Come On, God. Catch Up.

There is a line Cheryl Hunter says in this conversation that reveals more about her life than a polished list of leadership lessons ever could. Looking back at herself at 30, she remembers being driven, moving quickly, and feeling certain about where she was headed. She describes her mindset almost humorously now: “I’m moving forward. I’m going quickly. Come on, God, catch up because this is exactly where we should go.” With the benefit of hindsight, she sees something in that younger version of herself that she could not see at the time. She was capable, ambitious, and willing to work, but she had also become so confident in her own direction that she was asking God to follow the plan she had already made.

That admission makes the rest of Cheryl’s story more interesting because this is not someone looking back on a wasted life. She built businesses, raised a family, gave generously, served others, traveled, invested, and experienced opportunities that many people would consider evidence of a successful life. Still, when she thinks about what she would tell her 30-year-old self, her first instinct is not to tell her how to grow faster, make better investments, or become a stronger leader. She would tell her to surrender more fully to God, spend more time building that relationship, and pay closer attention to the balance between work, spiritual life, and home. She even says she would give that younger version of herself more grace, recognizing now how much she simply did not know yet.

There is something about getting older that changes the way you measure a life. Early on, movement can feel like progress because you can point to what is growing, what is being built, or what you are accomplishing. Over time, those measurements seem to lose some of their power. Cheryl talks much more now about people, stewardship, listening, family, and what she can pass on. She notices how many people in their 30s, 40s, and early 50s come to her simply because they need someone to talk to. They want to tell someone what they are going through and have that person listen without immediately trying to fix everything. Cheryl believes people who have already lived through some difficult years have something important to offer here because they have navigated their own broken places with Christ and can now walk beside someone else who is trying to find their way through.

That may be one of the more overlooked forms of usefulness in life. We spend years collecting experience without realizing that eventually the experience itself may become the thing we have to give. Cheryl does not talk about this as a grand mentoring strategy. She talks about sitting with people, listening to her daughters and grandchildren, hearing their point of view, and occasionally being able to add something from what she has learned. At this point in her life, she says she gets more joy from spending time with someone else than almost anything she does.

Her view of money seems to have changed in a similar way. Cheryl says she has generally lived below her means and does not feel much need to collect things because everything you own eventually demands some amount of attention. You have to maintain it, clean it, fix it, or think about it. She would rather use her time elsewhere, and that simplicity has allowed her to experience the joy of sharing what she has been given. She talks about her children and her financial resources in the same language of stewardship because, from her perspective, none of it ultimately belongs to her.

That way of thinking has also shaped how she handles investments. Cheryl once operated in an environment where she had to pay close attention to profit-and-loss statements, food costs, and the daily details of the McDonald’s business. She understands intensity, and she understands what it takes to watch the numbers closely. At this stage of her life, though, she has deliberately chosen not to let financial complexity consume that much of her attention anymore. She works with an advisor she has trusted for more than 25 years, talks with him periodically, and keeps some investments relatively simple because she does not want market volatility and constant financial monitoring taking over her life.

What she seems more interested in now is making sure the next generation understands what she has learned. Cheryl is having conversations with her children about the financial decisions she is making, and she is writing a small class for her grandchildren to teach them some of the business and financial principles that shaped her. She remembers growing up on a Minnesota farm where her parents taught her to divide whatever she earned into three jars: 10 percent for God, 50 percent for the bank and college, and 40 percent to spend. Decades later, she is telling that same story to her grandchildren and watching them encounter ideas about money and planning that they had never really considered.

There is a subtle shift running through all of this. Cheryl is still learning, still thinking about business, still reading, still giving, and still involved in the lives of people around her, so this is not a story about backing away from life. It is a story about becoming more selective about what deserves your attention. When you have lived long enough to see how quickly seasons change, it becomes harder to believe that every opportunity deserves a yes or that every measurable form of growth deserves more of your energy.

That is probably why the conversation about “finishing well” feels deeper than a conversation about retirement or legacy. Cheryl talks about Paul pressing toward the mark and describes finishing well as continuing to move toward where God is taking you instead of simply looking back at where God has used you before. The experiences and abilities accumulated over a lifetime still matter, but their purpose may change. The business knowledge that once helped you build something may later help you guide someone. The money you once worked hard to earn may become something you can steward for others. The mistakes you wish you had avoided may become exactly the wisdom someone younger needs to hear.

Maybe that is what makes Cheryl’s comment about her 30-year-old self so revealing. At 30, she was trying to get somewhere, and she was moving fast enough to assume God should keep up. Years later, she seems less interested in getting God to bless her momentum and more interested in recognizing where He is already at work, then joining Him there.

That is a very different way to move through life, and it may take a few gray hairs to understand the difference.

Cheryl Hunter had built the kind of career most people would call successful. She spent 17 years with McDonald’s Corporation, eventually becoming a Director of Operations. Then she spent another 16 years as an owner-operator, building strong restaurants and leading a large team.

Then she was passed over for another restaurant she fully expected to receive. Her numbers were good. Her experience was there. Everything seemed to say she had earned the opportunity. When she didn’t get it, Cheryl was frustrated. But over the next several months, she began asking a harder question.

Why did losing this opportunity bother me so much?

That question eventually exposed something she had not fully realized. Her career had become more than something she did. It had become part of how she saw herself. That is what makes Cheryl’s story so interesting. She was not failing. She was doing well. She cared about her people, tried to lead with her faith, and was running successful businesses.

The problem was not that her career was bad. The problem was that something good had become too important. Eventually, Cheryl made the decision to sell her restaurants.

What came next was uncomfortable. One day, she had a to-do list with 83 things on it. The next day, after selling the business, there was almost nothing on the list. When you spend decades being needed, making decisions, and solving problems, an empty calendar can force you to figure out who you are without the job.

Cheryl does not like to call what followed “retirement.”

She calls it redeployment.

Instead of trying to recreate the career she had just left, she began asking how everything she had learned could be invested into other people.

Today, she coaches entrepreneurs and nonprofit leaders and uses decades of business experience to help other people grow. One story near the end of our conversation captures the change perfectly. A woman Cheryl had been coaching told her that her business had finally become profitable and she was preparing to hire her first employee.

Cheryl once led around 180 employees.

But she said she was just as excited about this woman hiring employee number one as she had been about leading 180 herself. That may be the difference between success and significance. There is a season when you are trying to build something. There may also come a season when the better question becomes:

Who can I help build something?

Cheryl’s story is a reminder that walking away from a title does not mean your useful years are over. Sometimes the experience you spent decades gaining becomes most valuable when you start giving it away.