How do we Worship?

I go to a pretty contemporary church- a young church, if you will, in both senses of the word. You know the kind I mean. Their building isn't fully fleshed out yet; it has hardwood benches, you can see the rafters in the cieling, they have one projector onto a pull-down screen, and an awesome african-looking tapestry in the back. They're more invested in their ministry than their building (which I LOVE about them) and they are very mission-based.
I describe my church so that you can understand what I'm about to say. Every Sunday I go to this church, and every Sunday, the worship causes me to think intensely. Mostly, it runs along the line of "do i really mean the words I'm singing? Do I really 'adore' God? Does my love for God really overflow to the point where I can't hold it back?" And mostly, when I examine myself, the answer is no. So then I have to question, do I want to throw myself into the music, sing it, participate in it, and hope that doing so will make it true? Or do I stand quietly, listen with all the concentration I can muster, and keep analysing the music? Tonight, I chose to think.
There always comes that time in the service where the musicians keep playing, and the one who is "leading" for the night begins to talk... inspirationally. Or at least, it's supposed to be inspirational. It's the sort of thing that may or may not sound ridiculous, depending on the level of your emotion, and whether or not God is speaking to you at the moment (which non-believers take to be the same thing, but I can say with complete surety that it's not). At that point in the service, no matter how into the service I am, or how much I was pouring myself into worshipping God, I come to a screeching halt. Although I suppose you can make the argument that the words in the songs we sing are just as arbitrary as the words the worship leader then speaks, to me it always feels forced. As if they are either furthering some agenda or making things up out of their heads, maybe a composite of all the worship songs and services they've ever heard. In short: it feels fake. I know that this kind of ad-libbing sometimes speaks powerfully to people. Occasionally, God speaks to me through it as well. However, I can't help but remain skeptical.
My dilemma, the one that confronts me every service is this: I don't know how much of my resistance to what is being said to me is because what's being said is legitimately not good theology, or not true in my soul, and how much of my cynicism is too-intense doubt caused by sin. So every week i have to search my soul with this question... and every week, I dredge up- well, not much. I end up coming to the conclusion that all I can do is pray that God will help me to discern truth from lies or truth from irrelevance, and that I will learn to love him better.
Today I came to church being convicted of not having prayed really at all in the past few weeks. So I decided tonight, when the pianist started ad-libbing, that I was going to pray. I was going to pray with all my might that God would indeed inspire his ad-libbing, and that nothing that came out of his mouth that night would be "fake." I have no idea how effective that prayer might have been... but then, that's always how it is with prayer: you never know until you KNOW, I guess.
over 'n out.
E.O.