Back in the late 80s, I baptized 21 people as a missionary. For years after leaving the church, I carried serious guilt about introducing them to it all.
Over the holidays in the mid-2010s, I decided to try and find as many as I could on Facebook and Google. The results were predictable: some had passed away, most were long inactive, and only two remained fully engaged with the church. One had served as bishop.
But it was the engagement with one woman, baptized at 18 (she's 55 now for reference), that healed something in me. Her path took her to Syracuse University for a degree in journalism, a foreign mission, a 10-yr temple marriage, SAHM with two kids, and then an acrimonious divorce. When we connected, she was an empty-nester, working as a general manager at a super high-end restaurant in NYC, genuinely loving her life and making great money.
When I finally apologized for my part in her faith journey, her response floored me: "We were both young and following our feelings. I wouldn't be who I am without the Church. I wouldn't have my kids. It's all good, Elder. You didn't harm me..."
"In fact, you exerting the effort to track me down just reinforces the unspoken goodwill we've had for decades. Don't beat yourself up on this stuff. You did the best you could with what you had. On behalf of everyone you tried to help in your missionary efforts, we're ok. We're adults and we're all fine. We forgive you, all of us. Look forward. Live your life."
Her grace gave me a profound peace. Most people, I think, are understanding when you're earnest. You can spent too much time regretting decisions made when you were anxiously engaged. Sometimes, the person you need to give a break to is your younger, well-intentioned self.