-by Beth Calmes, missionary to Tanzania
Missionaries don’t always get along!! Apologies for shocking you… “Regretfully, the number one reason [missionaries leave the field] is due to conflict with other missionaries.” (IMB, 2017) Mitch and I know this is true, we’ve seen it happen, it’s never pretty– it’s never Christ honoring. What is Christ honoring is when we can make relationships work, and work well for the edification of one another and for the glory of God and his work. I’m thankful that I have developed some very good relationships with missionary women over the years. One that stands out was my friendship with Shelly Henderson Mwamakula.
Shelly was my antithesis, but opposites often attract. When I was serious and brooding, she was laughing and lighthearted. When I drove in Dar traffic like a demolition driver, Shelly took her time, gave the beggars candy, and took sips on her giant water jug…you get the picture– the chill in contrast to my intensity. When I was ready to throw in the towel in our ghetto ministry she always said, “I don’t know what you are talking about, I think things are going well.” Shelly was good for me, and I think I was good for her. We sharpened each other like iron. Sometimes it hurt to sharpen and get sharpened, but through it we developed an enduring friendship.
Shelly first came to Tanzania as a 25 year old intern. She left Tanzania with the hope to return one day as a married missionary. When marriage did not happen Shelly came back anyway and for the past 16 years she helped us in our Temeke church plant– immeasurably so. She took over and ran our children’s ministry (Thank you Shelly!!), and did a fantastic job developing children’s curriculum in Swahili and training Tanzanians to be children’s leaders.
Shelly and I had many shared adventures: there was our trip to Kenya — I hit the Tanzania flagpole at the border crossing and got in some hot water with a customs official who wanted to impound my car while Shelly calmly watched Abbey, who was about eight at the time. Another time we were stuck for over an hour in a long traffic jam downtown waiting for the presidential processional to pass as he headed towards his inauguration. As it turned out, I was obliviously blocking the driveway to the president’s private entrance when suddenly Shelly started bouncing frantically in the passenger seat and screaming, “It’s the president, it’s the president!” I looked out my side window to see the President of Tanzania in the back seat of a black Mercedes, staring at us while a policeman was on his motorbike next to me, angrily motioning for me to move my car! Good times.. well, at least in hindsight!
We laughed together, cried together, occasionally argued together, but through it all we loved each others as sisters, and we shared a mutual bond from ministering together in a challenging place while figuring out life in a third world country. Sisters sometimes struggle, but they work it out and they sharpen one another in the process.
Shelly never complained about her singleness, but it was hard. She loved Mitch’s and my three girls as her own nieces. My daughter, Abbey, thought of her as a second mother. I have a husband that takes care of all the challenging issues like car repairs, government office trips, and permit renewals. Shelly had to figure these things out for herself. She always took them in stride. Then, wonderfully, over the course of time a Tanzanian man who had been her friend for years, became more than a casual friend. Shelly and Ray grew to love each other and they married on Easter Sunday of 2017. She was radiantly happy.
Two months ago my dear friend received a difficult medical diagnosis and after two surgeries and several medical setbacks the Lord has brought her to Heaven to be with him. For Ray and her family, I hurt. For myself, and my family, I also hurt. We loved her…my daughter, Abbey, told me, “Mom, you’ve lost your comrade.” Yes I have, and it’s hard. However, I know for Shelly, the pain is gone, her joy is complete in Christ and her laughter is even more alive and genuine than it could ever be here on earth.
By God’s grace, Shelly and I were not another missionary statistic. She was a sharpening iron to me. I cannot begin to count the times we sharpened each other– painful at the time, but always working towards making each other into better friends and better women of God. She made me laugh– often and well– and laughter is the best medicine– it’s true, read Proverbs 17:22.
Farewell dear friend. Tutaonana tena siku moja (we will see each other again!)