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Martha Ann Jane Stevens Perkins Howell stood with dignity and determination as an African-American member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints between the slave years and the beginning of the Civil Rights movement in the United States. Through her example of seeking education, demonstrating a firm commitment to morality, and readily offering her friendship, she raised her family to be Latter-day Saints even under race-based disadvantages, and she herself rose to some prominence when she accompanied her second husband on an unprecedented mission for the Church. Although most of her posterity left the faith, all were affected for good by Martha Ann’s strength in her beliefs.

In a rare interview with local Arizona media outlets, President Russell M. Nelson and President Dallin H. Oaks addressed a wide array of topics, including immigration, politics, and the whirlwind of changes the Church has recently experienced. This interview preceded President Nelson's historic devotional to an estimated 68,000 people in an NFL stadium.

With more than 50,000 visitors from around the world touring the Rome Italy Temple, this new house of the Lord has generated media attention from major news outlets from CNN to The New York Times.

With 12 undercover celebrities singing dressed as peacocks, rabbits, poodles, and more, Fox's The Masked Singer has caught the public's attention with its mix of bizarre, fame, and mystery. And several rumors have connected Latter-day Saints with the show. But none have been more convincing than a recent clue that appeared on Twitter on February 13—an angel Moroni:

Apples to Apples is no fun and games; Apples to Apples is serious business. At least, that’s what it feels like when I play against my competitive family. Though my husband is equally competitive, he still lost Apples to Apples every time we played with my family.

Sparks. Over and over again just sparks. I sat on my makeshift camping chair (a large, fallen branch) for two hours striking “flint” (a rock I found in the woods) with my steel buffalo striker, rubbing my knuckles raw, and nothing.

There is what we might call a sweet spirituality in many of the stories we are told. My mother introduced me to this quality through some very simple stories, and I have searched for it in its deeper invitations ever since.

The night my brother overdosed on heroin is one I’ll never forget. I can still recall every detail: the thud of his body hitting the floor, my parents’ yells, the terror, the confusion, and the hopelessness that sank in when I realized we were back to square one with his seemingly never-ending battle with addiction.