The rotating lights of the squad car flashed on and its shrill siren cut through the quiet of the inner-city Chicago neighborhood.
A taxi which had been weaving from one side of the street to the other came to a halt. In plain view of the officers in the squad car, the taxi driver opened his door, poured out the contents of a liquor bottle, and started running.
The policemen raced after him and caught him. There was a scuffle, a grappling of hands and arms. The cabdriver worked one of his arms free in the fray, reached under his jacket and pulled a handgun from a shoulder holster. He leveled it toward one of the officers. Both their weapons were still holstered.
“No! Hold it! Don’t do it,” they shouted.
Before they could react further, the cab driver shot. Officer Matura’s gun hand was hit. The driver fired again, and Officer Duffy crumpled to the pavement, his bulletproof vest pierced by a bullet.
Officer Matura stepped backwards, drew his own revolver, and fired every cartridge at the cabdriver. Shooting with his left hand, his shots went wild and missed. Out of ammunition, he retreated down the street to reload.
The cab driver turned and shot Officer Duffy again as he lay in the street, and then he went in pursuit of Officer Matura, following him down the street for half a block.
Duffy wasn’t dead. He had been shot twice, but he still was conscious. When he saw his assailant leave he struggled to his hands and knees and started crawling. He crawled about twenty feet to behind a parked van and collapsed. He was trying vainly to raise himself to crawl again when he heard a woman whisper to him, “Lie still!”
The woman saw he was dazed and didn’t understand. “Lie still!” she repeated urgently.
The gunman returned to his cab and saw that the police officer’s body was missing. He began looking for him. “Where is that guy? I’m going to kill him,” he shouted.
The young woman, Anne Claxton, quietly slipped into a position between the would-be murderer and the wounded policeman, blocking his view of Duffy lying on the pavement.
The taxi driver made a futile search for him for a few seconds, and then jumped back into his cab and sped away. There was a car chase and another gun battle before police were able to take him into custody.
Anne Claxton, standing bravely between the wounded officer and his foe, reminds us of the Lord Jesus Christ who has stood between us and our foe—Satan. To shield us from the judgment our sins deserve, the Lord Jesus went to the cross and died. He, the just One, suffered for us, the unjust, to bring us to God. Now all who believe on Him shall never come into condemnation but have passed from death to life. Rom. 8:11There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. (Romans 8:1) says, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.”
If it had not been for the intervention of Anne Claxton, the policeman would have likely been killed; if it were not for the Lord Jesus’ death on the cross, not a single member of the human race could ever have been saved from their sins.
Anne whispered into the ear of the wounded officer, “Lie still! Lie still!” If you have realized your own danger, if you know that you need the Savior, won’t you stop trying to help yourself and simply receive salvation as a free gift from Him who intervened between you and the enemy of your soul and died on your behalf?