I remember the day I began to question in the same way. It had a lot to do with a discovery of a hidden cache. My heart dropped as I considered that perhaps there was no Santa. I wanted to believe--I loved the magic associated with believing--but the seed of doubt had been planted and the weeds of doubt were growing--flourishing in the field of wondrous belief.
Even today--I want to believe in the jolly old elf. My childhood heart reappears every Christmas and I experience the anticipation of the day that is coming. Perhaps this will be the year--Santa will reappear and fill my stocking with an orange, some Christmas candy and a small toy as in those long ago days. I cherish the memories of Christmases filled with the magic the grand old Saint Nicholas gifted me with. The surprise of gifts under the tree for so many Christmas mornings. I really want to believe---and wanting to believe is the first step in believing.
As I thought this over, I thought of the birth of our King. To experience the wonder of knowing He was indeed born in the little town of Bethelem--you must first want to believe. The desire to believe--is the first step in faith. The preamble to God growing our faith and providing the assurance, "It is so." All we have to do is turn to Him and confess, "I want to believe." He will then lead you down the path of wonder of what He has done for us. But first you must--want to believe.
Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.