True Value: When a Gym Parking Lot Became Holy Ground

Josh Cho stood in front of the camera on the Gold Coast, visibly nervous, sweating, and honest about it. He didn't want to be up there. Peter speaks more eloquently — Josh said so himself. But God pressed a question into his heart: what are you abiding in? Fear? Your comfort zone? And if your love for God is real, does it outweigh the anxiety? So here he was. Not as an example of how good he is, but as a testament of how good and faithful God has been.

Ask, Seek, Knock — But What If You Can't?

Josh opened with Matthew 7:7-12, part of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Ask and it will be given. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened. It's a passage about a God who wants an active, progressive relationship — not just passive prayers lobbed into the sky, but real seeking, real persistence, real expectation.

Jesus paints God as a father who gives good gifts. If sinful earthly parents know how to give good things to their children, how much more will the Father in heaven give to those who ask?

Beautiful theology. But Josh couldn't receive it.

"I couldn't imagine that I would receive things just because I asked for it. My deep understanding was that I needed to earn those things."

The Middle Child Who Learned to Perform

Josh was born into a Christian family of seven — mum, dad, older brother Joseph, older sister Christine, two younger sisters Esther and Ruth, and Josh in the middle. Their version of church was reading the Bible together at home on Sundays. Non-optional. Led by mum. As young kids, they were reluctant participants.

That set the template. One hour on Sunday meant you were right with God. Josh labelled himself a Christian without knowing what it meant. Faith was transactional from the start.

But the deeper wound came from being the middle child. Josh felt overlooked compared to his siblings. He craved attention and validation — and he noticed when he got it. The love came when school results were good. The attention was linked to achievement.

Slowly, a deep association formed: love must be earned.

If he did well — praise, affirmation, value. If he didn't meet expectations — indifference, criticism, worthlessness. No in-between. All or nothing. That pattern bred a prideful heart that constantly compared himself to others, and a people-pleasing instinct that would do anything to keep the peace — even things he didn't want to do.

"Everything looked fine externally. But internally, there was this gigantic void within me."

When "Father" Means Something Different

Here's where it gets raw. Josh realised that the way he related to God was a direct projection of his relationship with his earthly father. The word "father" didn't bring comfort. It brought fear, punishment, anger, and judgment.

So when Jesus said your Father in heaven will give good gifts to those who ask — Josh couldn't ask. He was too scared to present himself vulnerably before God. Scared of being rejected. Scared of being judged. Scared of being told he was worthless.

Instead of running to God, he ran from him. He latched onto his high school friends for identity and security. If they're smart, I'm smart. If they're good people, that makes me a good person. But it was all band-aids over a wound that wouldn't close.

The Gym Parking Lot

The turning point happened in a car, in a gym parking lot. Josh was wallowing — questioning his identity, his values, drowning in loneliness and worthlessness. The spiral was vicious.

"Does anyone even care about me? Does it even matter if I disappeared? Does it even matter if I'm alive?"

In that helplessness, he did the one thing the passage talks about. He asked God for help.

And God answered. A whisper. A reassurance: you are loved. Seek me. Find me. Josh described it like a big bear hug from God. It broke him. He just cried and cried.

But he had no idea what to do next. He'd never actually attended a church. His only experience was Bible reading at the kitchen table. He didn't know where to start. He was scared and hesitant.

By the grace of God, a friend introduced him to Heartbeat Church.

"Build My Life"

There was no instant transformation. But there was a feeling — he had to be here. Then came a prayer night. It was originally just for shepherds, but they'd opened it to the wider church for the first time. Nobody else came. Josh was intimidated, sitting there alone with the leaders.

Then a song he'd never heard before started playing. "Build My Life."

The lyrics hit different. I will build my life upon your love, for it is a firm foundation. I will put my trust in you alone, and I will not be shaken.

Conviction flooded in. Every foundation Josh had been building on — people-pleasing, self-reliance, performance — crumbled under those words. When life's adversities came knocking at those foundations, they broke every time. He knew it. He'd lived it.

"The Holy Spirit really revealed a lot of things and opened my heart. It softened my heart to really remind me that my value wasn't from my actions, but from what Jesus had done on the cross for me."

The feelings of fear and judgment toward his heavenly Father began to wash away. Love and acceptance took their place. Josh was valued — not because of what he'd done, but because of what Jesus did for him.

That was the moment he truly gave his life to God and started his Christian walk.

Chains Still On, But No Longer Bound

Josh used an image from League of Legends — a character called Sylas who has chains still attached to his arms but is no longer held in place by them. That's how Josh felt coming into this testimony. Still carrying things from the past. Still attached. But God was telling him it was time to let them go.

Preparing this testimony forced Josh to go back to places he'd buried deep. Childhood memories that were too emotional to relive. Feelings of hurt and anger toward the people he cared about most — and toward himself. He'd suppressed it all because he was afraid of being judged for having those feelings.

But God pressed on his heart: this testimony isn't for the congregation. It's for you. A chance to publicly declare it. Release it. No longer be held captive.

A New Value System

Because of that transformation, Josh no longer saw God through the lens of fear and performance. His relationship was rooted in Jesus' sacrifice. He could begin making his requests known before God — from a place of love and acceptance, not terror.

And God began healing his family relationships — especially with his father. Josh could see that everything his dad did came from good intentions. The fear was replaced with understanding.

Josh closed with Galatians 2:20:

"I have been crucified with Christ. I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

What About You?

Josh's story is a testimony, not a three-point sermon. But the question it leaves behind is the same one Matthew 7 asks: do you know what kind of Father you have?

Maybe you've projected your earthly father onto your heavenly one. Maybe you've been earning love your whole life and you're exhausted. Maybe you're sitting in your own version of a gym parking lot right now, spiraling, wondering if anyone cares.

God's answer hasn't changed. Ask. He's listening. Seek. He's not hiding. Knock. The door is already unlocked. Your value was never about your performance. It was settled on the cross before you could do a single thing to earn it.