Retrogression, or Over the Devil’s Slide by Florence Welty Merrell

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D.C. · Nov 2, 1911

Retrogression, or Over the Devil’s Slide

By Florence Welty Merrell

FLORENCE WELTY MERRELL

Two women who were seeking to soothe weary nerves and regain lost energy and health were spending a few weeks at a watering-place on the Pacific Coast. After many places of interest had been visited, one day when wondering if they had seen all that was worth while, it occurred to them that there was one beach near by that should not be missed in their round of long, delightful strolls; so one morning they started, lunch basket and reading-matter in hand.

The objective point at this time was a wonderful ocean cave, not accessible except at low tide. To reach it and the ocean bed, which was exposed to view for a block from shore, they must go by way of the Devil’s Slide. This slide, a precipitous ocean cliff, was made passable by a series of long stairways. After the women had safely reached the bottom of these, they found themselves in a new world, interesting in the extreme.

The younger of the two was suitably dressed for the occasion, and was in the right mood to enjoy the rare sights which mother nature had lavishly displayed around them. But not so with the other woman; a different aspect of their surroundings appealed to her. There were slippery rocks grown over with seaweeds and long grasses; there were broad stretches of solid rock washed into sink-holes with crevices, over which one must step cautiously to keep dry-shod. She was already tired, and her feet were aching because of the uncomfortable shoes she had worn. Then, too, had not a tourist recently, in that very place, had a fall that resulted in a fractured bone? “It is too aggravating to think that I did not stay at home,” she said. “I should have known better,” etc.

For a few minutes the spirits of the two women clashed. The elder found fault with herself for coming; and the younger, who had been so happy, and just in her “element,” as the girls would say, censured her friend for complaining on such an otherwise perfect day.

The little gale blew over, but the consciousness of a lapse from their high standard of Christian living did not, thanks to the faithful Teacher ever by the Christian’s side; and as they slowly and wearily climbed back over the long, hard road to their cottage by the sea, that sweet sense of God’s approving smile and of a day without a regret was sadly lacking. Not much was said about it until the sacred hour for worship, and then the conviction came with such force as to compel a humble confession.

Were they not praying every hour of every day to be led by the Spirit of the Master? Were they not seeking to be always prompted by the best and purest motives? What did it all mean—this sudden revelation of an unsubdued spirit? How could it be that after many hours together in earnest prayer and Bible study, they should have this exhibition of unconquered human nature? They could not have believed that so trifling a circumstance could cause them such annoyance and sorrow. Then it occurred to them what it all meant.

They had been permitted to go down the “devil’s slide” to teach them a valuable lesson, and there, at the altar of prayer, it was all explained. The one had slipped on the rocks of murmuring, complaining, and unrest, instead of exercising forethought, and then enjoying the glories of the day; the other had failed as manifestly in uncharitable criticism, instead of pouring oil on the turbulent waters, thus soothing the agitated spirit.

Through the crucifixion of self, by tears of penitence and humble acknowledgment, they obtained forgiveness at the foot of the cross. They realized that the old man, the Adamic nature, must be crucified, and saw a deeper meaning in the words: “Buried with Him in baptism, wherein also ye are risen with him” (Col. 2:12), and together they sought the experience of conscious walking with the risen Christ. “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above” (Col. 3:1); “that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4).

Satan may then rattle the dead man’s bones, as he slyly presents the temptation to return to the old ways of thinking and acting; but since he finds there no affinity for former conditions, and hence no response from the new being, he has to turn away in utter defeat; he is conquered.

As the two companions arose from that sweet communion, where, sitting at the feet of Jesus, they had been taught as never man taught, the peace of God filled their hearts. But the lesson was not completed until the next morning, when, while it was yet dark, one of them said: “He wakeneth morning by morning, he wakeneth mine ear to hear as the learned,” and out of the thick darkness came the still, small voice saying, “Count yourself dead.”

“How grateful we are!” they said. “When temptations come, we are to count ourselves dead, dead to the voice of the enemy, dead to all the vexing things that are flaunted in our very faces.”

“Reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God.” “Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.” And this course, followed in faith, will result in victory every time. “As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him.”

Boulder, Colo.