I can imagine this conversation in Heaven
It starts with me
Lord, I have sinned, I have done this awful thing and I pray for you to forgive me
As I pray God is listening and He says
Look at that filth, he disgusts me
His life is full of sin makes me want to puke
How dare he approach my holy throne in such a manner
Does he not know I am a holy God?
But Father, Jesus says, my blood paid for his sins
I died on that cross to cover all of it
He is not approaching you in vain, or of his own accord
Let us look at his sin record Father
And as Jesus hands the Father a list of my sins
It is supernaturally changed from a white sheet covered in black as coal print of my sins
Into a solid blood stained sheet, washed white as snow
And the Father says, he is forgiven
All God sees is the blood of Jesus, nothing else
What a privilege to carry, everything to God in prayer