It's probably happened to all of us.
It happened to a lady named Martha Snell Nicholson. For more than 35 years she suffered from four different incurable diseases, bound to her bed. That gave her a lot of time to think. During some of those times she remembered her sins, and mentally beat herself up over them. The Lord finally comforted her, and Martha put her experience into a poem:
I made a lash of my remembered sins.
I wove it firm and strong, with cruel tip,
And though my quivering flesh shrank from the scourge,
With steady arm I plied the ruthless whip.
For surely I, who had betrayed my lord,
Must needs endure this sting of memory.
But though my stripes grew sore, there came no peace,
And so I looked again to Calvary.
His tender eyes beneath the crown of thorns
Met mine; His sweet voice said, "My child, although
Those oft-remembered sins of thine have been
Like crimson, scarlet, they are now like snow.
My blood, shed here, has washed them all away,
And there remaineth not the least dark spot,
Nor any memory of them; and so
Should you remember sins which God forgot?"
I stood there trembling, bathed in light, though scarce
My tired heart dared to hope. His voice went on:
"Look at thy feet, My child." I looked, and lo,
The whip of my remembered sins was gone!
(Martha Snell Nicholson)
--Rocky Henriques, www.uticabc.com