I didn't start with belief when I first read the gospels, mathew through mark. I started with pity for the man Jesus. Pity because I liked Him, and wished like mad that the world could be like what He said, but thought He was deluded because the world was nothing like what He seemed to say.
Then I saw He wasn't talking about the world. He was talking about what He kept calling a different kingdom. He wasn't saying the world was like what He taught, but that another place was like what He taught.
Then at some point in my reading, I moved from Pity for Him to hope that He would somehow let me know this odd kingdom He taught about.
My hope didn't turn to certainty until He revealed Himself to me. It was not what I expected. It was not seeing Him as I saw everything else, with my physical eyes. It was inside myself that He revealed Himself to me. To this day, it still sounds crazy to me, but it's how it happened.
It didn't change the world around me, or make my life suddenly devoid of struggles, but it started to slowly change me.