When I was a teenager, my Christian Leadership teacher pulled me out of English and took me for a walk around campus. She knew my grandfather had just died after years of suffering with ALS, pretty objectively one of the worst ways to go. He wasn't a believer.
She put her hand on my shoulder and told me that even though it's almost unbearable to know that my grandpa is in Hell now, something great could come of it. I could make sure that doesn't happen to another person. Like Mothers Against Drunk Driving.
My grandpa was an incredible person. I loved him a lot. Everyone who knew him loved him.
Almost immediately after that conversation, I decided God was evil. It took a little longer to shed God altogether. My last two years in college, I helped put together one of the largest atheist conferences in the country. Some of the attendees had been raised in secular homes. Most hadn't, they'd been spiritually damaged at a time when they were vulnerable.
That was more or less the disposition of my soul until about 18 years later, when I met God again and was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.