Ammonae Scott never set out to rewrite the rules of LDS Music—but then again, faith rarely follows a script. Raised in the pulse of Brooklyn, where streetlights hum and subway cars rattle like the rhythm section of a lost Motown record, Ammonae moved through the world with her own tempo. The church pews called her one way, the city another. She walked both paths, one foot in the shadows, one in the light.

By the time she stepped into the studio to record Beloved Daughter, Ammonae had already seen enough to know that faith isn’t always fireworks—it’s often the quiet hum beneath the noise, the flicker that won’t go out. With the Young Women Theme written on her heart, she let the slow groove take over, weaving a melody that speaks not in grand declarations, but in steady, knowing resolve. This wasn’t a song for the pulpit. It was a song for the in-between—the late-night subway rides, the whispered prayers before dawn, the moments when doubt and devotion stand side by side.

Her voice drifts through the track like candlelight, each note a quiet promise that she is known, seen, and held. The groove is deliberate, the rhythm unshaken, the message clear: Jesus Christ doesn’t forget His daughters. Ammonae sings it the way she’s lived it—with reverence, with fire, and with the quiet confidence of someone who has walked through the night and found herself standing in the glow of something eternal.