a confession - by augustine

The house of my soul is too small for you to enter: make it more spacious by your coming.  

It lies in ruins; rebuild it. 

Some things are to be found there which will offend your gaze; I confess this to be so and know it well.  

But who will clean my house?

To whom but yourself can I cry,  

"Cleanse me of my hidden sins, O Lord, and for those incurred through others, pardon your servant"?

I believe, and so I will speak. 

You know everything, Lord. 

Have I not laid my own transgressions bare before you to my own condemnation, my God, and have not you forgiven the wickedness of my heart?

I do not argue my case against you, for you are truth itself;
nor do I wish to deceive myself, lest my iniquity be caught in its own lies. 

No, I do not argue the case with you, because
"If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?"

st. augustine