REXBURG, Idaho — It's hard to miss an answer to prayer when it comes knocking on your front door.
Yet that's what happened, according to members of the Rick and Ruth
Clark family, who have spent the last several weeks marveling at what
they believe is God's response to the prayers of their sons, all four
of whom are in wheelchairs as muscular dystrophy has taken its toll on
their mobility. They have little to no use of their limbs.
There was no spontaneous healing, no overnight cure. But for the Clark
family, a "miracle" they could never have imagined or hoped for
occurred.
It was a busy Saturday last summer at the Clark home, with laundry and
household chores in progress. Ruth happened to be outside as her
brother Roy, a local sheriff, drove past, escorting nationally
syndicated radio talk show host Glenn Beck, who was in Idaho on a
fundraising visit for then-presidential candidate Mitt Romney.
She waved and went about her business, thinking to herself: "I'm so glad they didn't stop. We're a mess."
But minutes later, Beck was at her door, visiting with her sons and
stepping over piles of laundry as they showed him their hunting
trophies displayed throughout the house.
Ruth was mortified, but her sons were delighted.
After a few
minutes visiting, Beck made his way to the living room, greeted her
with a "God bless you," gave her a hug and left, saying he would see
them again.
Ruth was still reeling from the embarrassment a couple of hours later
when her brother called, apologizing for the impromptu visit. Not the
way she would have designed it, she said, but that was that. Or so the
family thought.
A couple of months passed.
Fall was in full swing, and in Idaho, that means hunting season. The
Clark boys — Russ, Chris, Lael and Ben — were thinking of big game
between doctor visits. During a trip to University Hospital in Salt
Lake City, Lael hit a ridge in the sidewalk in his wheelchair and fell
head-first to the pavement, breaking several bones in his face.
After a hospital stay, he and his mother returned home, and the family
set up a hospital bed in the living room for Lael, whose mouth was
wired shut. As the Clarks adjusted their routine around the latest
challenge, there was a knock at the door.
"There (Beck) was again," Ruth said, stunned that his promised return
had actually materialized. He came in and visited for nearly an hour
with the entire family, talking up the latest news and hearing their
tales.
Again he said goodbye, and the boys knew they would have something to
look forward to as Beck said he would return in February for the
dedication of the Rexburg Temple. It was a friendship in the making.
A week before Christmas Eve, the Clarks got an unexpected phone call.
"Ruth, we've kept it a secret long enough," said the excited voice on
the other end of the line. "We thought we better tell you before you
hear it from somebody else."
The news? Beck had worked with local organizers to plan a benefit event
for the Clark family, to be held Feb. 1 at the Civic Auditorium in
Idaho Falls. It would be a Christmas to remember.
"I was just speechless," Ruth recalls, the look of surprise and
amazement still reflected in the telling. "I've cried so much (with
joy) that I'm numb by now. Things just started rolling after that."
Ten minutes after the phone call, a television news crew was on their
doorstep — the first of several to seek them out, opening their lives
and their challenges to an audience of thousands they didn't know and
would never meet.
"At first it was uncomfortable, but it's OK now," Ruth tells a reporter
as the rest of her family nods. They've had some time to adjust to the
spotlight.
Feb. 1 came quickly, with preparations and anticipation running high in
the Clark home. It was to have been the weekend of the Rexburg Temple
dedication, but the death of LDS Church President Gordon B. Hinckley
reordered plans for some who were scheduled to attend the benefit.
As the guests of honor at a VIP reception before the event began, the
Clarks mingled with southeast Idaho's elite, sharing their appreciation
with all who had helped organize a night they say they'll never forget.
Beck and his wife were mingling with the crowd, and he was preparing to
go onstage when he got a phone call.
It was Jon Huntsman Sr., who had seen Beck with the Clarks on TV the
night before. He asked Beck how much money he thought the benefit would
raise. "About $100,000," was the reply. "Then you tell the Clarks there
is a check in the mail from Jon Huntsman," Beck told the crowd that
night.
And he had yet another surprise for the Clarks' growing list of "wow"
moments as the show progressed. Musician and hunter-extraordinaire Ted
Nugent was calling from Texas. "Old uncle Ted wants to take you boys on
a hunting trip," he told the Clarks, as the boys beamed. "Anywhere you
want to go."
Not to be outdone in the dreams-come-true category, the master of
ceremonies had a presentation of her own from a local jeweler: an
eight-diamond necklace for Ruth — seven diamonds representing her
immediate family members and the eighth a reminder of the community
that organized the benefit.
"It was just an awesome night," Ruth remembers, "and Glenn, bless his heart, it's a miracle he crossed our path."
The next morning, the Clarks capped their big night with Beck during a
private breakfast meeting, where he told them about his conversion to
the LDS Church.
Huntsman's $100,000 check arrived two weeks ago, and Rexburg Mayor
Shawn Larsen presented it to the Clarks, who've decided to use part of
it to adapt a donated van for wheelchair access. Once the van is ready,
they'll be able to travel together for the first time as a family — and
even better, say the boys, their parents won't have to lift them in and
out of the vehicle.
After that, they'll decide whether the remaining funds will allow them
to build a new home with wheelchair access and wide hallways, or
whether they'll simply modify their small, existing home so the boys
can make their way around a bit easier. They've had offers of help from
several local building suppliers and contractors for everything from
plumbing to cement work to granite countertops.
And though it's been almost three weeks since their night onstage, the
Clarks say they are still amazed at the depth and drama of their
answers to prayer.
"It's really too much to comprehend right now," said 29-year-old Lael,
a former drag racer who enjoyed fast cars and snowmobiles before his
disease put an end to that phase of his life. "It's like a big dream
that's hit. You would never think it would ever happen to you or your
family. To have that happen, and then all this ... (Glenn) lives clear
across the country, but he happened to be here, and to do this for us
is just amazing."
The van and the hunting trip are the icing on the cake.
Russell, 26, is still able to work part-time at a local market research
company as a quality assurance supervisor. He says the fact that so
many dreams came true, virtually all at once, "hasn't really all sunk
in yet. It's a blessing, and it's just going to be a lot easier on our
parents not having to worry about lifting us, and having more room in
the house to get around."
He told his brothers they could choose their own hunting adventures,
but he's looking to "shoot a big old grizzly bear in Alaska. It's
awesome that people out there are willing to help out no matter what."
The family has managed, though they acknowledge there have been tough times.
"With everything we've gone through — we all walked until we were 13 or
14 — so seeing what they went through in a way got me prepared,"
Russell said. "It was hard when I went to a wheelchair, but I have
brothers that were a good example for me."
The quiet one of the bunch, 30-year-old Ben, completed an associate's
degree at BYU-Idaho in architectural technology and is working on his
bachelor's degree.
"It's been a rough time, but it's paid off in the end," he said. "We'll just never give up."
Christopher, 33, a former police dispatcher, says he initially had a
hard time accepting the fact that he would always be a quadriplegic.
There was a time when "I didn't make the best choices." Going through
his second divorce, his life hit "rock bottom," he says. "But about
five years ago, life turned around and my attitude changed with the
support of my sister and the rest of my family." Watching his only
sister, Rebecca, deal with dying four years ago put a new perspective
on his own troubles.
Her help, his family's support and "being active in the (LDS) Church,
just turned me completely around," Christopher said. "I'm at peace with
everything. I'm not angry, bitter or mad like I was when I was younger.
I don't feel sorry for myself or complain. I've just accepted things
and love life and enjoy it the best I can."
As the family patriarch, Rick had to quit working several years ago due
to his own disability. He looks back at 34 years of marriage and family
with miracles sprinkled along the way, some of them disguised as
challenges.
"When I first met Ruth I was inactive in the church, but she married me
and turned me around," he said. "You find out what's really important
in life. It's your faith, your love for Jesus Christ and your family."
The death of his only daughter, Rebecca, has fortified Rick's faith
that one day, they will be together again — healthy and well and
gratified at having met life's challenges head-on.
"I look at it this way: she is preparing everything up there for us to
meet her," he said. "It will be a joyous day when that happens."
People frequently ask if they would change their circumstances if they could.
"We say no — we've learned a lot along the way," Rick said.
For Ruth, who supports the family working full-time at BYU-Idaho by day
and as caregiver by night, "this is normal life," she said. "You do
what you have to do."
Ruth grew up with a father who had muscular dystrophy, so she was
well-acquainted with the disease and its devastation. She and her
sisters were tested and told they were not carriers of the disease, but
life didn't turn out that way.
"But I wouldn't change it," she said.
As for the future, their financial good fortune and the night they'll
never forget: "I cried half that night," Ruth remembers, the emotion
welling up again.
The word "miracle" is sprinkled all through their conversation.
"I don't know," she said. "We're just used to making do with what we've had."