Chapter 2
The Mustard Seed's Whisper
Amidst the lingering darkness, a flicker of hope ignites within Anastasia. She discovers the quiet strength of faith, small yet potent, like a mustard seed. This nascent belief begins to shape her perspective and her art. PROTECTED [Verse 1] Don’t judge—I’m not perfect, never claimed to be I stand for the ones who’ve been bruised by what they see For the quiet kids, the ones born poor, the ones who hid For those mistreated by a neighbor or a relative [Pre-Chorus] You tried to break me, tried to shame me, but I’m still here Every scar’s a story, every tear just disappears [Chorus] This one’s been ascended —Protected You can’t hurt me, no, I’m defended God’s beside me, promise kept, I’m resurrected No matter what you do, I know I’m protected [Verse 2] You whispered rumors, threw your stones, but I survived Turned your darkness into armor, now I thrive For every voice that’s ever trembled, I will sing We’re more than what they say—we’re everything [Pre-Chorus] You tried to break me, tried to shame me, but I’m still here Every scar’s a story, every tear just disappears [Chorus] This one’s been ascended —Protected You can’t hurt me, no, I’m defended God’s beside me, promise kept, I’m resurrected No matter what you do, I know I’m protected [Bridge] Defiant, strong, I rise above the pain Safe and sound, I’m sheltered in the rain You can’t steal my light, can’t rewrite my name I’m protected—always, always [Chorus] This one’s been ascended —Protected You can’t hurt me, no, I’m defended God’s beside me, promise kept, I’m resurrected No matter what you do, I know I’m protected [Outro] Safe and protected, I’m standing tall No fear left in me, I’ve conquered it all Retitled and rising, I’m never gonna fall I’m protected, I’m protected, through it all [Chorus] This one’s been ascended —Protected You can’t hurt me, no, I’m defended God’s beside me, promise kept, I’m resurrected No matter what you do, I know I’m protected (CHORUS REPEAT) THE LIGHT INSIDE 🎶 **[Intro]** When I was nine years old, I was baptized in Bossier City, Louisiana at the Baptist church.**[Verse 1]** I was so excited, the preacher gave me a beautiful red Bible, And when I got home with my reading pen and the back page, I wrote, Dear Lord, when I get sixteen, I’m going to run away from home and become a country singer-songwriter, And when I get filthy rich, I promise I’ll feed all your hungry children. Signed and dated, nineteen seventy-eight. **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide **[Verse 2]** Ooh, I was in trouble for writing in the back of my Bible. Grandma said, “You can highlight verses, but you’re not supposed to write, Unless it’s your name, so if you lose it, someone can return it right.” I said, “Grandma, I was writing a letter to the Lord.” **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide **[Bridge]** I didn’t run away at sixteen, but I started writing songs at ten, Sent them to Nashville, they said, “Not yet, find a friend.” So I wrote to my heroes, asked them to give if my song became a hit, Twenty-seven years, I kept my word— Twelve number ones, gave it all to feed the kids. **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide **[Outro]** Raised two kids on my own, Never broke a promise to God, I’m not perfect, but I keep my word— No one left behind, that’s what I swore. Maybe I was just an angel stuck, But the light inside was enough. **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide. I'm gonna let my light shine.I'm gonna let it shine....... GOD'S LIGHT INSIDE 🎶 **[Intro]** When I was nine years old, I was baptized in Bossier City, Louisiana at the Baptist church.**[Verse 1]** I was so excited, the preacher gave me a beautiful red Bible, And when I got home with my reading pen and the back page, I wrote, Dear Lord, when I get sixteen, I’m going to run away from home and become a country singer-songwriter, And when I get filthy rich, I promise I’ll feed all your hungry children. Signed and dated, 1978. **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide **[Verse 2]** Ooh, I was in trouble for writing in the back of my Bible. Grandma said, “You can highlight verses, but you’re not supposed to write, Unless it’s your name, so if you lose it, someone can return it right.” I said, “Grandma, I was writing a letter to the Lord.” **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide **[Bridge]** I didn’t run away at sixteen, but I started writing songs at ten, Sent them to Nashville, they said, “Not yet, find a friend.” So I wrote to my heroes, asked them to give if my song became a hit, Twenty-seven years, I kept my word—my hero dinger friends helpedthen subway sponsored a duet singer songwriter contest,God got me my lucky break . Twelve number ones, and 5 went platinum, gave it all to feed the kids. **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide **[Outro]** Raised two kids on my own, Never broke a promise to God, I’m not perfect, but I keep my word— No one left behind, that’s what I swore. Maybe I was just an angel stuck, But the light inside was enough. **[Chorus]** I carry the light inside my soul A promise to the Lord, I won’t let go From red-ink prayers to dreams that shine I kept my word, through every line The light inside, it’s always mine A promise made, a vow I’ve kept From a little girl with dreams so wide. I'm gonna let my light shine.I'm gonna let it shine, so bright. So you all know the light inside is love and it can heal FAITH OF A MUSTARD SEED [Verse 1] If I can do it You can do it too Got a little bit of fear in your chest But that fire’s still in you They said you’re dreaming too big They tried to cut your wings But you’re made for higher places You’re made for greater things (oh yeah) [Chorus] Faith of a mustard seed That’s all you need Watch that mountain move Watch that water part When you trust and believe Faith of a mustard seed Hold on and see God will carry you God will walk you through To the place you’re meant to be [Verse 2] There’s no such word as “can’t” Don’t let that live in your mind Every “no” that ever hit your heart God can turn it into “rise” Be who you wanna be Dream what you wanna dream Love Hope Faith And peace in your hands You’re stronger than you think (hey!) [Chorus] Faith of a mustard seed That’s all you need Watch that mountain move Watch that water part When you trust and believe Faith of a mustard seed Hold on and see God will carry you God will walk you through To the place you’re meant to be [Bridge] God can move a mountain God can split a sea God can take your broken pieces Turn them into victory So when you feel like letting go Fall down on your knees Say “I believe I believe I believe” And watch your soul get free (yeah) [Chorus] Faith of a mustard seed That’s all you need Watch that mountain move Watch that water part When you trust and believe Faith of a mustard seed Hold on and see God will carry you God will walk you through To the place you’re meant to be (To the place you’re meant to be)
The scratching of Anastasia’s pencil against the paper was the only sound in the quiet room, a soft counterpoint to the distant hum of the world outside. The afternoon sun, usually a boisterous visitor, seemed to tiptoe through the windowpanes, casting gentle, elongated shadows that danced across her worn rug. She clutched the pencil like a tiny wand, its lead poised above a fresh page in her notebook. The pages before it were a tapestry of emotions, some stark and raw, others tinged with a hesitant, fragile hope.
She’d been wrestling with the echoes. They were persistent, these shadows of her past, clinging to the edges of her thoughts like cobwebs. Sometimes, they manifested as a sudden chill in the air, even on the warmest days. Other times, they were the hushed whispers that seemed to slither from forgotten corners of her memory, murmuring words that tried to pull her back into the darkness. They were the ghosts of hurts, the specters of fear, and they had a way of making even the brightest moments feel a little less brilliant.
For a long time, her songs had been a testament to their power. They were the cries of a child lost in a storm, the desperate pleas of a spirit battered and bruised. The melodies were often minor, the lyrics heavy with the weight of what she’d endured. But lately, something had begun to shift. It was subtle, like the first shy unfurling of a fern frond, or the faintest hint of dawn on a starless night.
It had started with a feeling, a whisper so quiet she almost missed it. A tiny spark, no bigger than a pinprick of light, had ignited somewhere deep within her. It was a feeling that defied the shadows, a sense of something more, something enduring. She couldn’t quite name it, this nascent ember, but it felt warm, and it felt real.
One afternoon, while sitting by the window, watching a lone dandelion seed drift on the breeze, the word came to her. *Faith*. It wasn't a thunderclap revelation, but a gentle understanding, like a familiar story finally making sense. She remembered the tiny seeds of dandelions, how they could be scattered by the wind, yet still find a patch of earth to take root and bloom. She remembered the hushed reverence in her grandmother’s voice when she spoke of God’s plan, even when life seemed impossibly hard.
This faith, she realized, was like that. Small, almost insignificant to an outsider, but holding within it an immense potential. It was a mustard seed, tucked away in the soil of her heart, waiting for the right conditions to sprout.
She picked up her pencil again, the echo of doubt trying to tug at her sleeve. *What good is a tiny seed when the weeds of your past are so tall?* The thought was sharp, a familiar sting. But this time, Anastasia didn’t let it take hold. Instead, she focused on the warmth of the new feeling, the quiet reassurance that had begun to bloom alongside it.
She began to write, not about the darkness, but about the light. It was a struggle, at first. Her pen faltered, the words feeling clumsy and inadequate. How could she describe a feeling that was still so new, so delicate?
*Small seed, buried deep,* *A promise that I keep.* *Though storms may rage and winds may blow,* *A tiny hope begins to grow.*
It wasn’t much, just a few lines, but as she wrote them, she felt a subtle shift within her. The shadows seemed to recede, just a little. The whispers grew fainter. It was as if the mustard seed, by simply being acknowledged, was beginning to push its way through the compacted earth of her past.
She thought of her namesake, the lost princess Anastasia, who was said to have risen from the ashes of her family’s tragedy. The name itself felt like a whisper of encouragement, a promise of resilience. She was not just a survivor; she was a testament to the power of what endures.
The next day, the feeling of faith was a little stronger. She found herself humming a new melody, one that had a gentle lilt, a quiet optimism. It was a stark contrast to the mournful tunes that had often filled her room. This melody felt like sunshine on a cool morning, like the soft chirping of birds at dawn.
She sat at her small wooden desk, the notebook open before her. The echoes were still there, a faint murmur at the edge of her hearing, but they no longer held the same power. The mustard seed of faith was beginning to sprout, its delicate tendrils reaching out, seeking the light.
She wrote:
*A tiny seed, a whispered prayer,* *A breath of hope upon the air.* *They tried to break, they tried to bend,* *But in this seed, my strength I’ll lend.*
*It’s not a roar, it’s not a shout,* *Just quiet faith, dispelling doubt.* *A gentle nudge, a steady hand,* *To help me rise and understand.*
She paused, her brow furrowed in concentration. It felt important, this new direction. It felt like a turning point. The pain of her past was undeniable, a scar etched deep into her soul. But this new feeling, this faith, was like a balm, slowly soothing the raw edges.
She remembered the words from one of her earlier songs, a song born from the depths of her despair: *“The darkness is a hungry beast, always wanting more.”* But now, a different thought emerged, a counterpoint to the fear.
*The beast may prowl, the shadows creep,* *But seeds of hope are sown so deep.* *They wait for sun, they wait for rain,* *To wash away the hurt and pain.*
She looked at the words on the page, a sense of wonder blooming within her. It wasn't about forgetting what had happened. It was about finding a way to live *with* it, without letting it define her. It was about acknowledging the scars, but also celebrating the skin that had healed around them.
The concept of love, too, had begun to shift. Before, it had felt like a distant, unattainable star, something beautiful but impossibly far away, obscured by the clouds of her experiences. Now, as the faith grew, the idea of love started to feel a little closer, a little warmer. It was still a gentle flame, not a roaring bonfire, but it was there, a persistent glow in the encroaching twilight.
She thought about the times she had seen acts of kindness, small gestures that had pierced through the gloom. A shared smile, a helping hand, a comforting word. These were the sparks, she realized, the embers of the gentle flame of love, waiting to be fanned.
She added to her poem:
*And though the night was long and cold,* *A story waits, yet to unfold.* *A gentle flame, a steady light,* *To guide me through the darkest night.*
*It whispers tales of warmth and grace,* *A loving touch, a kind embrace.* *Though fear may try to dim its gleam,* *Love is a persistent, waking dream.*
As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, Anastasia felt a sense of quiet accomplishment. The echoes of the past hadn't vanished entirely, but they had been pushed back, their voices muted by the growing chorus of her own resilience. The mustard seed of faith was no longer just a whisper; it was a gentle hum, a steady rhythm in her soul.
She closed her notebook, a soft smile gracing her lips. The journey was far from over, she knew. There would be more shadows to confront, more challenges to face. But now, she had something more than just her pain. She had a flicker of faith, a nascent belief in the possibility of love, and a growing understanding that even the smallest seed, when nurtured, could bloom into something beautiful and strong. She was Anastasia, and she was beginning to rise. The gentle whisper of the mustard seed was becoming a song, a song of hope, a song of survival, a song that promised a new dawn.