I will thank God for the day and the moment I have.

“I will thank God for the day and the moment I have.” — these words, spoken by Jim Valvano, rise like a flame from the heart of a man standing face to face with mortality. Valvano, the celebrated basketball coach, uttered them in the final chapter of his life, when his body was being consumed by cancer, yet his spirit blazed brighter than ever. He spoke not as one defeated, but as one who had discovered the sacred secret of living: that gratitude, pure and unbroken, is stronger than death. In these words lies an ancient wisdom — that every moment is holy, every day a gift, and that the measure of life is not in its length, but in the depth with which it is lived.

When Valvano said, “I will thank God for the day and the moment I have,” he was not offering a mere comfort for suffering — he was revealing a philosophy of triumph. To thank God not for what may come, but for now, is the highest act of faith. It is to look at the fragile present — the fleeting breath, the imperfect hour — and see it as enough. In this gratitude, fear loses its power, and even pain becomes a teacher. Many wait for joy when the storm passes, but Valvano reminds us: the light we seek is already in the storm, if only we lift our hearts to see it.

His words were born from struggle. In 1993, weakened by illness, Jim Valvano stood before the world at the ESPY Awards and gave a speech that still echoes through generations. His body trembled, yet his voice was resolute: “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.” And then, he spoke of living each day with laughter, thought, and emotion — and of thanking God for the gift of being alive in that very instant. Here was a man who knew his days were numbered, yet he counted them not in sorrow, but in gratitude. This was no resignation to fate — it was victory over it. For what disease can conquer a soul that gives thanks for the breath it still holds?

In this, Valvano joins the lineage of the ancient wise, those who found eternity in the present. The Stoics of old, such as Marcus Aurelius, wrote, “Do not act as if you were going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over you. While you live, while it is in your power — be good.” They, too, knew that life is not promised, and therefore every sunrise is a miracle. To thank God for the moment is to live as they did — awake, humble, and fierce in the face of time. Gratitude, in this sense, is not mere politeness toward the divine; it is the very essence of awareness, the heartbeat of the soul in harmony with existence.

There is also courage in such gratitude. Many give thanks when blessings are abundant, but few can give thanks when life grows dark. Yet it is in the darkness that true gratitude shines. The sick man who blesses his breath, the widow who gives thanks for memory, the weary laborer who finds joy in a single meal — these are the heroes of the spirit. They have learned, as Valvano did, that to live is not to possess much, but to cherish what is. The moment — fragile, fleeting, unpromised — becomes sacred when we recognize it as the vessel of divine grace.

Think, too, of Anne Frank, hidden in the shadows of persecution, who wrote in her diary, “It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them.” In the midst of terror, she gave thanks for the mere sight of the sky, for the hope that still lingered. Like Valvano, she lived not in bitterness, but in gratitude. And though both lives were brief, their legacies endure — proof that thankfulness transforms even the smallest spark of time into eternity.

The lesson, then, is clear and radiant: Do not wait to be grateful. Do not let your gratitude depend upon perfect days or fulfilled dreams. Look upon your life — however humble, however uncertain — and say, “This moment is mine, and I thank God for it.” For every breath, every sunrise, every fleeting smile is a treasure entrusted to you. Let your heart be a temple of gratitude, not only in times of joy, but in the midst of struggle, for it is gratitude that turns suffering into strength and endings into beginnings.

So live as Jim Valvano lived — laughing through pain, fighting through fear, giving thanks even as time slips away. Let his words be carved upon your soul: “I will thank God for the day and the moment I have.” For when you do, you will find that you, too, are immortal — not because you will never die, but because you have truly lived. Gratitude, my child, is the soul’s defiance against oblivion — the eternal flame that even death cannot extinguish.