What does "right" look like to me?

The morning of Hava's baptism I was a little frantic.  We were cleaning up our hotel room and trying to get over to the baptism site by 7:30.  Things had gone smoothly but it was 7:05 and I still hadn't showered.  I got more and more frustrated until Quinn stepped in and calmly said, "Go ahead and take your shower.  It will work out just fine."

Grumbling a bit about how I had just messed up and how everything was just going to pot, I headed for the shower.  Venting heaven-ward, I muttered, "I messed up again.  It always seems like no matter what I do, no matter how much I plan or sacrifice, things just don't seem to go right."

I had an interesting response from heaven. "And what does 'right' look like to you, my daughter?"

Flustered a little, I replied, "Well, everything is on time. No one in inconvenienced.  Things just work...well.  And smoothly."

I felt a little heavenly chuckle at that.  "If that is what 'right' is, it hardly ever works out that way for me."

I started to realize that God allows all of us to have our agency, He has a plan and a direction, but He has all these little bodies with agency doing their own things.  He makes the environment as awesome as possible...but then He lets us make our own choices.  And how that must look!  Is the "end" really His concern, or is it the process?

Should my focus in "getting places right" shift a little more to "how" I am getting there?  How do I treat the people on the way to accomplishing those tasks that I am so set on having "just right"?  Perhaps that is the more important "right" than the timing or smoothness of the events!   Perhaps what really matters is how we treat others on the way to getting things done, the way we look at and treat others, the way we respect their agency but still try to create a good environment...perhaps that is what I should want to have done "right."  And that is something I have complete control over: how I react to and treat those around me as we move from objective to objective.  

The goal at the end of our lives is a changed heart, not a list of "to dos" checked off. Perhaps our success or failure will be measured rather by how those "to dos" changed us, not how many we got done nor how they turned out?