“Nistetter. What kind of name is that? No one knows how to pronounce it.”
Throughout my childhood, my Daddy would remind us what kind of name that was. We were Nistetters, and we were held to a higher standard because of our name.
He loved us so much that, like our Father in heaven, he called us to excellence, even though we wanted to slump sometimes. He called us to stretch ourselves.Continue reading Celebrating Fathers