Human love can do much, but there are times when human love is helpless. Have you ever seen a mother watch by a sick child? I have seen a little one lie in her cot with fevered brow, fighting for life. I have seen her eyes make mute appeal to her mother, and I have seen the mother sitting there in torment and agony, watching the death struggle going on and powerless to help, the very picture of impotent, defeated love. But God is perfect in _helpfulness_. There is no limit to HIS power. He will be a refuge for us in trouble; He will make our bed in sickness; He will make us conquerors over temptation; when we pass through the waters He will not suffer them to overflow us; and when we enter the valley, into which no human friend can accompany us, God will be with us still, His rod and staff they will comfort us. “Our Father, who art in Heaven,” one other idea the words suggest to me. “Heaven” is spoken of in the Bible as the place of dominion and authority. “The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens,” says the Psalmist, “and His kingdom ruleth over all.” In another psalm we get the picture of kings and princes plotting together to destroy the kingdom of God. “He that sitteth in the heavens,” in the place of supreme dominion, “shall laugh.” Your governors and kings are not the true rulers of the universe; they may fret and fume and bluster as they will, but they are only puppets in the hands of Him who sitteth in the heavens. When, then, our Lord teaches us to say, “Our Father, who art in Heaven,” the blessed truth conveyed by it is, that our Father is in the place of supreme dominion, that love rules the universe. It is the truth proclaimed by the little silk weaver as she passed through the streets of Asolo and sang, “God’s in His heaven—all’s right with the world.” What a blessed truth this is, and what peace and strength it brings into the soul when it is realised and felt. Paul had realised it, so he could say, “I know that all things work together for good.” That President of the Orange Free State had realised it, whose favourite word was, “All will come right,” which word stands engraved to-day on his tombstone! Yes! what peace will be ours when we remember our Father is in Heaven. I remember hearing my friend Mr. Hopkin Rees, one of our devoted Chinese missionaries, telling about one of his converts in that far-off land, who had to bear much from heathen relatives when she became a Christian. They beat her, locked her up in a room, and tried to starve her into surrender. How do you think that poor woman sustained herself? I will tell you. By the thought that her Father was in Heaven, and that “all would come right.” Mr. Rees had translated an old Welsh hymn into Chinese, the last line of every verse in which runs, “Fy nhad, sydd urth y lliw.” It cannot sound as sweet in any other tongue, but this is a rough translation, “My Father’s at the helm.” And that was the song that poor woman sang day after day, “My