At 17, I job-shadowed an accountant for a day. I walked out having made exactly one decision: absolutely not. Taxes felt cold, transactional, mechanical — the opposite of everything I wanted to do with my life. I was good at math, sure. But math wasn't the point.
So I became a pastor instead. I spent a decade in student ministry, then planted a church in the Galena and Sunbury area. Thirty years of walking alongside people in their hardest moments — grief, crisis, loss, broken marriages, the quiet grind of financial stress. That last one showed up more often than most people talk about.
Then came COVID. The church went bivocational. I picked up TurboTax as a stopgap, then moved to H&R Block, then sat for the Enrolled Agent exam — the highest credential the IRS issues — and passed. What started as a stopgap became something I couldn't ignore: people needed exactly this, and almost nobody was doing it this way.
Common Tax launched because the vending-machine version of tax services — show up in March, get your return, disappear — was failing the people I cared about. Business owners who didn't know what they didn't know. Clergy filing incorrectly for years because no software handled their situation. W-2 employees owing every April with no idea why.
I'm not pastoring numbers. I'm pastoring people who happen to have a tax problem. The tools are different. The instinct is exactly the same.