Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Calm (04/09/26)
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TITLE: Called Out | Previous Challenge Entry
By Cliff Mansfield
04/10/26 -
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“Sorry, ma’am.”
“Donnie?”
“No, ma’am, check the rescue tent.”
Turning around, she stumbled away. Oliver Fox turned and made his way toward the waterway where the “Luxury Sun” had collided with a tanker coming to dock. An hour earlier, he sat in an armchair eating dinner with his wife. Now he walked into a wreck of twisted steel and broken bodies. He received the call to assist in search and rescue from the local fire chief, who was his father. Oliver grew up in a firehouse and followed his father’s example.
He came to a row of fire trucks parallel to the waterway. Hoses stretched out and pumping water onto a blaze near the tanker. He made his way to the rear of the last truck. Someone called out; he looked back and never saw the bin door on the truck drop, driving his helmet down around his ears. Darkness engulfed him.
Eyes fluttered and opened. The acrid smell of burning oil overwhelmed his senses, and he gagged. Oliver found himself with one leg twisted and odd angle behind him, wedged against the massive dual axles. Terror set in; he felt his chest heave with anxiety. He was here to help, and now he needed help. Near the rear of the enormous fire truck, he heard the transmission grind into gear and the outriggers retract. They were moving the truck to another location. A scream balanced in his throat as panic consumed him.
At the same moment, two huge shapes covered in yellow turnout gear approached on either side of him. They did not have the smell of men who were in the heat of the fire. One of them kneeled by his twisted leg and spoke.
“Oliver, this may hurt. Relax, and the pain will only last for a few seconds.”
He reached in behind Oliver and gently put pressure on him as the other man lifted Oliver off the ground. The fire truck revved up, and with an effortless motion they moved Oliver out of the way as the truck pulled forward. The man who had freed his leg looked Oliver in the eye and spoke.
“Look at me, Oliver. You’ve dislocated your knee. I’m going to put it back in.”
Oliver felt an unexplainable warmth and calm flow through his whole body as the man wrapped his huge hands around his knee. The man smiled and moved his hands. A pop and excruciating pain was the last thing Oliver remembered as warmth and mysterious calmness flooded his body.
The repositioning of the fire trucks Chief Fox ordered caused the entire battle to turn in their favor, and the rescue continued. He heard his name called and turned to see someone waving at him.
“Chief Fox, they need you at the tents, something about your son.”
“Oliver, Ollie, can you hear me? Ollie its dad, are you okay?”
His eyes opened, and his father leaned over him, holding his hand. With a doctor standing behind him.
“Dad, hey, wow, where am I?”
“Your safe. Do you remember anything?”
“Only the two big guys who saved my life. They were in yellow turnouts and huge, and they knew my name. I dislocated my knee and one of them put it back in place. I passed out and here I am.”
“Son, we don’t have anyone in yellow turnouts, our crew all wear red. The doc says he does not know how you got here.”
The doctor said, “All night we have been hearing about two big guys in yellow who saved them from drowning or burning alive.”
Oliver asked, “Did anyone say they had Psalm 46:10 printed on their jackets and felt an overwhelming sense of calmness come over them when they spoke?”
“Yes, one woman that I talked to said that panic seemed to be swallowed up in calm. What does the writing on their jackets mean?”
Oliver said, “It’s a scripture verse that says, ‘Be still and know that I am God’, and I noticed they did not have the smell of fire on them either.”
The chief said, “Heavenly volunteers, I’ll take them.”
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