A buddy and I decide to go sky-diving.
For the record, if I am jumping out of a plane with a parachute, you can know one of two things. One, I have lost a bet; or two, the plane is on fire. But let us imagine that my friend has talked me into sky-diving and he begins to explain to me how the parachute works. He is an expert on aerodynamics so he explains that the parachute is made of so many square yards of silk and it will hold so many cubic feet of air. He tells me that the air will provide resistance slowing my fall, so that I will not be splattered on the concrete but will land safely. My friend may ask me, “Do you believe what I’ve told you about the parachute?” I would say, yes, I believe that. Do I believe this parachute can do hold me up and lower me slowly and safely to the ground? Yes I believe it! Do I completely understand how it works? No. But, do I believe it works? Yes, I believe parachutes work. Alright then, my friend says, “Let’s jump!”
The moment I jump out of the plane, I no longer believe about the parachute, I am trusting in the parachute. That is the difference between belief and trust.