O Lord God Almighty, Ancient of Days, Uncreated Light who dwells in unapproachable glory, Holy, Holy, Holy is Your Name – O Thou Holiest. Before Your throne I come on this third day of Lent — not to argue, not to excuse, not to explain — but simply to acknowledge.
I acknowledge first who You are. You are the Self-Existent One, Jehovah Who says and fulfils, the Faithful One whose purposes stand through all generations. You are the Mighty Conqueror, yet gentle toward the contrite. I acknowledge Your sovereignty over my life. Every gift I enjoy flows from Your hand. Your mercy is older than my iniquitous nature; just as Your love precedes my repentance. Before my first breath, You knew me. Before my first sin, You loved me. You sustain all things by the word of Your power — even me, though conceived in frailty and formed within a world already bent away from You.
I stand before You in holy awareness, O Great Deliverer. I acknowledge my sin. Not vaguely. Not ceremonially. But deliberately. I acknowledge my manifold transgressions — the visible and the hidden, the deliberate and the careless, the remembered and the forgotten.
You are righteous in all Your ways, yet I am unrighteous in mine. You are pure in all Your judgments, yet I am unjust and unfair in my dealings. Great is Your faithfulness, yet I am not faithful. Lord God, the Triune God, in Your trinity is the Truth. So, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — Most High, Most Wise, Most Living — lift me into the light of Your truth. Give me courage to see myself as I am. Grant me spiritual sight to discern the roots beneath the fruit, the pride beneath the action, the fear beneath the control.
Apart from You I am dust animated and sustained by grace and mercy. I acknowledge that I have offended You in thought, in word, in deed — by what I have done
and by what I have left undone. I have withheld obedience. I have delayed surrender. I have loved comfort more than holiness. I have sought approval more than truth. Among men I may appear upright — but before You, O Searcher of hearts,
I know my poverty.
O Uncreated Light, from Whom no secrets are hidden, I confess that I have lived much of my life in a self-made exile, wandering at the periphery of Your presence, close enough to speak of You, but far from the transformative power in true worship and love.
Father, I acknowledge my soul is fragmented, that I give You portions but not the whole; that I praise You with lips that still negotiate allegiance. My heart has tethered itself to fading things and vanity while calling You Lord.
I am a vessel fashioned for glory that has tried to fill itself with dust. You are light, yet I often dwell in shadow, not of You, the Almighty, but of ways of iniquity. You are truth, yet I often entertain compromise, and engage in lies. You are constant, yet I am prone to wander: wander away from the true path of Christian perfection. I acknowledge not only my sins, but my inclination toward them. Not only my actions,
but the disordered loves that produce them. I acknowledge the unknown transgressions — those sins too subtle for my conscience, too habitual for my notice, too ingrained for my awareness.
This Lent, O Holy One, open my eyes to see You as You are — high and lifted up, yet near to the broken hearted. Strip away the narratives that defend me. Silence the ego that justifies me. Dismantle the self-image I protect. Interrupt the frantic noise of my pride. Rescue me from poverty in the things that matter. Reveal the true condition of my spirit, and heal me.
Reveal to me, O Lord, the true state of my spirit, that I may begin the long walk home. Let me see the depth of my need so that I may know of the task ahead of me. Let this acknowledgement not remain words, but become the doorway to conversion. Ground me in this unshakable truth: that You are God, I am Yours, and without You, I am lost. Let me proceed in this sacred season grounded in Jesus Christ to Whom I belong, and in Whose name I pray – for in humility I stand, in truth I speak and in hope I remain. Amen.
