And away we go …

I have no idea what to expect.

This poses a bit of a concern for me, as I’m known for being somewhat of a planner, although another technical term often used is “worrywart.” Although I’m improving at “lightening up,” “going with the flow” and “removing the stick from my (well, you know),” I’m still known to obsess over details. Not only do I like to know the who-what-where-when-why-and-how, I often need to know the exact whos-whats-wheres-etc.

For nine days, though, I’m moving past that, into a world of unknown for me.

I’m going to Haiti.

I can check off the things I’m certain of on one finger: I know that I’m staying with my sister, brother-in-law and three nephews, who have all been in the country for about a month as part of a longer-term mission effort.

Everything else about the trip is part of the great unknown, from what to expect traveling through customs to how I’ll get around Haiti to what I’ll actually be doing once I’m in the village. Once I leave the comforts of my Georgetown home, I’m about 98.3 percent clueless as to what comes next over the course of nine days.

As a result, I can add another finger to the Things I’m Certain Of (with apologies to grammar teachers for ending with a preposition, but hey, I’m a journalist, not a writer): I’m scared.

This isn’t a normal “scare” for me, though, like what I feel around heights or pretty women. This is more of a “I don’t know what happens next, but I’m confident enough to go with it because I’m sure it will end well” feeling, as opposed to heights/pretty women, which prompt almost the same reaction: “I’m going to fall, and when I do, it’s going to be painful to watch.”

Part of my calm comes from knowing that I’ll be with my family. This is a chance to just be with them, in an unfamiliar environment, foreign in the truest since of the word. My nephews, ages 13, 11 and soon-to-be 8, are soaking in the experience, and I have the chance to share this with them. They’re being homeschooled while in Haiti, and they’ve expressed an interest in getting me to help with their writing. I pray for patience, as I’m not the best with kids, particularly when it comes to something like baseball and writing, things that I can do but can’t quite explain the theory behind why I can do them.

A bigger part of the calm, though, comes from knowing this is where I’m supposed to be in my life right now. Three years ago, I participated in Faith Baptist Church’s Mission Blitz, an event that saw dozens of church members go out into the community to do good deeds as part of our mission to “outlove the world.” Now, I’m hoping to take the “world” part of that statement a bit more literally, traveling beyond my comfort zone and sharing myself with those in abject poverty.

Look, I don’t kid myself: one person can’t really make a difference in all this, but it’s a start. Maybe I’ll get more people involved. Maybe I’ll come back with changes internally and be able to be a better, more loving person once I’m home in Georgetown.

As I’ve said, I have no real idea what to expect.

And for once, that’s just how I want it.