Our smoke detector recently went off when cooking went awry in our oven. It did it’s job – blasting out loud siren-like shrieks as I try to fan the smoke away from it with my sweater.
After about ten seconds, I realized that in between the screaming from the detector, a slight, quiet, female robot’s voice called out, “Fire. Fire. Fire.”
I realized that I had to strain to listen to this voice telling me there could be a fire involved and that this alleged fire could be causing the smoke detector to cry out like a woman in travail, except worse. It’s a lot like listening to the Holy Ghost, and I plan on either telling this story as a poorly constructed parable for a sacrament meeting talk, or a testimony, whichever opportunity comes first.
That’s how I know that the Church is true.