An Enneagram Type 1 Dreams of Heaven

Since I was young I have had a consistent fear. I have imagined the moment I will see Jesus face-to-face. I imagine him looking at the list of good things I have done. I can imagine telling him about how hard I worked and about how much I loved that work. I can imagine those good things bringing him joy because they were done in his name and they were kingdom work. They brought a little bit of the justice of heaven, the peace of heaven right here to earth, while still pointing people to the better reality yet to come. I can imagine feeling confident about all the good I tried to bring to a broken world.

And then I imagine Jesus patting me on the back. Or sometimes I see him taking me by the shoulders. He says to me, “You did all the right things. . . but you missed the point.”

That’s where it always ends.

I don’t doubt my salvation. I don’t doubt the reality of my faith. But for as long as I can remember I have struggled with knowing if I’m doing it right— whatever “right” might mean in the moment.

I don’t struggle with imagining I am doing the right things. I am so fully motivated to do the right things. But I see the people around me who are more connected with their feelings, more aware of relationship dynamics, more expressive of the highs and lows, more able to let go of the minutia, and I just wonder if I’m missing the point. Am I doing all the right things, but not in the right way? Not with the right heart? Should it all feel differently than it feels to me? If I were doing it right, would I experience more of the emotional/spiritual highs and lows I hear other people talk about?

These questions have haunted me. And then I found the Enneagram.

I’m not saying it’s a perfect way to define or understand your personal motivations. I don’t know that any one tool can categorize every human correctly and account for all the variances. I think it’s a tool that works for some people to help them understand the WHY of who they are and to start to see their motivations more objectively.

For me, finding out I was a One (known as The Perfectionist or The Reformer) deeply resonated with me. Ones care about doing the right thing. They care about justice. They care about finding problems and looking for solutions. They can seem critical of others, but there isn’t anyone they are more critical of than themselves. 

Ones struggle with an Inner Critic that is never satisfied. It’s like radio static in the background of life—always there, but not always recognized. It can be quiet, but extremely influential. And in my mind, I imagine listening to this voice is the only way I can get better. Be better. I have to find the flaws so I can root them out and correct them.

Perfectionism and control are hard to maintain as a mother. They will make you dissatisfied with your life— your beautiful, sweet life surrounded by kids who think you hung the moon, even when all you see are your flaws. So with each child I have learned to let go. I have learned to speak back to that Inner Critic who tells me this isn’t enough. I’m not doing enough good in the world. I’m not doing it right.

In some ways, having a large family of kids with unique issues is the perfect antidote to perfectionistic tendencies. It’s a constant fight, but the beauty is, as a One, I love a good fight. I have been forced to let go and make peace with my life as it is instead of asking it to be more or different or better.

I think I’ve always known this was a fight I would have to engage in, even before I knew why. I can see it in my vision of heaven. I’ve always known my focus has been on my work and my behavior and that could allow me to miss the point. In my dreams of heaven, that Inner Critic is expressed in a Jesus that brings me home to glory and still needs to point out my flaws.

But now I dream of heaven with a fresh hope. I’m imagining a day when that Inner Critic doesn’t have a voice in my life anymore. What if Jesus doesn’t express disappointment in me? What if he knows what a struggle this has been—to always want to do right, to be right, to always feel like I was failing. What if there’s grace enough for me in all my shortcomings? What if there’s rest? Beautiful, sweet, rest from a life of fighting to be good.

What if Jesus wants me to see glimpses of that rest today— in the unreasonable joy my kids take in just my presence, in the simple pleasures of creation in all its wild glory, in trusting God to be the God of justice with or without my help.

I think each of us will find heaven uniquely suited to who we are and who we were created to be. I think it will give us rest from our individual struggles and burdens.

I think there’s beauty in this drive I have for the world to be made right. I think there’s an aspect of holiness in it. It keeps me pushing forward to that beautiful day when all will be well. And I dream of it with the excitement that I will be made well, too. I will know fully just as I am fully known.