Jehovah-shalom: the Lord our peace. The theme presented by this text is the peace which the gospel brings. It is a great mercy to have the gospel of peace, but it is a far greater mercy to have the peace of the gospel.

The nature of this peace was arranged for in the far-back ages of eternity, when the stupendous plan of our redemption in Christ Jesus was determined upon. The foundation of this peace rests on the atoning work of Christ.

To have this peace is to have our wills moving in harmony with the Divine will; it is to have our affections subordinated and controlled by the holy law of God; it is to have our desires elevated—our fears of trouble and death subdued—and our hopes of immortality strong, and bright, and abiding.

Commentary taken from The Biblical Illustrator

and he called the name of it Jehovahnissi; “the Lord is my banner”: alluding to the hands of Moses being lifted up with the rod therein, as a banner displayed, under which Joshua and Israel fought, and got the victory. This may fitly be applied to Christ, who is both altar, sacrifice, and priest, and who is the true Jehovah, and after so called; and who is lifted up as a banner, standard, or ensign in the everlasting Gospel, in order to gather souls unto him, and enlist them under him, and to prepare them for war, and encourage them in it against their spiritual enemies; and as a token of their victory over them, and a direction to them where they shall stand, when to march, and whom they shall follow.

(Commentary from John Gill’s Exposition of the Bible)

Yesterday was my birthday. I have now lived seventy-two years; where did all those years go? I had a wonderful 72nd birthday, shared with family and friends who made it a very special day. I will cherish the memories of the day. However, in the whole scheme of things, it was an “ordinary” day.

As is my habit each year, I spent time pondering the seasons of my life. I recalled the many happy times and the troubled times. I thought about the times of success and failure, joy and sorrow, life and death; times that left their mark on my life, that shaped the person I am at this ripe old age of seventy-two.

In my pondering, I realized that most days, most seasons, were simply “ordinary”. Like most people I have lived a day-to-day life of tears, laughter, expectation, anticipation, frustration…. I thought about the warmth of a morning kiss from my husband, the pure joy of a hug from my daughters or a grandchild, the fun of a lively conversation with my sister, the comfort found from having a cup of coffee with a friend. I remembered how safe I felt watching my daddy at the kitchen table in the early morning hours, scribbling his thoughts on a piece of scrap paper, and my mama in her kitchen, whistling as she went about her work.

Yes, ordinary days in a mostly ordinary life. Uneventful events. But, do you know what? When all is said and done, aren’t our “ordinary” days the ones that matter most? Are they not the “events” that elicit our deepest emotion – the things that, once recalled, make us smile the biggest smiles or, sometimes bring the hottest tears? Isn’t it the ordinary days that give us our life perspective? Aren’t our ordinary days the ones that help us get through the “extraordinary” days? I think so.

Thank you God for ordinary days.