I am truly thankful for my health that has permitted me to

Hear, O traveler on the path of life, the words of Yadier Molina, the steadfast guardian behind the plate, who declared: “I am truly thankful for my health that has permitted me to obtain optimal results in my career.” These are words of humility and deep recognition, not the boasting of triumph but the acknowledgment of the unseen foundation upon which all triumphs rest: the blessing of health. Without it, skill falters, ambition fades, and dreams wither. With it, the door to greatness stands open, waiting only for discipline and devotion to pass through.

The origin of this utterance lies not in fleeting glory, but in a life of endurance. For Molina’s career was not defined by a single season or a passing achievement; it was shaped by years of resilience, by battles won through both body and spirit. His thankfulness is born of knowing how fragile the body can be, how quickly a life of competition may crumble under the weight of injury or illness. Thus, to give thanks for health is to recognize it as the silent ally, the invisible strength that undergirds every victory and every milestone.

Consider the tale of Epictetus, the philosopher who, though crippled from youth, taught that one’s true freedom is found not in circumstances but in the mastery of one’s inner life. Even in his weakness, he forged strength of spirit, showing that though the body may break, the soul may yet rise. Molina’s words, however, reflect the opposite blessing: not of enduring frailty, but of having been granted the physical endurance to stand firm and excel in his calling. Both truths remind us that the state of the body is no trivial matter, for it shapes the possibilities of one’s journey.

Molina’s gratitude also carries a warning, though wrapped in gentleness: do not take for granted what is fragile. The strong back, the quick hand, the clear eye—these may fade in a moment. To awaken each day with strength in your limbs and breath in your lungs is no ordinary gift. It is the very foundation upon which careers, families, and dreams are built. In giving thanks for his health, Molina teaches us to see what is often invisible to the hurried soul: that wellness is wealth.

Let us not mistake his words as mere personal reflection. They are a mirror for us all. For what good is ambition without the body to carry it? What value is wisdom if illness prevents it from being shared? Just as a warrior sharpens his sword, so too must a man or woman guard their health—not as vanity, but as stewardship of the vessel through which life itself flows. To honor our bodies is to honor the work we are called to do upon this earth.

And what lesson, then, must we take from this? It is this: gratitude must meet discipline. Do not merely thank the heavens for your health; strengthen it through wise living. Eat with moderation, rest with purpose, labor with balance, and guard against the vices that corrode the body. Treat health not as a guarantee but as a sacred trust, fragile and precious. Molina’s success was not only permitted by his health but preserved by his diligence in maintaining it.

Therefore, O listener, act with reverence toward your own vessel of life. Rise each day with thanksgiving for the breath that fills you. Tend to your body as a temple, for it carries the fire of your soul. Do not wait until weakness comes to learn its value. Live now with care, so that when your moment of trial or opportunity arrives, you too may say, as Molina did, that your health has permitted you to achieve optimal results in your calling.

And so let these words echo through your days: strength is a blessing, gratitude is its companion, and discipline is its guardian. Honor all three, and you shall walk with endurance, leaving behind not only victories, but the wisdom of a life well-lived.