I know my shortcomings, and some of them are not pretty. Also, I am not ashamed (usually) to admit that I have them, or to admit that changing some of them (well, many of them, perhaps) is unlikely. Like everyone, I am not always fully truthful (to others or to myself). I have my quirks and my buttons get pushed in not-so-good ways sometimes. In other words; I'm normal.
But nothing I do is so heinous that I need to "repent my sins in the eyes of God," so to speak. I am not a murderer, or a thief, or an adulterer. The real issue is how I assuage my guilt about being normal. I mean everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes on purpose. Been there, done that, can't be avoided. Yet even knowing this, I am still somewhat haunted by the foibles that are the normal course of living. The curse of New England style guilt.
But in the end, ya gotta laugh about it. Life is, after all, not about being perfect. And I suspect that were there to prove to be a God, it would think it laughable that we would even for a minute think that we might transcend our idiosyncracies. Only in a perfect world would there be perfect people and a perfect God. And if we were created in the image of God, then clearly, God is not perfect.
So why for even the slightest minute would we expect it of ourselves?