If it feels impossible to worship God through styles that are uncomfortable to us, it’s because we’re asking the music to do for us what is actually an issue of the heart.
I’d also say it sometimes feels impossible to worship God when I grasp too little of myself, having been busy beating down predictable errors of thought or being otherwise engaged to gaze into the innermost parts.
This is apart from the usual problem of being too full of myself, of course.
Nothing like a spell of self-rejection to remind me of the (highly metaphorical) dagger I’d poised over my heart in deeper moments of despair.
So recently, this has been my prayer: “Please, dear God who listens, awake me to your presence and your perception of me. Amen.”
Somehow, being frank in my funk prepares me to perceive that God is listening and responding to each of us, as always — his beloved sons and daughters. I think that’s why when all else fails, we can continue to say:
Thank you, Father.
Thank you, Jesus.
Thank you, Holy Spirit.