Skip to main content

Enneagram 9's Running up the Credit Card


I keep charging them to my credit card, these instances of kindness and patience and good listening. I know I didn't pay cash for them because I haven't had any cash in years.

And I certainly didn't use His account like He told me to. He said, "Let anyone who is bankrupt come to me. And whoever uses my account, rivers of gold will burst from their wallets." Yeah. I haven't been taking advantage of that deal. It's just not programmed into me. At the department store where the lit-up ads remind me what I need—forgiveness for that rude comment and understanding for that annoying person and gentleness when the kids are bratty—I want it all. I mean these are good things, right? I'm supposed to own these things. If I have these things, everything will be alright. Right? So I pile them into my basket and run up the credit card.

At the end of the week or sometimes even the day, the creditors come calling. "We see you've been spending borrowed money. It's time to pay up."

I show them my wallet, and they give me that knowing look before entering my front door and taking what I have. They slash through the plastic forgiveness and gentleness, rendering them useless. They empty out the bathroom of all my self-care implements. They take all the health food and the exercise machine. They take away my hearing aids and glasses, the heater and the air conditioner, my blood pressure medication and my inhaler.

When they leave, I am useless to everyone, including myself. I am numb and empty. What else can I do, but sit in front of the T.V. and let its messages wash over me until a new day returns me to my senses.

I know it doesn't need to be like this. I know I can have everything and much more by using His account. It's recognized everywhere. And it gets me the real things, not these cheap imitations that don't last more than a moment. He gives the real patience, the real forgiveness, the real love. And His products don't cost me anything. They don't leave me in a deficit either. I need only remember to stop frantically trying to produce for others' demands and instead, look in my wallet and see its emptiness. That'll remind me to use His account alright.


Comments

Laura Provencio said…
This was very helpful to read. I'm a 9.😀

Popular posts from this blog

Baptism Testimony

I didn't used to want to be baptized. I was too stubborn. I was determined to be the upright, genuine Christian who wasn't baptized—something of a superior class, I suppose. All that physical symbolism was for the archaic layman or the really emotional sort or the person who's afraid baptism is necessary for salvation. It's not for me. It's not for the steady, reliable believer who's doesn't have a big conversion story. I was in preschool when I prayed the prayer. In 6th grade, I gained a deeper understanding of sin while bickering with my siblings in the backseat of the family van. When I was 16, I began a daily quiet time with the Lord. And now at 36, I'm hearing the Lord asking me to make my faith work. Make the rubber meet the road. Get out of "morbid introspection and into deeds," out of "anxious hesitation and into the storm of events" (Rohr & Ebert, 129-130). Stop retreating into my head to figure out God and salvation

Why the Enneagram Numbers Quarantine

Type 1: The Reformer     I quarantine because it's the right thing to do and everyone ought to be doing their part for society by following the same procedures. Type 2: The Helper     No, I'm not concerned about myself, but I quarantine for everyone else. I want to help my neighbors feel safe, and I would absolutely die if I found out I had passed on the virus to someone else. Type 3: The Performer    I quarantine because that's what's expected of me, right? Plus, think about how bad it would look if I didn't. Type 4: The Individualist     I would've loved to quarantine before all this started but now that everyone is doing it, I'm not so sure I want to follow along. I guess I'll quarantine but somehow find a way to still remain exceptional. Type 5: The Observer     I might quarantine. I might not. I probably will while researching the facts about this virus. When I know enough, I'll make a final decision. Type 6: The Guardian     I q

Wanting the Ends Without the Means

I want my children to learn to get along, But I don't want to hear them fight. I want them to feel their emotions and understand them, But I don't want them to slam doors or be sassy. I want them to be respectful to adults, But I don't want to be embarrassed when they say something totally inappropriate. I want them to choose to obey me, But I don't want to come up with consequences when they don't. I want them to fill their own time with play, But I don't want to clean up the mess when they put stickers on the walls or throw tomatoes over the neighbor's fence or carve into the walls or cut through the upholstery with scissors. I want them to be good. But I don't want to suffer through their becoming good. I want a rich and seasoned relationship with my husband, But I don't want to endure seasons of dryness or coldness or disinterestedness. I want to have friends who are different than me, But I don't want to hear their threatening opinions. I wa