When my 14-year-old son, Mark, planned to attend a Christian golf camp in Florida, he was excited. I was worried, it was Mark's first time flying alone, and he'd be traveling across the country from our California home. I just knew something would go wrong.
As I walked Mark to his gate at the airport, I lost count of the number of times I told him how to find his connecting flight. But his impatient sigh clearly communicated I'd reached his limit.
"I know, Mom," he said, rolling his eyes. 'I'll be OK."
I wasn't comforted. I knew he didn't know how to read the arrival/departure monitor. "He'll never find the correct gate," I moaned to myself. …