Old Books, God and Ourselves, Norman Cox, Part 5.
The run-away son finally came to his senses and limped home -- all he had left was a broken heart and a prepared speech: “Father, I have sinned....” These were exceptional words: “Such confession is rare; such penitence a virtue seldom met. Even in the Bible the words, “I have sinned,” occur only thirteen times. And even these are not all genuine.” Some were insincere. Some acknowledged being caught [e.g. Achan] but showed no repentance. “Only twice in the Bible [David and the prodigal] was the confession followed by action which indicated the sincerity of the confessor, his abhorance of his sin, and his pleas for pardon.”

I must be honest -- I don’t find confession much easier. When I have flung unkind words at my wife and know that my confession can restore peace, I agonize over whether to admit my sin. Though my sin is obvious to both of us, I can’t voice it. Is my voice box frozen? Is this a foreign language I don’t know? A dialect of the English language? Would it help to hire a Professor Higgins (My Fair Lady) who will teach me how to say these words? “Repeat after me: `I have sinned. I have sinned. I have sinned.’”
There seems to be a tendency within all of us to magnify others’ sins and minimize our own. Are you overwhelmed by your mate’s sins? Would you like to confront your best friend with her failings as a best friend? Are you angered by the lack of love from a parent? Step back. Take a minute to raise the mirror in front of your own soul. Ask God to help you see your own culpability in whatever is broken between you and someone else: “Search me, O God, and know my heart; ... See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” God is the only one who can enable me to see and confess my own sin.