Down syndrome pose in the kingdom of this world. Parents and teachers of children with disabilities will find a soulmate and traveling companion in Boyett's vulnerable writing.
More important, however, is the gift of insight she offers to those of us who are laboring under the illusion that perhaps, we can actually soldier our way into a "blessed" life without suffering or weakness of our own. The surprise message is that when we step into our true poverty of spirit and human longing, we find ourselves living the dream of God.
Many thanks to NetGalley for providing a copy of this book to facilitate my review, which is, of course, offered freely and with honesty.
I highly recommend that you read Blessed are the Rest of Us.
More than that, let it read you.
You may think that you don’t identify with a mom or with a neurodivergent kid with Downs Syndrome.
Whoever you are, you will identify with both; this book will read you.
I’m privileged. I’m white, college-educated, own my own home (well, it’s mostly the bank). But I saw myself in Ace because a priest told me “I don’t know what to do with you,” as others have stated about him. I don’t fit in a lot of places, sometimes because I’m a woman and sometimes because of how I think. I often feel like I don’t have a home. And like Micha does with Ace, “I hold the grief of [my] originality in the same breath as I praise it” (64).
Read this book. You’ll smile, cry, and be transformed. You will understand the beatitudes in a new way.
Thank you to Net Galley for the copy of Micha Boyett’s soon to be published book, Blessed Are the Rest of Us. I have been encouraged and inspired by Micha’s writing and insights for over a decade, especially excited which she agreed to guest author a post on my blog many years ago. Watching her navigate the birth of her son with Down’s Syndrome was constant lessons and inspiration in real time, so I feel like part of me has really been eagerly awaiting this book for a long time. As always, this book is heartfelt, vulnerable and real. Micha writes with truth and weaves in the Beatitudes in a way that gave that passage of scripture new meaning for me. So thankful for Micha’s prophetic voice, always given with humility and depth.
What a brave and courageous invitation to both let go and hold on! Through an honest and raw sharing of her parenting journey Micha sees us all and our longings. This poetry of the soul is a companion to letting go of hurtful cognitions we’ve inherited that divide and destroy and to holding on to the power of relationship and connection. To hold on to a Iove for one another in, our homes, community, nation and the world, that is both challenging and liberating. Walking with a loved one through Alzheimer’s is kinder, gentler and more gift for me after walking with Micha and her family and Ace in this beautiful book. We need Micha’s voice now.
A friend gave this book to me and I loved it. I do not agree with every single aspect from a theological standpoint, but I can appreciate hearing another person’s perspective and I think it’s very beneficial to read widely and not just around my own views. I am a mother of a child with significant disabilities and she put thoughts about raising a child with disabilities into words that I could not. I cried so many times and I absolutely loved her storytelling. I didn’t read this as a theological work, but as a mother’s heart pouring out. I loved it and I will read it again. She has a beautiful heart and talent for writing.
This book is the sandpaper that rubs against the societal norms that get swept under the rug. There were so many moments I had to stop reading to reflect and think about it for myself. She uses the starting point of the sermon on the mount, does a deep dive into the translation, cultural context, and then extrapolates for our time. It’s combined with a memoir of her life as a parent to a child with Down syndrome and life as a Christian. I love her style of writing, raw vulnerability, and study of scripture. I highly recommend.
Reflections on the Beatitudes by a mother of a child with Down Syndrome. (She's more than that, but as a mother of a child with Down Syndrome, I could related to her most closely there.) This book made me cry and uplifted me with its desire to value everyone - even and especially the disabled. This book challenges our American tendency to think that we are only worth as much as we can accomplish. That is not true in the Kingdom of God. Are are worthy.
Outstanding book on so many levels. I found and selected this book because I was preparing a women’s group presentation on the Beatitudes. But as I read, it delivered so much more than biblical enrichment. I identified with the author’s message as a teacher, community member, parent, mother, Christian, and child of God. Each chapter opened up its own insightful vision tied to the author’s life experiences. A truly inspired and inspiring read
I loved reading about the author’s family. She seems to be a wonderful mom! However, the book contained sweeping generalizations with which I don’t agree.
“This is still the way the world works. The rich get richer by wielding violence” seems like quite a stereotypical view of wealthy people and also one that is not always true.
This is a beautiful, holistic, inclusive, and lovely exploration of the beatitudes and what they mean for us today (and always). This joyful and honest book challenges us to see the way God loves those the world pushes to the margins and how God invited us to actively love in the same way God loves “the rest of us.” I highly recommend this book!
I'm not sure how I feel about this book. The memoir portions captivated me (even chapter 7) but the teaching portions were not my cup of tea. I appreciated what the author did with this book and with the Scripture, but it was mostly a miss for me.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from NetGalley. Opinions expressed in this review are completely my own.
The sibilance made it hard to listen to the audio book. As a mother of a disabled boy, I thought I'd get into this book because it's relatable, but the book was saturated with the San Francisco culture, which I do not belong to. So, I was lost in all the different personal things that the author was expressing without focusing on the main point.