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Some years ago there was a rather serious tragedy in our ward. A great woman, the wife of our former bishop and a woman beloved and respected in our ward family, contracted cancer of the worst kind. This was a vivacious, effervescent woman who lifted and inspired everyone she met. As the disease became worse, I gave her blessings. Other General Authorities gave her blessings. One of the blessings I gave was in the presence of her seventeen-year-old son. Another blessing was given to her when her son was eighteen. Our Heavenly Father, though, had something else in mind for her, and she was taken home to Him.

In the decade it took for us to research, pray over, write, and re-write 18 essays about the Messiah, we read works by New Testament scholars. One whose specialty was social and religious customs in His day had a formula; he said that seeing the content or plot of a scripture in the context of its time and place revealed important messages. Simply put, he said, “Content in context is meaning.”

Missionary life—most of the time you go through the same routine, maybe a new contact here or there. But, occasionally you stumble on those epic moments when you realize: yes, this is what it means to be a missionary.

Most of us are well acquainted with the responsibilities of service. I am sure many of you have baked cookies until your spatulas melted or baby-sat your neighbor's children until your brains sputtered. Occasionally when I am in such situations I fear my fatigue will slip into resentment, and then I wonder if being stretched so thin may not only prevent my developing new charity but actually diminish the supply I thought I had. I have learned, however, that though we may not have a completely willing heart every time we serve, such service molds our heart, blesses us, and does enlarge our capacity to give. We must remember, too, during periods of our lives in which we feel that all we can do is keep our own immediate circle of families or friends afloat, that emotional and spiritual service to others can sometimes be as important as physical acts.

The value of preserving and sharing ancestral stories was recently verified by researchers who were trying to understand why some people, including children, are better able than others to cope with serious, even disabling stress and trauma. One study found that “the more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, [and] the higher their self-esteem.” This factor was indeed “the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness.” Those with “the most self-confidence” had what one researcher called “a strong ‘intergenerational self.’ They know they belong to something bigger than themselves" (Bruce Feiler, “The Stories That Bind Us,” The New York Times, March 15, 2013).

A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh stories have the power to charm children and adults alike. The antics of the “bear of very little brain” and other delightful animals in Hundred Acre Wood are sprinkled with words of wisdom and valuable life lessons. But did you know that Mormons have played a big role in Disney’s Winnie the Pooh productions over the past few decades? Here are five fascinating connections.

An estimated 4.7 million people watched Jaxon Willard dance on NBC’s World of Dance Wednesday night. Through high-flying leaps and balletic turns, Jaxon Willard told a story of personal struggle, a struggle his mother Cindy Willard told LDS Living her son was still going through at the time of the episode’s filming.

Anyone raised in the Church or given the missionary discussions knows that it was the angel Moroni who appeared to Joseph Smith, revealing the location of an ancient record we now know as the Book of Mormon. But in the early days of the Church, that fact was not so clear. Some people believed it was Nephi, not Moroni, who revealed the location of the Book of Mormon.

Summertime and camping are pretty much synonymous with each other. There's just nothing like taking off into the great outdoors, roasting marshmallows, and looking up at the starry sky on a summer night.